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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
LAURALAE
text ❖ audio ❖ video
WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
LAURALAE
text ❖ audio ❖ video
[ In the middle of the chaos, a little bottle (glass, with a delicate silver stopper, no bigger than her palm) appears outside of Lauralae's door. It's filled, as will be evident as soon as she tries opening it, with perfume. A black velvet ribbon has been tied around its neck, and upon one of its loose ends, embroidered in silver thread: NIGHT, DARK, WILD.
I like things that remind me of the forest, she'd said. Leaves, dirt, plants, bark. So the perfume the bottle carries smells— black, green, moss. Like the dampness of being alive, like the cycle of birth and decay. Certainly not an easy fragrance — not the type, anyway, to achieve any real commercial success — but one he's mixed to attempt to capture the sentiments she'd expressed. ]
I like things that remind me of the forest, she'd said. Leaves, dirt, plants, bark. So the perfume the bottle carries smells— black, green, moss. Like the dampness of being alive, like the cycle of birth and decay. Certainly not an easy fragrance — not the type, anyway, to achieve any real commercial success — but one he's mixed to attempt to capture the sentiments she'd expressed. ]
i will answer any and all questions you have, with truth only.
in return, you will aid me in gifting apologies to those harmed.
[ She deliberately doesn’t quantity either; he could ask her any question of herself, of the game, of her memories, and her hearts bargain would beg her honesty. She gives no time limit for gifts for the people hurt either. Just in case. ]
in return, you will aid me in gifting apologies to those harmed.
[ She deliberately doesn’t quantity either; he could ask her any question of herself, of the game, of her memories, and her hearts bargain would beg her honesty. She gives no time limit for gifts for the people hurt either. Just in case. ]
1. no [ Not physically, at least. ]
2. no
3. a little. i have remembered more when i have been with others, but it is not yet in depth. it is enough to know that it was my hands that caused this.
4. by scent, perhaps, but not by name.
5. not yet. i expect it.
2. no
3. a little. i have remembered more when i have been with others, but it is not yet in depth. it is enough to know that it was my hands that caused this.
4. by scent, perhaps, but not by name.
5. not yet. i expect it.
what do you want or need, little bird? i’m coming down with a care package
ooookay let’s try again
if i bring some blankets from my room, would you use em? or eat anything i bring?
you do deserve comforts, lae
if i bring some blankets from my room, would you use em? or eat anything i bring?
you do deserve comforts, lae
one blanket coming up ( he’ll throw a shirt in there too )
i’ll bring something for the smell too… so you don’t have to deal with— yeah. ( with danny, dead in the other cell. he can’t say it. )
i’ll bring something for the smell too… so you don’t have to deal with— yeah. ( with danny, dead in the other cell. he can’t say it. )
yeah… i was thinking they’d move him but i think jem might bite anyone who tries
the tv? there’s a little remote where you can turn it down without approaching it ( but her care package will have earplugs and something for the headaches too — with instruction to ask Lucifer how much to take. ) hopefully it won’t be long. this game can’t go on forever
( none of them can take it )
( none of them can take it )
i cannot touch it.
[ Well, she might be able to, but she is afraid. There are things that make her curse happen, and things that don’t, and she has yet to parse which is which; she has chosen isolation before instead. With no medication and no gloves she simply sits, fearful.
(Soon, Armand and Astarion will bring her sets, to ease her pain, but for now she measures her suffering with ease. It is earned.) ]
[ Well, she might be able to, but she is afraid. There are things that make her curse happen, and things that don’t, and she has yet to parse which is which; she has chosen isolation before instead. With no medication and no gloves she simply sits, fearful.
(Soon, Armand and Astarion will bring her sets, to ease her pain, but for now she measures her suffering with ease. It is earned.) ]
[ A regular visitor to the cells, Armand isn't unfamiliar with the sight of Lauralae turned in on herself, trying to hide from the world or her own memories. He can't blame her for it, as much as he doesn't like to see her that way.
One night, in the deepest and coldest hours before dawn, after he's spoken to Louis, he makes his way over to stand close by the place where she's huddled near Lucifer. Her protector earns a glance only; after a moment, he crouches down, studying Lauralae in the darkness. His vampire senses let him know she's not sleeping.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded object, which he holds out to her through the bars -- a pair of long opera gloves like the ones she prefers, soft and old silk, but clean. He knows well how small luxuries can seem far more important when one is confined and heartbroken. ]
One night, in the deepest and coldest hours before dawn, after he's spoken to Louis, he makes his way over to stand close by the place where she's huddled near Lucifer. Her protector earns a glance only; after a moment, he crouches down, studying Lauralae in the darkness. His vampire senses let him know she's not sleeping.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded object, which he holds out to her through the bars -- a pair of long opera gloves like the ones she prefers, soft and old silk, but clean. He knows well how small luxuries can seem far more important when one is confined and heartbroken. ]
[ It has been difficult.
Being taken from her self-given penance to the prison had done little to ensure comfort for Lauralae, and she had hoped that the strange medicines this place offers her would last long enough to give her some peace. It had not been so, of course, and perhaps it had been foolish of her to think it might; the people here have been kind to her, but the house itself? There is crueller magic there.
She does not dare permit herself to be near anyone, even Luci, who might welcome the burn of pain her touch offers. With no medication and no covering for her lithe little fingers, the pain she offers is reflected in kind, pinpricks of pain directly to her own mind. Even the barest brush of her fingers over skin is enough to have her close to weeping, so unused to the agony of it after so many years of hurt isolation.
It’s that thought that clings to her as she hears the shift of moment, not expecting anyone to come for her. For all that she has the sweetest of bonds here, Lauralae does not trust in it nor herself enough to dare call it friendship. The others may have guest and visitor both; having her own shocks her to her sore and tender heart.
When she realises who has come to her, what her gift is, her eyes widen into bright sparks of fizzling joy, warring with her grief. She’s careful as she reaches for them, refusing to even come close to the possibility of her touch grazing Armand’s skin and causing him pain. Her own means nothing in the wake of such simple and sweet kindness.
Voice hoarse, from crying and disuse together, she speaks, tugging the gloves on and sinking into relief. ]
Thank you. [ It’s the most comfortable she has looked since she was thrown in here, despite the warmth of Alia and Lucifer to soothe her. ] I will repay your kindness.
Being taken from her self-given penance to the prison had done little to ensure comfort for Lauralae, and she had hoped that the strange medicines this place offers her would last long enough to give her some peace. It had not been so, of course, and perhaps it had been foolish of her to think it might; the people here have been kind to her, but the house itself? There is crueller magic there.
She does not dare permit herself to be near anyone, even Luci, who might welcome the burn of pain her touch offers. With no medication and no covering for her lithe little fingers, the pain she offers is reflected in kind, pinpricks of pain directly to her own mind. Even the barest brush of her fingers over skin is enough to have her close to weeping, so unused to the agony of it after so many years of hurt isolation.
It’s that thought that clings to her as she hears the shift of moment, not expecting anyone to come for her. For all that she has the sweetest of bonds here, Lauralae does not trust in it nor herself enough to dare call it friendship. The others may have guest and visitor both; having her own shocks her to her sore and tender heart.
When she realises who has come to her, what her gift is, her eyes widen into bright sparks of fizzling joy, warring with her grief. She’s careful as she reaches for them, refusing to even come close to the possibility of her touch grazing Armand’s skin and causing him pain. Her own means nothing in the wake of such simple and sweet kindness.
Voice hoarse, from crying and disuse together, she speaks, tugging the gloves on and sinking into relief. ]
Thank you. [ It’s the most comfortable she has looked since she was thrown in here, despite the warmth of Alia and Lucifer to soothe her. ] I will repay your kindness.
You owe nothing.
[ Armand keeps his voice soft, though there's little need -- most of the others in the cell with Lauralae neither desire nor need sleep. But he wants to keep this small moment as private as he can, even if he's sure Lucifer and Louis at least will be listening in. The attempt is made, at least.
He watches her closely, hearing the difference in her heart rate, the release of tension of her body as she relaxes, the pain lessening. He's glad to be able to offer that much comfort, as paltry as it feels in comparison to the cruelty of the game.
His gaze cuts sideways as he glances over at Louis, then back to Lauralae, pupils reflecting some of the dim light from the television screen and pinball machines. ]
Lauralae. I would offer you a little of my blood. It may keep the worst at bay.
[ Armand keeps his voice soft, though there's little need -- most of the others in the cell with Lauralae neither desire nor need sleep. But he wants to keep this small moment as private as he can, even if he's sure Lucifer and Louis at least will be listening in. The attempt is made, at least.
He watches her closely, hearing the difference in her heart rate, the release of tension of her body as she relaxes, the pain lessening. He's glad to be able to offer that much comfort, as paltry as it feels in comparison to the cruelty of the game.
His gaze cuts sideways as he glances over at Louis, then back to Lauralae, pupils reflecting some of the dim light from the television screen and pinball machines. ]
Lauralae. I would offer you a little of my blood. It may keep the worst at bay.
[ To owe nothing discomforts her, leaves her feeling like her teeth are chomping on broken glass, unsure and alien to her. When she had offered him her blood, she had been given tenderness and pleasure in return. An equal and fair trade in the mind of a creature borne of pact and bargain rather than soft acts of kindness.
Her eyes try to follow his, dark darting dots flickering over the room, to the others. She knows he knows Luci, had spoken of him when they sat together in pleasure, and she recognises Louis from their own joint ventures. Connections begin to forge in her mind, a little wolf pack that curls in her gut with warmth.
Lauralae had only ever felt like she had belonged once before, and it had been stolen. To have it again is relief as much as it is torment.
Slowly, her breathing coming a little quicker, she swallows. ]
Why - why would I have need of it?
[ As if it is not tormenting her. ]
Her eyes try to follow his, dark darting dots flickering over the room, to the others. She knows he knows Luci, had spoken of him when they sat together in pleasure, and she recognises Louis from their own joint ventures. Connections begin to forge in her mind, a little wolf pack that curls in her gut with warmth.
Lauralae had only ever felt like she had belonged once before, and it had been stolen. To have it again is relief as much as it is torment.
Slowly, her breathing coming a little quicker, she swallows. ]
Why - why would I have need of it?
[ As if it is not tormenting her. ]
I can sense your pain. The magic in your mind.
[ Through the paper-thin connection, like a gossamer ribbon, since he tasted her blood. But he would have been able to feel it without that link, well aware of what a body does when it's hurting, what it tastes and sounds like. ]
If you taste my blood, it may give you a little strength, to help you withstand the hurt. It has healing properties. But it may also give you disturbing dreams. A longing for more. And we would be connected, you and I.
[ Through the paper-thin connection, like a gossamer ribbon, since he tasted her blood. But he would have been able to feel it without that link, well aware of what a body does when it's hurting, what it tastes and sounds like. ]
If you taste my blood, it may give you a little strength, to help you withstand the hurt. It has healing properties. But it may also give you disturbing dreams. A longing for more. And we would be connected, you and I.
