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“Oh wow,” Aemond says with so much sarcasm that Luke’s gut tightens with annoyance. “Just lovely. Nothing says Happy Holidays like spending Christmas in literal fucking squalor.”
Squalor is a bit of a stretch for what the cabin truly is. No, it isn’t the grand accommodations Aemond is likely used to; it’s small and cosy, three rooms altogether that Luke paid extra to have decorated. There is garland and holly hung around the doorways and along the mantle of the fireplace, a small tree with someone’s homemade ornaments weighing the branches down. The place is a little run down and dusty, but it’s clearly well-loved and perfect for the quiet Christmas Luke pictured in his mind.
It was also the only place that allowed animals. Vhagar swats at the door of her carrier, hissing, and Aemond squats to release her into the cabin. The maine coon takes a tentative step onto the hardwood floor, then turns to stare aghast at Aemond. Luke scoffs at both of them and casts a loving eye to Arrax, who is licking his balls and damp from frolicking in the snow on their way in. “I think it’s fine, Aemond.”
Now it’s his partner’s turn to scoff. Aemond gives him one long look before stalking further into the main room with derision he could only have learned at Alicent Hightower’s knee. Luke can just imagine the thoughts going through his mind at the sight of the lounge-kitchen combination.
He isn’t really annoyed with Luke, but rather a handful of other things. For starters, the faff of getting here (the directions on AirBnB were vague at best, and the place wasn’t on Google Maps; they only found it because Aemond pulled over to take a piss in the long, winding driveway and spotted the snow-covered sign). The fact that he needed to take time off work for a vacation not of his choosing. And, of course, the most obvious: the fact that this would be the first Christmas they were spending away from their families.
(Away is a pretty word, Aemond had commented at dinner a few nights before. Banished works, too. Exiled.
Is it a banishment if it’s something we chose? Luke had asked back, hurt for no reason he could put words to.)
He might also be a little annoyed with Luke. We could have been sipping frozen margaritas on a beach in Dorne, Aemond had snapped in the car, sliding through the snow for the fourth time in an hour. I could be getting a tan.
You don’t tan, Luke had snapped back, oddly guilty.
In truth, they could have been in Dorne right now, but they’d had the worst year of their life and Luke wanted to do something nice for Aemond. Earlier in the year when he was drunk on bottomless mimosas, he’d mentioned skiing with his mother’s side of the family as a child, how it was exhilarating flying down the mountains, the cold like a blade. It was the last time I enjoyed spending a holiday with my family.
They wouldn’t be doing much skiing around here, but there were hikes they could do with Arrax, and a small town nearby that boasted one of the best Christmas markets around. Luke had packed enough food to last through the end of the world, all of Aemond’s favourites that he rarely indulged in.
“It’s bloody freezing in here,” Aemond complains, placing his bag on the counter. “I reckon we’ll have to heat the place by the fireplace?”
“We do,” Luke says defensively. “Quit whining, would you?”
Aemond glances over sharply, like he plans to snap something terrible back at Luke, but there must be something unpleasant on Luke’s face because he bites down on whatever it is. “Where is the wood?”
Luke shrugs. Aemond sighs. They both begin to look around.
The fire crackles merrily in the hearth, completing the atmosphere Luke was trying to create, but Aemond is chilly and miserable beside him. Several DVDs are scattered across the coffee table, all Christmas movies, but they have yet to decide on one. The second Aemond learned there was no wifi in their remote cottage, he’d clammed up and refused to speak to Luke for around thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Luke broke the entertainment out and showed it to Aemond that he finally said, “You only brought Christmas films?”
“Yes, because it’s the holiday season.”
“And you didn’t stop to think all of this holiday season would be a little cloying?”
Luke frowns, petting through Arrax’s shaggy fur. He and Vhagar are curled up between them on the couch, the perfect buffer. “Not really, no.”
Sighing, Aemond props his socked feet up on the coffee table, nudging Four Christmases with the heel of his foot. “Let’s do this one.”
It’s Luke’s favourite, and Aemond knows that because he’s been forced to watch it no less than a half-dozen Christmases in a row. Only this is the first year where they are together for real, no hiding or sneaking around. This is a copy of the movie that they both own in their shared apartment in a city far from their rival families.
Luke nods, getting up from the couch. “Okay, I’ll get everything sorted. Do you want to get dressed in something more comfortable while I do it?”
Aemond watches him steadily, the look on his face less annoyed now and more concerned. “Do you want help?”
“No,” Luke says, waving him off. His throat is tight, and he reckons Aemond can hear it, despite the smile Luke pastes on. “I’ll be quick.”
Their cheese board sits almost untouched in front of them as the second movie’s credits roll, and Luke wants to cry.
He hopes whatever mistiness Aemond sees in his eyes can be chalked up to the emotional climax of The Grinch , and not the disaster of their first night on holiday together. Aemond was obviously right about the Christmas films; every single one deals with family of some sort: a coming together, a reminder of how important they all are to one another.
