[Similar to when she’d embraced him in her room – not that long ago, not at all, less than a week, even though it feels like another lifetime – Koby tenses a little, reflexively at the movement towards his face. But Alicent’s bandaged thumb strokes over his cheek, and there’s a sour-sweet ache in his throat, his chest, his stomach, recognizing how devastating the loss of her would be. He doesn’t want to even entertain the idea, refuses to let it snag claws into his mind, his too-open, too-tender heart, but: it’s there. It’s already there.

Tilting his head just slightly into her hand, a lifetime without touch making him hungry, greedy for it, Koby smiles a little at her description.] Hightower. Like a lighthouse. It suits you, Alicent. [Nautical themes, always, for him – but that idea fits, much more than a dragon, all the teeth and fire and destruction. A lighthouse is strong, stoic, solid, it guides and shepherds ships to safety, it pierces the deepest, darkest storms and tethers the despairing crew to hope. It’s the kind of name to be proud of.

If you were my boy twinges in his chest, but Koby doesn’t – dare that presumption. She’d said it to comfort, and she hasn’t revoked it, and that is more than he’s ever had before. Still, thoughtful, eyes closing for a brief moment:] I don’t have one. A family name. The orphanage named us alphabetically, and “K” was next up when I arrived. I guess I got lucky, more or less. There was another girl named “Koala”, there.

[Opening his eyes, even though he has to squint a bit to see her:] I’m not going to give up either. Not until there’s justice for your family and the other guests. For Embry. [Koby hasn’t forgotten. He’s panicked, he’s spiraled and been reeled back and now he has work to do.]