I have had strange dreams before now. I required potion and herbs to sleep well.
[ Nightmares, even before her time as a wolf in this game, some monster to be pitied and hated at once. Lauralae takes no issue with offering blood, would not shame a vampire for seeking it for himself, but she has spent so long wishing herself less monstrous.
She does not know how to muster the strength to consider that she may be one, beyond this dark trick.
Slowly, she nods her head, eyes damp, bleak. ]
I would try it. Yours for mine, when you feel the ache of hunger.
[ Nightmares, even before her time as a wolf in this game, some monster to be pitied and hated at once. Lauralae takes no issue with offering blood, would not shame a vampire for seeking it for himself, but she has spent so long wishing herself less monstrous.
She does not know how to muster the strength to consider that she may be one, beyond this dark trick.
Slowly, she nods her head, eyes damp, bleak. ]
I would try it. Yours for mine, when you feel the ache of hunger.
[ In her sorrow, she seems very young, very small. Armand's jaw tightens briefly with the desire to pull the bars of her cage down out of the stone and take her and Louis away with him, the leader and protector of their strange and fractured coven. Instead, he lifts his hand to his mouth and bites his thumb until the flesh tears and blood starts to run from it.
He extends his hand through the bars to Lauralae, dripping a little onto the floor of the cell. ]
Here, my child. Take my strength for your own, so that we might both survive this.
He extends his hand through the bars to Lauralae, dripping a little onto the floor of the cell. ]
Here, my child. Take my strength for your own, so that we might both survive this.
[ My child, he says, and it ought to sting, but somehow it does not.
Instead, Lauralae leans forward and takes what is offered to her, heedless of any eyes that might dare to twist to look upon them. She has no room in her spirit for those that might offer her harsh words and cruelties, and when she is being given a gift... It is hard not to take it, to relish it for what it is, especially from someone who claims such fondness from her.
Her mouth wraps around him, tongue curling over the gentle ooze of his blood, and the sound she makes is more inhuman than anything she has given before. It is a growl, dangerous, and she presses closer, chasing the taste of it, the warmth of it, eyes close and basking in how delicious it is to her. ]
Instead, Lauralae leans forward and takes what is offered to her, heedless of any eyes that might dare to twist to look upon them. She has no room in her spirit for those that might offer her harsh words and cruelties, and when she is being given a gift... It is hard not to take it, to relish it for what it is, especially from someone who claims such fondness from her.
Her mouth wraps around him, tongue curling over the gentle ooze of his blood, and the sound she makes is more inhuman than anything she has given before. It is a growl, dangerous, and she presses closer, chasing the taste of it, the warmth of it, eyes close and basking in how delicious it is to her. ]
That's it.
[ Armand sighs encouragement as Lauralae fastens to his hand like a fledgling getting her first meal, licking and sucking, a cold pain starting down his wrist and the inside of his arm as his blood is drawn away. He notes the ecstasy in her expression, which is good -- he'd been a little concerned that his dark gift might not be compatible with hers. He watches with a faint pleasure the way she shivers and swallows.
But all good things have to come to an end. Gently, he pulls his hand away. ]
Not too much. A small amount should be enough. Too much may bring on madness. [ Certainly it does in normal mortals. Hallucinations and addiction, even in the tiniest drop. He's hoping Lauralae will be able to cope with it. ]
It should heal you, if you are hurt inside. At the very least, I hope it will bolster your own gifts and give you a little power back.
[ Armand sighs encouragement as Lauralae fastens to his hand like a fledgling getting her first meal, licking and sucking, a cold pain starting down his wrist and the inside of his arm as his blood is drawn away. He notes the ecstasy in her expression, which is good -- he'd been a little concerned that his dark gift might not be compatible with hers. He watches with a faint pleasure the way she shivers and swallows.
But all good things have to come to an end. Gently, he pulls his hand away. ]
Not too much. A small amount should be enough. Too much may bring on madness. [ Certainly it does in normal mortals. Hallucinations and addiction, even in the tiniest drop. He's hoping Lauralae will be able to cope with it. ]
It should heal you, if you are hurt inside. At the very least, I hope it will bolster your own gifts and give you a little power back.
[ Lauralae does not think much more madness could fit inside her small head, but she listens all the same.
Armand is a man she trusts, for what little trust means to her, and the gift he offers her confuses, frustrates, agonises her, but also fills her with a deep longing that she had not been able to put to words before now. The need for flesh, for blood, to be consumed and consume; it had been so foreign to her, suddenly brought to light in a damning display, even as she leans back to gaze at him, seeing no disgust on his features.
It would be strange indeed, for a vampire to be disgusted at a girl longing for blood.
Her hands settle, resting over her stomach, and she nods her head, eyes remaining glued to his face, eerily unblinking. ]
You have my thanks, Armand.
[ Her voice is soft, hoarse, despite all he had given her. ]
I feel... Better. [ For what little better means. ]
Armand is a man she trusts, for what little trust means to her, and the gift he offers her confuses, frustrates, agonises her, but also fills her with a deep longing that she had not been able to put to words before now. The need for flesh, for blood, to be consumed and consume; it had been so foreign to her, suddenly brought to light in a damning display, even as she leans back to gaze at him, seeing no disgust on his features.
It would be strange indeed, for a vampire to be disgusted at a girl longing for blood.
Her hands settle, resting over her stomach, and she nods her head, eyes remaining glued to his face, eerily unblinking. ]
You have my thanks, Armand.
[ Her voice is soft, hoarse, despite all he had given her. ]
I feel... Better. [ For what little better means. ]
for most of it, yeah
do u think i'm the monster?
do u think i'm the monster?
you aren’t, lae
you were forced
the game made you do it
you were forced
the game made you do it
so did i
so maybe it wasn’t us
or you can’t call yourself a monster without calling me one too
so maybe it wasn’t us
or you can’t call yourself a monster without calling me one too
Edited 2024-10-31 18:35 (UTC)
no
i don’t know
i miss the thrill
and that terrifies me
do you—?
i don’t know
i miss the thrill
and that terrifies me
do you—?
christ
lae
you’re a victim too
what’s happening is because of this place
and i just admitted i miss the thrill of slitting someone’s throat. you’re treating us by different standards
lae
you’re a victim too
what’s happening is because of this place
and i just admitted i miss the thrill of slitting someone’s throat. you’re treating us by different standards
do u hate the vampires here for it?
for wanting to drink blood?
for wanting to drink blood?
[ At some point in the afternoon, just as Matt's last breath leaves his body, a small golden light appears in his room. It's about the size of a marble, and instantly, it flutters through the air as if on an errand it knows well. Walls and locked doors are no impediment to it, as it isn't strictly solid, and it leaves no trace behind it.
Eventually, the little bauble finds Lauralae. It winds and dances around her, gentle as a blown kiss but insistent all the same. If she follows it through the halls, the light will direct her to a folded slip of paper with her name on it.
Inside, there's a lock of wavy dark hair. And a message, written in the same hand as the last letter he sent her. ]
As long as you're alive, I'll be with you.
Eventually, the little bauble finds Lauralae. It winds and dances around her, gentle as a blown kiss but insistent all the same. If she follows it through the halls, the light will direct her to a folded slip of paper with her name on it.
Inside, there's a lock of wavy dark hair. And a message, written in the same hand as the last letter he sent her. ]
As long as you're alive, I'll be with you.
Not even in the privacy of your own mind? Lauralae. You deserve to be happy, too.
[ if he should be allowed, a dragon herself is more than deserving. ]
For what it's worth, I do not think less of you for your actions. The game made fools of us all. If there is shame to be felt, it is not on our part.
[ if he should be allowed, a dragon herself is more than deserving. ]
For what it's worth, I do not think less of you for your actions. The game made fools of us all. If there is shame to be felt, it is not on our part.
As do I. Every day I long to carry steel and walk into the battlefield. Every day I long to return to war, to kill mine enemies and rid the kingdom of their stain. To burn the lands and purify them of her.
Why would you deny yourself that want? Because others might fear you?
They are ants under your feet, Lauralae.
Why would you deny yourself that want? Because others might fear you?
They are ants under your feet, Lauralae.
You would remove their bodies, how?
[ he has wondered and often what kinds of darkness flows through lauralae's veins that she hides from the rest of the guests. not just the shapechanging, or the burning touch, or her skill in taking life — though what aemond does know he has a deep fondness for.
tell me what else is on your mind, little dragon. my dragoness. ]
How can you control your urges if you refuse to accept them? They will always haunt you otherwise.
Tell your wants to me. Let me help.
[ he has wondered and often what kinds of darkness flows through lauralae's veins that she hides from the rest of the guests. not just the shapechanging, or the burning touch, or her skill in taking life — though what aemond does know he has a deep fondness for.
tell me what else is on your mind, little dragon. my dragoness. ]
How can you control your urges if you refuse to accept them? They will always haunt you otherwise.
Tell your wants to me. Let me help.
magic is one means.
[ But that isn't what he is angling at. That isn't what she means either, but there is something enticing about it - something about wanting to trust him, to lean into him. She had spoken to Alia about how to earn this man's favour, a sweetness in her unfolding in his direction, and - and.
She wonders. She wonders. ]
i ate grace. part of her. i tried to eat matthew. i ate francesca's heart. i would do it again.
[ But that isn't what he is angling at. That isn't what she means either, but there is something enticing about it - something about wanting to trust him, to lean into him. She had spoken to Alia about how to earn this man's favour, a sweetness in her unfolding in his direction, and - and.
She wonders. She wonders. ]
i ate grace. part of her. i tried to eat matthew. i ate francesca's heart. i would do it again.
Who says so? Who decides what is right and what is not? You are a dragon. Why let the sheep tell you what to do?
[ wolf or dragon or some other beast — humans would sooner cage them, or tame them, or kill them worse for not caving to their mundane demands. why should the weak dictate for the powerful? ]
You should not fear yourself. That is ruining who you are, and you are already more beautiful than anyone can comprehend.
[ wolf or dragon or some other beast — humans would sooner cage them, or tame them, or kill them worse for not caving to their mundane demands. why should the weak dictate for the powerful? ]
You should not fear yourself. That is ruining who you are, and you are already more beautiful than anyone can comprehend.
I do not think it. I know it. And should the laws confuse or torment you — rise above them. Take into your hands your own rule and never let anyone else question you again.
You are a dragon, Lauralae. Zaldrizives. You and I have a greater call than what pettish smallfolk have claim to.
You are a dragon, Lauralae. Zaldrizives. You and I have a greater call than what pettish smallfolk have claim to.
[ She has come to understand the alternative meaning to her words, and she thinks - would she? How would she bend for this man?