Every year on Christmas Eve, Luke gathers with his siblings at his mother’s home and they have dinner and games. It’s a night of joy and merriment, a time where they can forget about the war going on and remember that they love each other. That things can be good.
Last year, Luke left early to go and help Aemond, who was so bruised and battered that Luke couldn’t even pretend he hadn’t seen Jace’s blackened knuckles.
This year, he and Aemond sit on opposite sides of the couch, miserable and trying not to be.
“I’m going to head to bed.”
Luke nods quickly, leaning forward to grab the remains of their dinner. Some of this can be wrapped up, by the camembert will need to go in the bin, and the—
“Are you coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there shortly,” Luke snaps, then bites hard on his lip in the silence that follows. It feels accusatory, and Luke supposes it’s deserved. Maybe he can contact the owner of the AirBnB tomorrow and see if they can cut the trip short. He won’t be able to get the money back probably, but they won’t suffer for it.
The bedroom is small and chilly, the heat of the fireplace not reaching that far back into the house. The duvet they have is huge and there are three fluffy blankets piled at the end of the bed, currently shared by Arrax and Vhagar, so it isn’t as awful as it could be.
Aemond was asleep when Luke finally made it into the room, reeking of weed. Or not asleep, but doing a passing job of faking it. Luke considered briefly jumping in the shower, but the cold had cut through him outside and the thought of being naked was too horrible to consider for long. So he pulled on his sleep clothes and slid into the bed beside Aemond, resigning himself to a long night of sleeplessness.
He doesn’t know how long it takes before he realises that Aemond really isn’t sleeping, too stiff beside him. This, at least, is familiar to them; neither sleeps well anymore, if they ever had before.
“I’m sorry,” Luke whispers into the darkness between their bodies. For all that they are pressed together to stay warm, there is still space between them, something intentional and hurtful. He wonders if Aemond did it on purpose, or if it was instinctive, protecting himself against feelings he would rather not look at too closely. “I ruined Christmas.”
For several long minutes, there is no response. It hurts to think that Aemond might ignore his apology, that he might let this drag into tomorrow. And then Aemond rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. His bad eye is to Luke, brow furrowed in something like confusion. “I just don’t understand why we’re here,” he says slowly.
“So we weren’t stuck in Harrenhal,” Luke murmurs, pressing his face into his pillow.
“Then why not Dorne, or somewhere else? Why the middle of fucking nowhere?”
“I thought it would be nice, just us.”
“It would be,” Aemond says. “If it wasn’t just us and every ghost we’ve collected over the last twenty-eight years. All I’ve thought about since getting here was that stupid vacation when I was younger. With my mom’s side.”
Luke closes his eyes, trying to breathe steadily against the soft pillow. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop that,” Aemond says, frustrated. “You—I know you meant for this to be a nice thing.”
“Then why are you ruining it?” Luke asks wetly. Aemond glances over, turning until he’s able to see Luke fully. His brows are furrowed, mouth pulled down in a frown. Carefully, he reaches for Luke’s cheek, moulding his palm to the curve of it, his thumb swiping against the soft skin beneath his eye.
“I just wanted to be with you,” Aemond responds, voice thin. “It didn’t matter where we were, but you’ve put so much into this, into making it perfect, and it’s not.”
“I know.”
“Yeah, but you don’t really. It’s not imperfect because of you , Luke; it’s imperfect because our families have ruined it for us. We should have gone somewhere else, somewhere that didn’t remind us so much of them. Of this time. I don’t want to go to church or go on a hike or do any of that shit that reminds me of what I had before. I want to make new memories with you. I want the holidays to mean something new. Isn’t that the whole fucking point of this?”
This: Aemond and Luke on their own in the world, their backs turned to their families, their hands stained filthy from war but getting no dirtier.
This: the small piece of world Aemond and Luke have carved out together.
“I’m sorry,” Luke says again.
“Me too,” Aemond answers, pulling him closer. Their foreheads knock together, the tips of their cold noses rubbing against each other. Aemond kisses him once, twice; soft things that Luke holds close to his heart, the sort of kiss he’ll remember a year, ten years from now.
He snuggles closer. Aemond was probably glad they went to sleep angry with one another because it meant he didn’t have to tolerate Luke curled into him like a pretzel. Now, as his punishment for being a bastard, he’ll need to suffer it the whole night.
Aemond makes room for him with an ungrateful sigh, his arm curling easily around Luke’s shoulders to keep him close. Tomorrow they will sort out what they should do, but for now, they can sleep.
“You know what this means, right?” Aemond asks quietly when Luke is on the verge of sleep, his mind in a strange in-between state where things don’t quite feel real. He hums in lieu of speaking real words, pressing his face into Aemond’s shoulder. “I get to pick the vacation destination from here on out.”
“No,” Luke says, or thinks he says. Regardless, they can fight about it in the morning.