In any way that he might ask it of her, she thinks. She would bend her knee, and she would please him, as he has pleased her by simply speaking to her so kindly. ]
i would. gladly. you are a true dragon, and it would be a gift to stand beside you, in any shape.
In any way that he might ask it of her, she thinks. She would bend her knee, and she would please him, as he has pleased her by simply speaking to her so kindly. ]
i would. gladly. you are a true dragon, and it would be a gift to stand beside you, in any shape.
When we next meet, my little dragon, would you allow to be daring?
[ he wants — to touch her. allow her pain to run through him again, and perhaps he could give her something of himself in turn.
she gives him a gift so priceless it takes his breath away. ]
[ he wants — to touch her. allow her pain to run through him again, and perhaps he could give her something of himself in turn.
she gives him a gift so priceless it takes his breath away. ]
[ slipped under the door is a plain envelope with a simple invitation card, with a likewise direct message. on the back, written in legible print that is not aemond's handwriting, is a message: gifts not required! your presence is gift enough.
ooc | this is just for ic reference purposes! regarding the age: the hotd age timeline is a pain in the ass so he's just celebrating it twice. feel free to handwave or thread out as desired! 🔥 ]
ooc | this is just for ic reference purposes! regarding the age: the hotd age timeline is a pain in the ass so he's just celebrating it twice. feel free to handwave or thread out as desired! 🔥 ]
what's your favorite sweet? it's important. i need to know before i can even ask my second question.
favorite fruit?
that's not the second question actually
that's not the second question actually
i'll have to add figuring that out to my list
but my big question, m'lady
are you free for me to claim a little bit of your time?
this next saturday?
for my little lonesome self?
but my big question, m'lady
are you free for me to claim a little bit of your time?
this next saturday?
for my little lonesome self?
then it's a date
i'll pick you up from your rooms at half past three
dress for the cold
i'll pick you up from your rooms at half past three
dress for the cold
I'm delighted to hear it.
The host insists on something called 'pink tie' for the dress. I should try to understand what that means, so that we might dress appropriately.
Would you mind if I brought you a favour?
[ is this what courting proper is like? he is not opposed to the feeling. ]
The host insists on something called 'pink tie' for the dress. I should try to understand what that means, so that we might dress appropriately.
Would you mind if I brought you a favour?
[ is this what courting proper is like? he is not opposed to the feeling. ]
[ he'll need to ask immediately, about this manner of dress. a man's clothing is easier by some measure to put together compared to that of a lady's; he would not deprive lauralae the time to feel satisfied with her own dress. ]
Do not laugh, but what are your favoured colours again?
Do not laugh, but what are your favoured colours again?
it seems foolish to call it a lack when we have never had reason to ask it before. i have been told asking questions is a good way to get to know someone, so it does you well.
i would wish to wear your colours, aemond, if we are to go together as a pair.
i would wish to wear your colours, aemond, if we are to go together as a pair.
I'm of the same mind. Truly a strange thing to advise another, specially when we are all of us strangers here.
[ he thinks, perhaps, of making themselves each a braid of black and green ribbon to pin to their sleeve or lapel. perhaps a bit of gold, too, in honour of aegon as aemond's king, and blue for lae's remaining preference.
it would be a clear association, if he can figure out how to make a presentable pair. ]
Are there questions you would like to be asked?
[ he thinks, perhaps, of making themselves each a braid of black and green ribbon to pin to their sleeve or lapel. perhaps a bit of gold, too, in honour of aegon as aemond's king, and blue for lae's remaining preference.
it would be a clear association, if he can figure out how to make a presentable pair. ]
Are there questions you would like to be asked?
i imagine they think we would learn more of each other in their strange games. but i would prefer to converse a little, to know a breath of the heart of someone.
[ not that she’s against the intimacies of this place either. it just seems easier when you know your partner a little. ]
i could not say what i would wish to be asked. i would not know it until it has happened, and i have been apart from people for some time. i am pleased to have been asked the question of accompanying you, however.
[ not that she’s against the intimacies of this place either. it just seems easier when you know your partner a little. ]
i could not say what i would wish to be asked. i would not know it until it has happened, and i have been apart from people for some time. i am pleased to have been asked the question of accompanying you, however.
Difficult it would be for us to find common ground if we are constantly under attack by what they consider as games. We are the entertainment in this case, not the audience — surely that must count for something.
[ why shouldn't they press for some familiarity? some softer comfort? death is not an easy game to play, or a sweeter taste to swallow. ]
May I try, then? To happen upon what you might like?
[ why shouldn't they press for some familiarity? some softer comfort? death is not an easy game to play, or a sweeter taste to swallow. ]
May I try, then? To happen upon what you might like?
i was speaking to another before. he thinks the games are a distraction, so we cannot unite against those who have trapped us here. it seems a sensible thought to me.
[ everything here is new and strange to her, so it’s hard to judge, but she knows how much isn’t right. she can wrap her mind around that. ]
you may. i believe i would enjoy your attempts, very much.
[ everything here is new and strange to her, so it’s hard to judge, but she knows how much isn’t right. she can wrap her mind around that. ]
you may. i believe i would enjoy your attempts, very much.
It is a sensible conclusion to come upon, agreed. A distracted smallfolk cannot unite against their lord or king, I do not imagine this tactic being any different here. 'Tis the purpose for the distraction that concerns me.
[ all of this strangeness must lend to it, in hindsight. not that this place isn't familiar to others; aemond and lauralae seem more the outliers, having come from places too different. it is the other queer aspects, like the changing halls, the hidden rooms — all seem intent on addling one's senses and bearings of the place. ]
Do your gloves warm you?
[ all of this strangeness must lend to it, in hindsight. not that this place isn't familiar to others; aemond and lauralae seem more the outliers, having come from places too different. it is the other queer aspects, like the changing halls, the hidden rooms — all seem intent on addling one's senses and bearings of the place. ]
Do your gloves warm you?
it is so, especially when the leaders of this house seem equally victim to the games of magic.
[ it had seemed that werewolf had been intended to be light fun; something had twisted it into a more real game. ]
they warm me, but also ensure that my hands do not harm another.
[ it had seemed that werewolf had been intended to be light fun; something had twisted it into a more real game. ]
they warm me, but also ensure that my hands do not harm another.
i wonder. magic comes at cost, and it may be that they have paid an unexpected price.
if you would like. as long as they will cover up to my elbow, i would be pleased. i have a preference for longer dresses, too, though a simple design. i see no need for complication.
if you would like. as long as they will cover up to my elbow, i would be pleased. i have a preference for longer dresses, too, though a simple design. i see no need for complication.
[ it is the only logical conclusion, in the absence of all other information that they might know. troubling. ]
Velvet, then? Or a warm cotton, with a leather outer lining? Perhaps a light linen and silk? Simple need not be plain, I'm sure we can find something to your preference.
Velvet, then? Or a warm cotton, with a leather outer lining? Perhaps a light linen and silk? Simple need not be plain, I'm sure we can find something to your preference.
Leathers are riding. Perhaps another time, for the leather and the leashes.
[ velvet or silk? if he could ask his mother for help, he would, but they are still at odds. were helaena here she could help him instead, may even fashion the articles herself for him.
matching with her, though — the thought warms him, but not with the sharp heat of lust. what a strange thing, this feeling. ]
Will you be braiding your hair? If so, I could match the wend too, if not the style fully.
[ velvet or silk? if he could ask his mother for help, he would, but they are still at odds. were helaena here she could help him instead, may even fashion the articles herself for him.
matching with her, though — the thought warms him, but not with the sharp heat of lust. what a strange thing, this feeling. ]
Will you be braiding your hair? If so, I could match the wend too, if not the style fully.
there are horses here. we might ride together, though i can magic mine own.
[ More and more matching. Each offering has her feeling a strange giddiness, and she wonders if she ought to be fearful of it. The last time she had felt this way it had ended in such disaster…
Aemond is not him. He is better. ]
would you help me braid it?
[ More and more matching. Each offering has her feeling a strange giddiness, and she wonders if she ought to be fearful of it. The last time she had felt this way it had ended in such disaster…
Aemond is not him. He is better. ]
would you help me braid it?
If you teach me how it is done, I would and happily. You need not ask.
[ she is allowed her liberties, his little dragon, his lady of the darkened touch. why can he not take her with him back to westeros, and make her his queen? why not her instead of the baratheon girl he cannot even name if he tried? ]
Perhaps we could together but alone. I should like for that to be just ours, and not with others.
[ she is allowed her liberties, his little dragon, his lady of the darkened touch. why can he not take her with him back to westeros, and make her his queen? why not her instead of the baratheon girl he cannot even name if he tried? ]
Perhaps we could together but alone. I should like for that to be just ours, and not with others.
then we might do hair for each other, if you would permit it.
[ Perhaps she should be shyer, more careful with things, but she cannot resist it. He draws her sweetness out so easily. ]
on the night of the party, let us prepare together. hair and clothes, to ensure the symmetry.
[ Perhaps she should be shyer, more careful with things, but she cannot resist it. He draws her sweetness out so easily. ]
on the night of the party, let us prepare together. hair and clothes, to ensure the symmetry.
[ this is a bit after dinner, as the plates are being cleared and guests have grouped together in the lobby to discuss plans for the evening. aemond himself has his plans, and he approaches lauralae with a quiet demeanor.
there is a cake waiting in his room, the last one of sanji's gifts that he's kept for himself. and for her, if she would have him. ]
Zaldrizives. Could I lure you away for a walk through the gardens?
there is a cake waiting in his room, the last one of sanji's gifts that he's kept for himself. and for her, if she would have him. ]
Zaldrizives. Could I lure you away for a walk through the gardens?
[ She had been prepared to disappear into the dark of the mansion and find somewhere quiet to rest for the evening, but Aemond’s approach has a warm smile settling on her face. If nothing else, Lauralae always seems quite glad to see him. ]
Draushum gra'kul. I would be happy to walk with you.
[ Happy and pleased, judging from how her smile widens. ]
Draushum gra'kul. I would be happy to walk with you.
[ Happy and pleased, judging from how her smile widens. ]
[ aemond smiles at her and softly, as he offers her his arm to take. he leans to her ear as if to speak a secret to her, keeping his voice low as he does. ]
Will you mind if we pass by my rooms first, then? There is something I'm like to share with you when we get to the gardens.
Nothing too foreign, I promise.
Will you mind if we pass by my rooms first, then? There is something I'm like to share with you when we get to the gardens.
Nothing too foreign, I promise.
You need not promise. I have faith in your word.
[ Lauralae might not go as far as to suggest that she trusts him, but she believes him when he says he will offer her something; she does not imagine he seeks to hurt her, not after what they have shared. ]
Guide me as you will, Aemond.
[ Lauralae might not go as far as to suggest that she trusts him, but she believes him when he says he will offer her something; she does not imagine he seeks to hurt her, not after what they have shared. ]
Guide me as you will, Aemond.
[ he nods to her, then gently leads her out into the hall where the grand stairs are. it's a bit of a walk to reach the residential floors, and aemond fills the time to ask lauralae about her day — who has she spent it with? what sorts of things has been entertained by? is there anything interesting to mention?
it is the height of poor manners to make a lady wait out in the hall, when they reach aemond's door, but he means to be quick. he enters, picks up the small basket he'd prepared before leaving for the dining hall, and returns to lauralae's side.
he's seized with a brief moment of awkwardness. ]
I thought we might look to the stars and... talk.
[ in his defence, he hadn't thought so far as to what they'll talk about. ]
it is the height of poor manners to make a lady wait out in the hall, when they reach aemond's door, but he means to be quick. he enters, picks up the small basket he'd prepared before leaving for the dining hall, and returns to lauralae's side.
he's seized with a brief moment of awkwardness. ]
I thought we might look to the stars and... talk.
[ in his defence, he hadn't thought so far as to what they'll talk about. ]
[ There is little that she might say: she speaks of the herbs in the forest, her enjoyment of a book she had found, and the quiet she had settled with as she had tried to visit Shadowheart - though she has been trying not to steal too often into Astarion's rooms, now he has a guest in his suite. It seems more appropriate, so she does not disturb him and his friendships.
She does adore the chicken, however.
Lauralae does not seem to care much for the awkwardness nor the delay, reaching to take his arm again and letting her fingers brush gently over his wrist, his palm, hesitating for a moment. He is warm, despite her gloves. Dragonfire in his blood, perhaps. ]
Do you know much of the stars? There are many stories to them.
[ That is an agreement, of course. ]
She does adore the chicken, however.
Lauralae does not seem to care much for the awkwardness nor the delay, reaching to take his arm again and letting her fingers brush gently over his wrist, his palm, hesitating for a moment. He is warm, despite her gloves. Dragonfire in his blood, perhaps. ]
Do you know much of the stars? There are many stories to them.
[ That is an agreement, of course. ]
I have been learning. They have names for the stars here, and I've lost myself a few times to the texts, trying to learn each one that I could find.
[ the library being closed had been a surprisingly difficult change to aemond's habits here with the balfours. he could while away the hours easily within, reading to his heart's delight; there are days when his melancholy overtakes his better sense, and he comforts himself with tales of knights and dragons and princesses, even if the dragons are so oft the villains in their stories.
they fear the dragons here, in this england. some of the stories point to dragons having flown in their skies; perhaps that is why he'd seen the one he had come upon. hunted to near-extinction - now only the stories remain.
the walk to the gardens is at least peaceful. no one accosts them along the way, though they do meet some familiar guests and give polite greeting as they pass. when he thinks no one is looking, aemond brings lauralae's hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles. ]
Should we try the benches, the open swings, or lay out on the grass?
[ the library being closed had been a surprisingly difficult change to aemond's habits here with the balfours. he could while away the hours easily within, reading to his heart's delight; there are days when his melancholy overtakes his better sense, and he comforts himself with tales of knights and dragons and princesses, even if the dragons are so oft the villains in their stories.
they fear the dragons here, in this england. some of the stories point to dragons having flown in their skies; perhaps that is why he'd seen the one he had come upon. hunted to near-extinction - now only the stories remain.
the walk to the gardens is at least peaceful. no one accosts them along the way, though they do meet some familiar guests and give polite greeting as they pass. when he thinks no one is looking, aemond brings lauralae's hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles. ]
Should we try the benches, the open swings, or lay out on the grass?
I wonder if the names are similar to the ones that I was taught.
[ They walk, easy and without concern, and Lauralae finds herself at peace. Aemond is taller than her, and it means that sometimes she can flick up her eyes to look at him and enjoy the shape of his face, the sharpness of his jaw, the way she would enjoy painting him. Charcoal would not suit him well, she thinks, but it is the best medium that she has.
Her mind wanders, quiet as she considers what she might offer, if she can recall all the names of the flickering lights in the sky, when her hand is drawn and his mouth is there, against her fingertips.
It makes her blush. ]
I believe the swings would be... Fun?
[ As if fun itself is strange to her. ]
[ They walk, easy and without concern, and Lauralae finds herself at peace. Aemond is taller than her, and it means that sometimes she can flick up her eyes to look at him and enjoy the shape of his face, the sharpness of his jaw, the way she would enjoy painting him. Charcoal would not suit him well, she thinks, but it is the best medium that she has.
Her mind wanders, quiet as she considers what she might offer, if she can recall all the names of the flickering lights in the sky, when her hand is drawn and his mouth is there, against her fingertips.
It makes her blush. ]
I believe the swings would be... Fun?
[ As if fun itself is strange to her. ]
[ what is fun? aemond's closest approximation to it is flying with vhagar, but it isn't an activity for his pleasure alone. he flies as a prince to enforce law and order, or raise fear among the smallfolk; in this aspect, flying has the faint poison of duty lacing through it.
he's willing to try something new for her, at the least. ]
The swings it is, then.
[ they're a different kind of swing — more two seats facing each other on a metal carriage, with a racked floor raised inches above the ground. the swings would mean sitting across from each other, but perhaps that's for the best in terms of propriety. aemond doesn't think his hands would wander, but he has a want for her touch, and he can be greedy.
he leads her up to the swings, steadying the frame so she wouldn't be thrown off her balance, then slips after her and takes the opposite bench from her. the cold isn't so heavy that the hinges are frozen over, but it is cold enough that the sky is clear, the moon luminous as it waxes overhead.
he points out a constellation to her, once he sights it. ]
There. That one, with five stars forming a letter. Do you see it? They call it the Cassiopeia. She is said to be a maiden of legend, do you know it?
he's willing to try something new for her, at the least. ]
The swings it is, then.
[ they're a different kind of swing — more two seats facing each other on a metal carriage, with a racked floor raised inches above the ground. the swings would mean sitting across from each other, but perhaps that's for the best in terms of propriety. aemond doesn't think his hands would wander, but he has a want for her touch, and he can be greedy.
he leads her up to the swings, steadying the frame so she wouldn't be thrown off her balance, then slips after her and takes the opposite bench from her. the cold isn't so heavy that the hinges are frozen over, but it is cold enough that the sky is clear, the moon luminous as it waxes overhead.
he points out a constellation to her, once he sights it. ]
There. That one, with five stars forming a letter. Do you see it? They call it the Cassiopeia. She is said to be a maiden of legend, do you know it?
Edited 2024-12-07 17:29 (UTC)
[ It is so easy to move with Aemond, to settle down in the swing and make herself comfortable. There’s a chill in the air, but she is warm enough and flushed from the contact that she does not feel it. It’s quiet enough that her focus can be entirely on him, her gaze lifting to gaze at the stars, to drink them in.
They’re unfamiliar, some of them, from what she knew. The stars are more important to some than others - sailors, wizards, those that require the night for their magics, but that was never her role. The night was her companion, the night was a friend to her, because it was safer.
Does she feel safe here? She’s not sure, but she feels safe with Aemond. ]
I do not know her. It is familiar to the Ice Snake in my realm.
[ Looking over, her smile softens, settled on him. ]
Will you tell me the tale?
They’re unfamiliar, some of them, from what she knew. The stars are more important to some than others - sailors, wizards, those that require the night for their magics, but that was never her role. The night was her companion, the night was a friend to her, because it was safer.
Does she feel safe here? She’s not sure, but she feels safe with Aemond. ]
I do not know her. It is familiar to the Ice Snake in my realm.
[ Looking over, her smile softens, settled on him. ]
Will you tell me the tale?
Hers is a Greek tale, from what I recall.
[ a story about a mother proud of her daughter and the gifts she had inherited of her, so much so that her pride had offended the daughters of another, greater house. and so cassiopeia's mother andromeda was compelled to sacrifice her beloved child to appease a more powerful man. it is all in vain in the end; her daughter is stolen from her grasp by a different man, and herself banished to the skies to watch her daughter grow into her years. cassiopeia outlives her child, and she will never be free to touch the earth again.
in hindsight, a terrible story for a light evening out. he looks to lauralae with some sheepishness. ]
Perhaps I should look for a kinder star-shape.
[ a story about a mother proud of her daughter and the gifts she had inherited of her, so much so that her pride had offended the daughters of another, greater house. and so cassiopeia's mother andromeda was compelled to sacrifice her beloved child to appease a more powerful man. it is all in vain in the end; her daughter is stolen from her grasp by a different man, and herself banished to the skies to watch her daughter grow into her years. cassiopeia outlives her child, and she will never be free to touch the earth again.
in hindsight, a terrible story for a light evening out. he looks to lauralae with some sheepishness. ]
Perhaps I should look for a kinder star-shape.
I could tell you the tale of mine, in replacement of it.
[ Lifting her hand, she traces the shape of where she thinks it might have been in the sky here. ]
Auroth was the mount of a goddess, Auril. When there was a battle between the Gods of the realm, he sacrificed himself to protect her and ascended to the sky as a reward for his selflessness. It is said people born under his star are cold, but dangerous in their rage.
[ Her eyes flick back. ]
It is a sweet tale.
[ Lifting her hand, she traces the shape of where she thinks it might have been in the sky here. ]
Auroth was the mount of a goddess, Auril. When there was a battle between the Gods of the realm, he sacrificed himself to protect her and ascended to the sky as a reward for his selflessness. It is said people born under his star are cold, but dangerous in their rage.
[ Her eyes flick back. ]
It is a sweet tale.
[ auroth, auril, and a battle between gods. it's familiar in a strange way, how some stories seem universal. every world has its gods and its conflicts. aemond wonders if these gods are the same ones across the universes - taking for themselves new names and faces, like a child might pick up a new shiny pebble or button as keepsake. ]
Perhaps he is my patron, were I born in your world. I would share in his rage, I should think.
[ aemond reaches for lauralae's hand where it's held out to the sky, bringing her fingertips to his mouth to press kisses to her knuckles. ]
What sort of mount was he?
Perhaps he is my patron, were I born in your world. I would share in his rage, I should think.
[ aemond reaches for lauralae's hand where it's held out to the sky, bringing her fingertips to his mouth to press kisses to her knuckles. ]
What sort of mount was he?
It is an easy thing to do. There is much to find rage in, in all realms.
[ To not be chosen, to be cast aside, to be hurt and harmed, to be stung by those that you once thought you loved - idle things that register in her mind, that burn inside her. A high price paid, but she will have her vengeance.
Drawn back to herself, her eyes flicker gently at the press of a mouth to knuckle, and she permits her fingers to brush gently over the shape of his, to seek out a touch to his jaw. She had told Alia how fond she was of the shape of him, and it remains so. ]
It is said he was an ice snake. They called him Icefang, the Swallower, and the Lightning Bolt.
[ To not be chosen, to be cast aside, to be hurt and harmed, to be stung by those that you once thought you loved - idle things that register in her mind, that burn inside her. A high price paid, but she will have her vengeance.
Drawn back to herself, her eyes flicker gently at the press of a mouth to knuckle, and she permits her fingers to brush gently over the shape of his, to seek out a touch to his jaw. She had told Alia how fond she was of the shape of him, and it remains so. ]
It is said he was an ice snake. They called him Icefang, the Swallower, and the Lightning Bolt.
An ice snake, ascending to join the stars.
[ something like a drake, then, if he be large enough to mount? aemond lets his imagination paint the image of a silver-blue dragon flying across the sky, wings where clawed limbs may be, eating lightning and drinking thunder as it courses through the twilight sky.
what a pretty picture it makes, and what a pretty maiden lauralae is before him. aemond can't help but smile against her fingers. ]
Does that make you my Auril? Would you allow it, when you have a greater power in your hands than I?
[ something like a drake, then, if he be large enough to mount? aemond lets his imagination paint the image of a silver-blue dragon flying across the sky, wings where clawed limbs may be, eating lightning and drinking thunder as it courses through the twilight sky.
what a pretty picture it makes, and what a pretty maiden lauralae is before him. aemond can't help but smile against her fingers. ]
Does that make you my Auril? Would you allow it, when you have a greater power in your hands than I?
I am no goddess.
[ It makes her smile all the same, a flickering of it on her features. There’s warmth to her around him, those soft affections bubbling inside of her and making her want all the more of his time. She is want to be greedy, she thinks, as has been her downfall before - to want more and more and more until there is little else to grasp.
Tempering herself is the harder of the battles. ]
And I would not have you die for me, sweet Aemond. But we might protect one another in this strange place.
[ It makes her smile all the same, a flickering of it on her features. There’s warmth to her around him, those soft affections bubbling inside of her and making her want all the more of his time. She is want to be greedy, she thinks, as has been her downfall before - to want more and more and more until there is little else to grasp.
Tempering herself is the harder of the battles. ]
And I would not have you die for me, sweet Aemond. But we might protect one another in this strange place.
I would think dragons are their own gods, Lauralae. Perhaps, if gods would not regard us worthy of them, then we do not likewise need them.
[ aemond learned ambition at an early age, claimed for himself vhagar when he took his lesson in it. was it the will of gods that he claimed her, only to lose his eye? did the gods guide lucerys's hand that night? that would give the gods too much credit, he thinks.
no, they have little need for gods, especially in a place like this. he has his family, and he has lauralae. though he desires vhagar to be with him, he still finds himself pleased to have what he has here. gods didn't give him this abundance, after all - he brought this to life with his own efforts and lauralae's assent. ]
I would like to protect you too, if it pleases, however I might perform that duty. You are dear to me, I'm afraid.
[ he's not going anywhere now. ]
[ aemond learned ambition at an early age, claimed for himself vhagar when he took his lesson in it. was it the will of gods that he claimed her, only to lose his eye? did the gods guide lucerys's hand that night? that would give the gods too much credit, he thinks.
no, they have little need for gods, especially in a place like this. he has his family, and he has lauralae. though he desires vhagar to be with him, he still finds himself pleased to have what he has here. gods didn't give him this abundance, after all - he brought this to life with his own efforts and lauralae's assent. ]
I would like to protect you too, if it pleases, however I might perform that duty. You are dear to me, I'm afraid.
[ he's not going anywhere now. ]
There are Gods that take the form of dragons, but they do not all do so. Each deity has an animal or a form most preferred, and that might differ from one realm to the other.
[ Lauralae could not consider herself an expert, not in all the Gods, but she learned enough to know the names of the most paramount and important of them. If she thought him truly a man who wanted to know them all, she would share it - but as it stands, she thinks it best to keep it to herself.
The stars above them are sparkling, bright lights in the sky, but it does not seem as bright as his attention on her, the way that her smile curls ever so softly. ]
You say it as though I would find it a punishment. You are dear to me, as well. Truly so.
[ Lauralae could not consider herself an expert, not in all the Gods, but she learned enough to know the names of the most paramount and important of them. If she thought him truly a man who wanted to know them all, she would share it - but as it stands, she thinks it best to keep it to herself.
The stars above them are sparkling, bright lights in the sky, but it does not seem as bright as his attention on her, the way that her smile curls ever so softly. ]
You say it as though I would find it a punishment. You are dear to me, as well. Truly so.
[ he mentions fear only because he doesn't know what this kind of affection might look like. he adores her, perhaps more than adores her, and she gives her affections to him willingly. it's terrifying in its own way — what should he do with it? rare is the time that someone gives him their fondness willingly. aemond can't even remember the last time it happened back home. ]
I might become sharp in your hands, in time. Would you still think it of me? That I am dear to you.
[ is he inviting his own heartbreak this way? who knows. aemond hasn't learned in his time at home, and he's not learned here either: how do you love someone gently? but it discredits lauralae to think she can't handle him. after all, she has fire in her blood, contained in her hands; she knows herself better. aemond need trust her in this, too. ]
If you could choose a different shape for yourself, which one would you prefer?
[ his own answer is likely obvious, but it doesn't mean he would not hear other answers to the same question. to be outside the mortal shape of a man is a known power in westeros, after all — wargers, shape-changers, children of the forest, even the draconic children and giants of old. ]
I might become sharp in your hands, in time. Would you still think it of me? That I am dear to you.
[ is he inviting his own heartbreak this way? who knows. aemond hasn't learned in his time at home, and he's not learned here either: how do you love someone gently? but it discredits lauralae to think she can't handle him. after all, she has fire in her blood, contained in her hands; she knows herself better. aemond need trust her in this, too. ]
If you could choose a different shape for yourself, which one would you prefer?
[ his own answer is likely obvious, but it doesn't mean he would not hear other answers to the same question. to be outside the mortal shape of a man is a known power in westeros, after all — wargers, shape-changers, children of the forest, even the draconic children and giants of old. ]
Edited 2025-01-20 08:13 (UTC)
[ It is a strange thing to her, to even have affection directed to her. The more she is in this place, the more she is around the friends she has come to call her own, the more comfortable she is and the more she recognises the good in herself. It means that she is more able to accept what Aemond offers her, the gentleness that is in his hands, despite his rage, despite the danger he might present. ]
You know what I am. What I have done. Am I not sharp as well? Am I not equally dangerous? Would you change your thoughts of me?
[ To love is to be violent, in her experience. Her parents had been cruel with her, demanding, shunning her when she had chosen a different path? Is she not a monster? Is she not a beast? Had she not done such horrible things?
The urge to hold him is overpowering, but she tempers herself. In this, she can be patient. ]
I think... I find most pleasure in being a wolf. It feels as though it fits my form, as though I breathe best when I shift to it. I have not practised with other creatures often, however.
You know what I am. What I have done. Am I not sharp as well? Am I not equally dangerous? Would you change your thoughts of me?
[ To love is to be violent, in her experience. Her parents had been cruel with her, demanding, shunning her when she had chosen a different path? Is she not a monster? Is she not a beast? Had she not done such horrible things?
The urge to hold him is overpowering, but she tempers herself. In this, she can be patient. ]
I think... I find most pleasure in being a wolf. It feels as though it fits my form, as though I breathe best when I shift to it. I have not practised with other creatures often, however.
[ sometime during the holiday season, wrapped in red and gold paper, tidily and well done because grace enlisted some of the staff to help her, a small gift is delivered to lauralae's door. inside is a tiny acorn locket. whenever lauralae discovers it can be twisted open, she'll find that the coil of paper inside reads in grace's loopy cursive: I've forgiven you, it's time to forgive yourself.
the card with the box reads simply, ]
Happy Holidays
-Grace
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the card with the box reads simply, ]
Happy Holidays
-Grace
[ this gift he delivers personally, though he waits until lauralae has left her room before placing it within. perhaps not the best course of action, considering, but he remains averse to seeing how his gifts will be received.
he's gotten her a few items agonised overlong for days on end:
— first is a signet ring bearing his personal sigil, the targaryen three-headed dragon in black against a dark green field;
— a set of seven hairpins shaped like stars, each one different from the rest;
— a pair of soft leather gloves in muted green;
— and finally, a green dress with gold and black accents, with little dragons and wolves embroidered in subtle design.
he doesn't linger. he gives her his one exception: he leaves card signed in green ink, kisses the top of it before tucking it under the thick green ribbon securing the box.
Syt Zaldrizives, hen Draushum Gra'kul.
it's not quite a name, but it is his as much as hers. ]
he's gotten her a few items agonised overlong for days on end:
— first is a signet ring bearing his personal sigil, the targaryen three-headed dragon in black against a dark green field;
— a set of seven hairpins shaped like stars, each one different from the rest;
— a pair of soft leather gloves in muted green;
— and finally, a green dress with gold and black accents, with little dragons and wolves embroidered in subtle design.
he doesn't linger. he gives her his one exception: he leaves card signed in green ink, kisses the top of it before tucking it under the thick green ribbon securing the box.
Syt Zaldrizives, hen Draushum Gra'kul.
it's not quite a name, but it is his as much as hers. ]
Edited 2024-12-11 13:28 (UTC)
[ On Christmas Eve, a large box finds its way to Lauralae's door. The contents are wrapped with black paper and silver ribbon — an unwitting complement to her own choices, though perhaps one they ought to have expected. Inside, several other boxes have been wrapped in red paper, and the contents are as follows:
— A sheer white blouse with a black ribbon at the collar and pearl buttons, with her name carefully embroidered in silver thread upon the seam right underneath where the ribbon would typically fall.There's a letter as well, written in Astarion's neat hand (somewhat shorter than his first draft, but more to his satisfaction where levels of emotional vulnerability are concerned): ]
— A smaller set of clothes, practically matching, for the doll she so treasures.
— A perfume bottle containing a bolder, warmer floral fragrance. Around its neck, another velvet ribbon, this one embroidered with the words dove's nest.
— And, finally, a fine, pale grey feather, with a black satin ribbon tied around the bare shaft.
Little dove,
As a rule, I put very little stock in things like luck and divine providence. But how else to explain the circumstances of our meeting?
You know, I hope, how dear you are to me. That you are deserving of being held dear. Let no one make you think otherwise.
The feather, as you may have guessed, is a token from Shadowheart. She picked it herself.
Yours,
Astarion
[ She knocks on Lauralae's door, a bag with two wrapped presents inside. Cellar says she can't stay for long — she just wanted to bring these over, and asks Lauralae to open it only on Christmas day. She leaves with a kiss on her cheek.
The presents: a necklace, completely dark and textureless. It doesn't reflect light and doesn't cast a shadow, because it is made of shadows. The necklace will be indestructible for as long as Cellar is in Saltburn, or until she dies. The second present is a blank recipe book where she can write down her favorite recipes for posterity.
A little note says Merry X-mas Lauralae! Thank you for being you. 🕷️ ]
The presents: a necklace, completely dark and textureless. It doesn't reflect light and doesn't cast a shadow, because it is made of shadows. The necklace will be indestructible for as long as Cellar is in Saltburn, or until she dies. The second present is a blank recipe book where she can write down her favorite recipes for posterity.
A little note says Merry X-mas Lauralae! Thank you for being you. 🕷️ ]
[Delivered to Lae's room is a pastel blue box. Inside she'll find a long, olive colored coat, fur lined and with silver embroidery, including a wolves running along the bottom seam. With it are matching silver bows for her hair. There is a note within the box:]
Happy Christmas, Lae. I hope this finds you well, and keeps you warm if you should need it.
Thinking of you always,
Francesca
Happy Christmas, Lae. I hope this finds you well, and keeps you warm if you should need it.
Thinking of you always,
Francesca
[Alia’s gift is wrapped somewhat clumsily in brown paper, likely taken from the kitchens, and taped excessively to ensure it’s secure. Inside, resting in sparkly, star-studded tissue paper: A midnight-black set of lingerie with matching gloves.
A smooth-polished rock from the lake (yes, everyone gets a rock) with the gift-receiver’s initials carefully carved into it (with what? Don’t worry about it.)
A business card for Sol & Scroll, because if you aren’t patronizing it, you should be.
There’s also a note, scribbled on notebook paper stolen from Alina (sorry, babe):]
Za'eb -
Nothing could make you lovelier than you are. This place does not deserve you, nor your light. If you ever begin to doubt your worth, seek me out.
I will remind you.
- Alia
There’s also a note, scribbled on notebook paper stolen from Alina (sorry, babe):]
Za'eb -
Nothing could make you lovelier than you are. This place does not deserve you, nor your light. If you ever begin to doubt your worth, seek me out.
I will remind you.
- Alia
[ we can be problematic youths AND have normal interests! like trying to cheer on the girl you've been dating. ]
What do you think about this one?
[ IMG_000786.JPG ]
What do you think about this one?
[ IMG_000786.JPG ]
[ IMG_000787.JPG ]
She's very small for her kind. She'll fit easily in your hands.
[ as are most young animals, same as human infants. he's trying his best here! ]
She's very small for her kind. She'll fit easily in your hands.
[ as are most young animals, same as human infants. he's trying his best here! ]
There's a copse out in the woods with small animals gathered. Fairly warm, which is why they linger there. Small cats yesterday; this pup, this morning.
I've tried to leave scraps for them to find.
[ equal parts to encourage them to survive, and to keep them alive if their mothers had gone on hunts for too long. winter is desolate, and aemond imagines food is scarcer given the weather. ]
Would you like to come and see them for a bit?
I've tried to leave scraps for them to find.
[ equal parts to encourage them to survive, and to keep them alive if their mothers had gone on hunts for too long. winter is desolate, and aemond imagines food is scarcer given the weather. ]
Would you like to come and see them for a bit?
Together, of course. I would not leave you to weather the cold alone.
[ and if he's being truthful, he wants to see her just for the pleasure of seeing her. his little dragon, his sweet destroyer, mother of his future dragonlings. they will needs talk about it too, eventually, about bringing the hatchlings to this place. perhaps after— after his mother. there will be time enough. he will make the time. ]
What do wolves eat?
[ and if he's being truthful, he wants to see her just for the pleasure of seeing her. his little dragon, his sweet destroyer, mother of his future dragonlings. they will needs talk about it too, eventually, about bringing the hatchlings to this place. perhaps after— after his mother. there will be time enough. he will make the time. ]
What do wolves eat?
a sweetness indeed.
[ She would be content to spend many hours of the day with him. There’s a charm to him she cannot deny, and it warms her heart to know that he wants to spend the time with her, too. To be chosen is special indeed, isn’t it? She’s starting to learn. ]
meats, usually. as raw as possible. i could hunt for them?
[ She would be content to spend many hours of the day with him. There’s a charm to him she cannot deny, and it warms her heart to know that he wants to spend the time with her, too. To be chosen is special indeed, isn’t it? She’s starting to learn. ]
meats, usually. as raw as possible. i could hunt for them?
In this weather? Would you not be cold?
[ a sudden worry: lauralae finding herself frozen in the weather. certainly she would know better about her own body, but aemond would rather she didn't put herself at an inconvenience, regardless of the occasion. they have servants in the manor they could put to work; no lady of his needs work for small game. ]
Only if you would like to, Lauralae. I'd like not to have you freezing in this ugly weather.
[ a sudden worry: lauralae finding herself frozen in the weather. certainly she would know better about her own body, but aemond would rather she didn't put herself at an inconvenience, regardless of the occasion. they have servants in the manor they could put to work; no lady of his needs work for small game. ]
Only if you would like to, Lauralae. I'd like not to have you freezing in this ugly weather.
[ For all that she said she might be fine in the snow, Lauralae does dress warm.
Her long gloves are in place, as they always are, but she is wrapped in a coat lined with fur and silver bows in her hair - some of the Christmas gifts that had come to her and left her feeling special, and chosen. As promised, his ring rests along her neck, cool against the skin of her chest, adjacent to a small vial of blood.
It is likely a normal thing, for her, strange for anyone else, to carry blood so casually.
Pale skin flushed with the bite of cold, her attention lifts immediately as she hears his approach, stepping forward with a fond smile, settled and warm on her features. ]
Aemond.
Her long gloves are in place, as they always are, but she is wrapped in a coat lined with fur and silver bows in her hair - some of the Christmas gifts that had come to her and left her feeling special, and chosen. As promised, his ring rests along her neck, cool against the skin of her chest, adjacent to a small vial of blood.
It is likely a normal thing, for her, strange for anyone else, to carry blood so casually.
Pale skin flushed with the bite of cold, her attention lifts immediately as she hears his approach, stepping forward with a fond smile, settled and warm on her features. ]
Aemond.
[ aemond is dressed as though he's facing a great blizzard. he's never experienced the cold of winter all his young life, given how weather progresses in westeros - years could go between winters, and summer could last for decades on. as it is so, aemond is bundled up and tucked into thick wool and cotton. his nose barely peeks out of the scarf he's wrapped around his shoulders.
despite the weather and the shorn length of his hair, however, the green and black of lauralae's given braid is clearly worn on his lefthand side, where it might brush against his scar.
it's the little things that say the most, sometimes, as his whole being warms at the sight of his dragoness standing before him. ]
Lauralae. Zaldrizives, my little dragon. [ he reaches out to her to adjust the chain from where his ring hangs. he cannot see the ring, but he imagines it against her skin; his cheeks flush in colour at the thought. ] How fares my lady?
despite the weather and the shorn length of his hair, however, the green and black of lauralae's given braid is clearly worn on his lefthand side, where it might brush against his scar.
it's the little things that say the most, sometimes, as his whole being warms at the sight of his dragoness standing before him. ]
Lauralae. Zaldrizives, my little dragon. [ he reaches out to her to adjust the chain from where his ring hangs. he cannot see the ring, but he imagines it against her skin; his cheeks flush in colour at the thought. ] How fares my lady?
Edited 2025-01-08 22:34 (UTC)
[ There is a sweetness to him, she thinks, to see him wrapped up so, covered to hide from the winter chill. Winter had been a harsher season in the forests, far less food to hunt and more need for the dried meats and the scant food she might grow herself, but it had been tolerable. She had slept as a wolf, she had been able to curl up and find respite, in spite of it all.
She wonders how it would be, to be a dragon and experience the winter. To feel the chill of snow on scales, rather than fur, or to fly above the clouds and see the sleet settle on the earth below. She had not thought of it often, but it settles in her mind now, something warm and fond in her as she focuses on Aemond.
His dragon, he calls her, and it warms her more than any coat might. His lady, he says, and the term has never suited her so well. ]
I am content. I do not mind the chill in the air, though it seems to have captured you.
[ One hand lifts, the edge of her knuckle brushing against the skin bared under his scarf, glove silk on his cooler skin, her smile warming all the more for their closeness, the way he touches the ring around her neck. ]
Do you need a fire to warm you?
She wonders how it would be, to be a dragon and experience the winter. To feel the chill of snow on scales, rather than fur, or to fly above the clouds and see the sleet settle on the earth below. She had not thought of it often, but it settles in her mind now, something warm and fond in her as she focuses on Aemond.
His dragon, he calls her, and it warms her more than any coat might. His lady, he says, and the term has never suited her so well. ]
I am content. I do not mind the chill in the air, though it seems to have captured you.
[ One hand lifts, the edge of her knuckle brushing against the skin bared under his scarf, glove silk on his cooler skin, her smile warming all the more for their closeness, the way he touches the ring around her neck. ]
Do you need a fire to warm you?
Not yet, no. But the little wolf might, when we find him or his litter.
[ tucked under one arm is a small wrap of butcher paper, within it some raw cuts of meats. mostly it's salted pork, boneless slices of saltwater fish, some rinds of beef fat, some chicken kidneys and skin. it's a decent assortment of meats that might do a wolfling some good, but aemond worries the cold will have frozen it by now. it'll need some thawing by the fire, and while he's decent at keeping a fire going in fair weather — well, this is fair as a picture, but colder than a septa's gaze.
he draws close to lae, leaning to her touch for warmth, and he dares: a light kiss pressed to her brow, a more sanguine one to her cheek. ]
Is it strange that I should say I've missed your company, when you're ever a brief walk away from me? [ and it's true that he feels her absence; not as a keen ache, but a constantly murmuring brook running undercurrent his pulse. ] Were it that it's warm enough for us both, and the sky a brighter blue.
[ tucked under one arm is a small wrap of butcher paper, within it some raw cuts of meats. mostly it's salted pork, boneless slices of saltwater fish, some rinds of beef fat, some chicken kidneys and skin. it's a decent assortment of meats that might do a wolfling some good, but aemond worries the cold will have frozen it by now. it'll need some thawing by the fire, and while he's decent at keeping a fire going in fair weather — well, this is fair as a picture, but colder than a septa's gaze.
he draws close to lae, leaning to her touch for warmth, and he dares: a light kiss pressed to her brow, a more sanguine one to her cheek. ]
Is it strange that I should say I've missed your company, when you're ever a brief walk away from me? [ and it's true that he feels her absence; not as a keen ache, but a constantly murmuring brook running undercurrent his pulse. ] Were it that it's warm enough for us both, and the sky a brighter blue.
Then a fire shall be made for him.
[ A keen nose can scent the meat he carries, and it warms her still - that he would provide. There's a feral, animalistic part of her that appreciates that, the knowledge of providing food even in the depth of winter, of being able to care for young. The part of Lauralae that had been wolf for too long, lending herself to the more canine parts of herself, seems to thrum with it, a little pulse of her heart. It is attractive, in a way she thinks not to spend too much time dwelling upon.
Those thoughts seem to fade upon the press of something as simple as a kiss upon her, dark eyes flickering up to him, devouring the hisses of skin through the fabrics he is layered in. There is an urge, a brief flash, to press their lips together and be more daring, but she pauses.
Their time will come, and she finds something tender in their sweetness, in the gentleness they share with each other. ]
Time passes swiftly here, with so much to do. I do not think it strange. [ Even so close, there are libraries, training grounds, people to meet and spend the hours away with. Lauralae folds herself into the woods often enough that she might disappear for hours on end, unfindable. ] It is a pleasure to know that we might message one another whenever we wish.
[ Reaching out, her fingers stroke along his, in askance. ]
Will you show me the wolves, danthe gra'kul?
[ A keen nose can scent the meat he carries, and it warms her still - that he would provide. There's a feral, animalistic part of her that appreciates that, the knowledge of providing food even in the depth of winter, of being able to care for young. The part of Lauralae that had been wolf for too long, lending herself to the more canine parts of herself, seems to thrum with it, a little pulse of her heart. It is attractive, in a way she thinks not to spend too much time dwelling upon.
Those thoughts seem to fade upon the press of something as simple as a kiss upon her, dark eyes flickering up to him, devouring the hisses of skin through the fabrics he is layered in. There is an urge, a brief flash, to press their lips together and be more daring, but she pauses.
Their time will come, and she finds something tender in their sweetness, in the gentleness they share with each other. ]
Time passes swiftly here, with so much to do. I do not think it strange. [ Even so close, there are libraries, training grounds, people to meet and spend the hours away with. Lauralae folds herself into the woods often enough that she might disappear for hours on end, unfindable. ] It is a pleasure to know that we might message one another whenever we wish.
[ Reaching out, her fingers stroke along his, in askance. ]
Will you show me the wolves, danthe gra'kul?
[ the convenience of the hand devices do help, aemond concedes. it's become something he relied on, being able to reach family with a simple missive. he could speak to his mother easily if he likes, or hail aegon, or any of the acquaintances he's made here.
there are names at the top of his phonebook. lae's name sits among them. ]
I saw the wolf here, [ he starts, taking lae's hand in his own to lead her further into the copse. the snow crunches softly underfoot; aemond treads carefully , so as not to step into anything that he might slip on or stumble.
nothing happens right away once they've reached the clearing. but after a few moments, a wolf pup shows its head from ahead of them, yipping quietly and trotting back and forth. aemond crouches and calls to the little thing, beckoning it with an open hand. ]
Come over, zoklitsos. Come to us? Please?
there are names at the top of his phonebook. lae's name sits among them. ]
I saw the wolf here, [ he starts, taking lae's hand in his own to lead her further into the copse. the snow crunches softly underfoot; aemond treads carefully , so as not to step into anything that he might slip on or stumble.
nothing happens right away once they've reached the clearing. but after a few moments, a wolf pup shows its head from ahead of them, yipping quietly and trotting back and forth. aemond crouches and calls to the little thing, beckoning it with an open hand. ]
Come over, zoklitsos. Come to us? Please?
[ The convenience is not often the best encouragement for Lauralae, not when she is so reticent to use them, often forgets that she ought to use it, to stay connected to the people that she has begun to care for. It is hard to remember that she can, that she is not isolated, that she is not living alone - a strangeness she is adjusting to.
She will make an effort. She has to.
There is no hesitation as she follows after Aemond, her fingers curling around his. Her nose twitches a little as they get closer, and when she catches the scent, her gaze flickers. It's cute, so small, and it possesses her immediately; lowering herself down to her knees, she breathes out, something low coming from her throat.
Not quite the same as a growl she might muster if she were truly a wolf, but not a poor imitation. ]
Sweet thing. You are safe.
[ Her fingers flex, just so, as the wolf twitches, as if trying to make a decision. ]
She will make an effort. She has to.
There is no hesitation as she follows after Aemond, her fingers curling around his. Her nose twitches a little as they get closer, and when she catches the scent, her gaze flickers. It's cute, so small, and it possesses her immediately; lowering herself down to her knees, she breathes out, something low coming from her throat.
Not quite the same as a growl she might muster if she were truly a wolf, but not a poor imitation. ]
Sweet thing. You are safe.
[ Her fingers flex, just so, as the wolf twitches, as if trying to make a decision. ]
[ she coos to the little thing and aemond watches her with a gentle affection rising in him. lauralae, his dangerous lady, his woman, his dragoness. that she holds such gentleness in her even with the fire she holds in her hands is a wonder, and aemond wishes to keep her so for as long as she allows.
they will have their kingdom.
aemond slips the wrapped meats to the packed snow and unwraps it carefully, making sure to keep the paper spread out and wide. the meats are stuck together from the fat and oils having frozen together, but perhaps a quick fire will soften them enough to slip apart, be fed piecemeal.
he turns to lae with a questioning look, hesitant to break her picturesque way of cradling the little wolf.
(perhaps... their own dragonlings? one day?) ]
Should I...?
they will have their kingdom.
aemond slips the wrapped meats to the packed snow and unwraps it carefully, making sure to keep the paper spread out and wide. the meats are stuck together from the fat and oils having frozen together, but perhaps a quick fire will soften them enough to slip apart, be fed piecemeal.
he turns to lae with a questioning look, hesitant to break her picturesque way of cradling the little wolf.
(perhaps... their own dragonlings? one day?) ]
Should I...?
[ There is something that comes from being around animals that is soothing to her, softening some of the edges of her. There is a darkness to her, there is a violence to her, something she does not hide in the wake of the game of the Hallows, but this inspires the side of her that might have been long forgotten. The wolf cub comes to her, curls into her, presses its face against her gloved wrist, and she seems to melt.
Is it for being a cub, or for being a wolf? It is hard to tell.
Drawn out of her thoughts, away from the idyllic joy of being around nature, she looks over at Aemond and tilts her head. ]
You might offer him some, if you like. I can warm them enough to separate.
[ The wolf, scenting the meat, makes a little noise, between a yip and a growl, and begins to wiggle towards Aemond, nosing at his leg. ]
He seems fond enough of you.
Is it for being a cub, or for being a wolf? It is hard to tell.
Drawn out of her thoughts, away from the idyllic joy of being around nature, she looks over at Aemond and tilts her head. ]
You might offer him some, if you like. I can warm them enough to separate.
[ The wolf, scenting the meat, makes a little noise, between a yip and a growl, and begins to wiggle towards Aemond, nosing at his leg. ]
He seems fond enough of you.
He is a babe, and like as not learned to fear man just yet.
[ there is no heat to aemond's saying of it, even as he holds still to not spook the wolf pup. slowly the wolfling makes its way to aemond's hand that holds out the meat, first licking at the offered meal before teasing at biting it. then, bravery — it sinks its milkteeth into the meat, pulls it clean from aemond's hand to eat on the snow. for a brief second he wonders if the babe finds the cooled meat appealing, but he supposes hunger can make even the coldest plate seem delightful.
something is better than nothing, after all. he brushes light snow off the pup's face with the back of his gloved fingers, and the pup ducks for a moment before butting his head against aemond's knuckles, trilling lightly for more food.
aemond looks over to lauralae with a gentled smile on his mouth. ]
Would you like to feed him this time? The little one hungers.
[ there is no heat to aemond's saying of it, even as he holds still to not spook the wolf pup. slowly the wolfling makes its way to aemond's hand that holds out the meat, first licking at the offered meal before teasing at biting it. then, bravery — it sinks its milkteeth into the meat, pulls it clean from aemond's hand to eat on the snow. for a brief second he wonders if the babe finds the cooled meat appealing, but he supposes hunger can make even the coldest plate seem delightful.
something is better than nothing, after all. he brushes light snow off the pup's face with the back of his gloved fingers, and the pup ducks for a moment before butting his head against aemond's knuckles, trilling lightly for more food.
aemond looks over to lauralae with a gentled smile on his mouth. ]
Would you like to feed him this time? The little one hungers.
There is no pack to guide him. That is a sad thing indeed, to be so alone.
[ The words come from a place of pained understanding. Lauralae had been alone for decades, no pack, no family, no one to care for her or find her food. She has survived it fuelled only by her need for vengeance and her desire to reclaim what was lost, growing in skill and power in isolation. Her grief had taken decades to ease, but here, surrounded by others who care for her and warm her?
She feels stronger than ever.
Shifting closer to Aemond, she takes a piece of the meat and offers it to the cub, even as she finds her voice, a little shy and hoarse in her throat. ]
I would. But I also...
[ A glance to him, cheeks flushed from more than the cold. ]
If we are to say what I would like, then I would like to kiss you.
[ The words come from a place of pained understanding. Lauralae had been alone for decades, no pack, no family, no one to care for her or find her food. She has survived it fuelled only by her need for vengeance and her desire to reclaim what was lost, growing in skill and power in isolation. Her grief had taken decades to ease, but here, surrounded by others who care for her and warm her?
She feels stronger than ever.
Shifting closer to Aemond, she takes a piece of the meat and offers it to the cub, even as she finds her voice, a little shy and hoarse in her throat. ]
I would. But I also...
[ A glance to him, cheeks flushed from more than the cold. ]
If we are to say what I would like, then I would like to kiss you.
[ oh.
he doesn't expect it, the way he feels himself flush with warmth, and he thinks his cheeks must be full of colour suddenly, visible from where they peek out from his scarf. ]
I would like that, also.
[ aemond waits until she's done feeding the little wolf, its pleased noises calling others out from their hiding places and drawing closer to the pile of meats. he endeavours to move it off the snow, to place it on top of a log or a stone or anywhere else where it might not freeze immediately. but aemond does not understand the cold; lauralae helps him fix the little pile, their gloved fingers brushing as they arrange their little paper spread.
in the lull of such moments, aemond looks up to peer at his lady. she is beautiful, darkly beautiful even in winter's brightness; he could look at her for hours and not tire of her loveliness. without thinking deeply about it he lets himself cup her cheek to draw her in, and kisses her.
months later, he finally dares. ]
he doesn't expect it, the way he feels himself flush with warmth, and he thinks his cheeks must be full of colour suddenly, visible from where they peek out from his scarf. ]
I would like that, also.
[ aemond waits until she's done feeding the little wolf, its pleased noises calling others out from their hiding places and drawing closer to the pile of meats. he endeavours to move it off the snow, to place it on top of a log or a stone or anywhere else where it might not freeze immediately. but aemond does not understand the cold; lauralae helps him fix the little pile, their gloved fingers brushing as they arrange their little paper spread.
in the lull of such moments, aemond looks up to peer at his lady. she is beautiful, darkly beautiful even in winter's brightness; he could look at her for hours and not tire of her loveliness. without thinking deeply about it he lets himself cup her cheek to draw her in, and kisses her.
months later, he finally dares. ]
[ It seems too strange, to admit to such a soft and simple thing in a place like this, where their interactions with other people would be of a deeper and more intense intimacy than a single kiss. To ask for it feels bold, when their relationship has been so formal, so noble in the way it has shaped itself - it feels as if she has returned to a home she once knew, but in a way that is pleasant rather than cruel.
She does not feel as if she is some possession to be bought and sold. She feels as if she is cherished, wanted, and it is a novelty she imagined far foreign to her. It is especially strange to think it would come from someone who she regards as highly as she does Aemond, warring with her belief of deserving his affections.
It means that when he kisses her she does not hesitate, for not even a moment; she had expressed her want for it, and he had offered it to her so sweetly. The wolves around them take of their meats, and she can let them slip from her mind as she permits herself the joy of sinking into him.
Never has a first kiss felt as if it had so much weight, felt so special to her. Lauralae returns it, her fingers rising to grasp at him, as if to hold him in place, tilting her head to kiss him with all the sweetness and need that she posseses. ]
She does not feel as if she is some possession to be bought and sold. She feels as if she is cherished, wanted, and it is a novelty she imagined far foreign to her. It is especially strange to think it would come from someone who she regards as highly as she does Aemond, warring with her belief of deserving his affections.
It means that when he kisses her she does not hesitate, for not even a moment; she had expressed her want for it, and he had offered it to her so sweetly. The wolves around them take of their meats, and she can let them slip from her mind as she permits herself the joy of sinking into him.
Never has a first kiss felt as if it had so much weight, felt so special to her. Lauralae returns it, her fingers rising to grasp at him, as if to hold him in place, tilting her head to kiss him with all the sweetness and need that she posseses. ]
[ they've danced around this kiss for months. months on end of courtship, and though aemond has not been intentionally precious with his affections for lauralae, he can admit to wanting their first kiss to mean something more than a simple fancy. she is a friend first before she became his lady, their shared afternoons reading side by side having made up the bulk of their initial encounters.
how long has it been? from books shared in the gardens, to books shared over sweets and tea in their rooms, to shared warmth under the sheets to sleep the cold away. and only to sleep — aemond had not impugned on her virtue, even when he kisses her shoulder in the half-waking moments of the night. his wolf. his dragon. his lady.
he makes a small noise against her mouth that perhaps sounds pained, but it is not pain that courses through him now but warmth. desire, a slow-burning desire for her as he mirrors her grasp upon him. aemond pulls her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist to draw her up and close to him. when they part their breaths warm each other, and aemond chases after the steam, nosing along the shape of her cheeks.
seven help him, he's so deeply fond of her it aches. he wants her, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a terrible one for either of them. ]
Lauralae— [ he tries, sounding completely at the mercy of his desire. he tries again, and he's only a little steadier— ] Lae, my dragoness, may I touch you?
how long has it been? from books shared in the gardens, to books shared over sweets and tea in their rooms, to shared warmth under the sheets to sleep the cold away. and only to sleep — aemond had not impugned on her virtue, even when he kisses her shoulder in the half-waking moments of the night. his wolf. his dragon. his lady.
he makes a small noise against her mouth that perhaps sounds pained, but it is not pain that courses through him now but warmth. desire, a slow-burning desire for her as he mirrors her grasp upon him. aemond pulls her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist to draw her up and close to him. when they part their breaths warm each other, and aemond chases after the steam, nosing along the shape of her cheeks.
seven help him, he's so deeply fond of her it aches. he wants her, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a terrible one for either of them. ]
Lauralae— [ he tries, sounding completely at the mercy of his desire. he tries again, and he's only a little steadier— ] Lae, my dragoness, may I touch you?
[ It is the kind of courtship that a younger version of herself might have dreamed of, might have longed for in this quiet nights of isolation and sadness trapped in a home she hated. She thought she’d had it once, with a man who so easily betrayed her, but this - this is different. The warmth she feels with Aemond, her desire to please him, to cherish him, to protect him… That feels like so much more than what she had shared before.
Lauralae wants to take care of him, to curl up with him more, to braid his hair and read to him, to whisper the sweet things in his ear and mean them. With his grief, with his heartache, with his joys and his anger - she would be at his side for it all, if he would permit it. How much she wishes to do, this feeling of warmth and sweetness bubbling inside her, growing stronger each and every day.
Aemond encourages sweetness in her, and that is so foreign a concept, even here. He makes her happy, and what a notion that is.
Breathless, she laughs against his lips, fond and soft, a shy sound as her hand raises to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the shape of his bone, expression sweet.
She adores him. What a strange thing to admit, that her heart is racing with a giddiness rather than because of grief or fear, longtime playmates becoming more and more foreign.
Stealing another brief kiss, she nods. ]
Please. Touch me as you desire and it will please me wholly.
Lauralae wants to take care of him, to curl up with him more, to braid his hair and read to him, to whisper the sweet things in his ear and mean them. With his grief, with his heartache, with his joys and his anger - she would be at his side for it all, if he would permit it. How much she wishes to do, this feeling of warmth and sweetness bubbling inside her, growing stronger each and every day.
Aemond encourages sweetness in her, and that is so foreign a concept, even here. He makes her happy, and what a notion that is.
Breathless, she laughs against his lips, fond and soft, a shy sound as her hand raises to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the shape of his bone, expression sweet.
She adores him. What a strange thing to admit, that her heart is racing with a giddiness rather than because of grief or fear, longtime playmates becoming more and more foreign.
Stealing another brief kiss, she nods. ]
Please. Touch me as you desire and it will please me wholly.
[ in truth aemond has never considered himself given to such courtships. his marriage will be arranged for him, same as his betrothal would have been if not for the war; it is the way of things, the way of his life as a prince of the realm. princes rare marry for love, after all. even viserys, who found a great love with his ever-sainted aemma arryn, was betrothed to her first at a sturdy sturdy nine-and-ten to her three-and-ten. rhaenyra followed quickly, and so beloved thanks to their mutual affection for one another.
aemond thought he might resent such a love. but with lae in his arms like this, warm and real against him, he thinks he might change his might about asking for marriage as a love match. so what of her darker colours? she is blood of the dragon, she is a dragon herself, more than his baratheon woman could ever dream.
he leans into her gloved hand, then leans into her, kissined her again and again (and again) until his breath catches thin in his throat. his hands cannot stop their wandering along lae's waist and up her back, winding and combing fingers through her hair. ]
My lady. My beautiful dragoness, [ he sighs against her lips. ] May I touch your skin?
aemond thought he might resent such a love. but with lae in his arms like this, warm and real against him, he thinks he might change his might about asking for marriage as a love match. so what of her darker colours? she is blood of the dragon, she is a dragon herself, more than his baratheon woman could ever dream.
he leans into her gloved hand, then leans into her, kissined her again and again (and again) until his breath catches thin in his throat. his hands cannot stop their wandering along lae's waist and up her back, winding and combing fingers through her hair. ]
My lady. My beautiful dragoness, [ he sighs against her lips. ] May I touch your skin?
[ It burns with pleasure inside her, to be called his, to belong to someone, to be claimed, even if it is only so gently and wish soft words. It sings to the primal, feral side of her that is more wolf than girl, less human than she might have been a century ago, but she does not fear it. She does not feel as if it is a bad thing, to be so herself with Aemond, to let him kiss her and kiss her and know her for what she is and could become.
Another kiss, and another, their mouths press together, and she seeks out more of it. He tastes pleasant, he tastes perfect, and she has a pained urge to sink her fangs into his lip and devour him, to leave her mark on him so that others might see. Painful and possessive, she has to force herself back, to breathe in gently before her eyes flicker up to look upon him once more.
Her dragon, her husband, the man she had formed such an attachment to she had begged Alia for advice, for some knowledge of how best to earn his favour, to have his eye turn to her. The success in that astounds her.
Breathless, she nods her head, their noses brushing. ]
I can ask the pups to give us a little time. [ Another kiss stolen, as swift as the fluttering of eyelashes. ] And create a warm space for us.
Another kiss, and another, their mouths press together, and she seeks out more of it. He tastes pleasant, he tastes perfect, and she has a pained urge to sink her fangs into his lip and devour him, to leave her mark on him so that others might see. Painful and possessive, she has to force herself back, to breathe in gently before her eyes flicker up to look upon him once more.
Her dragon, her husband, the man she had formed such an attachment to she had begged Alia for advice, for some knowledge of how best to earn his favour, to have his eye turn to her. The success in that astounds her.
Breathless, she nods her head, their noses brushing. ]
I can ask the pups to give us a little time. [ Another kiss stolen, as swift as the fluttering of eyelashes. ] And create a warm space for us.
[ In the words of Gandalf the Grey, a wizard arrives precisely when he means to. That includes his written letters, the likes of which will probably reach Lauralae during January There is a small item enclosed in the envelope. A small card reads: Handmade! It's tiger eye and lava rock, and is meant to warm you up. If the charm ever runs out, let me know.]
[ he still has daemon's scent when returns to lae's comforts, approaches her with scored lines on his back still heating his skin. his dear wife, his woman — aemond sits by her, respectful in keeping their spaces, and holds out a hand to her.
he's wiped the blood from his mouth, but not from the rest of him. ]
Wife, [ he greets her fondly, intent on kissing her knuckles if she offers a hand. ] I come with a confession.
he's wiped the blood from his mouth, but not from the rest of him. ]
Wife, [ he greets her fondly, intent on kissing her knuckles if she offers a hand. ] I come with a confession.
[ She scents the blood on him before entering else, a prickling uncertainty and fear flooding her at the notion of his being attacked, of being harmed. It takes little to have her rising and turning her gaze to him, sharp nose trying to source the weight of his hurts and if there is anything to be done for it.
Lauralae has healing magic: she is just poor at it.
There’s no hesitation as she allows herself to go to him, even as her head tilts. The scent of family is not a strange one upon Aemond, but there’s something heavier to it now, something her mind can guess at. She holds no judgement, however, expression unchanging as she regards him. ]
I will hear it, husband, whatever you’ve to offer.
Lauralae has healing magic: she is just poor at it.
There’s no hesitation as she allows herself to go to him, even as her head tilts. The scent of family is not a strange one upon Aemond, but there’s something heavier to it now, something her mind can guess at. She holds no judgement, however, expression unchanging as she regards him. ]
I will hear it, husband, whatever you’ve to offer.
[ his beloved wife gives him the grace to speak his mind at his liberty, and once more he is struck by her character — the sweetness of her, unwarranted in aemond's eye when she turns it upon him. he deserves love, and he deserves adoration. he knows this. he is just as worthy as any. yet it surprises him every time when he grasps for affection and finds it given easily, yielded to him simply by his asking.
he does not question it. he is deeply fond her, carries a great affection for her. is this what love is? ]
I... You know that I do not keep you to promises of faithfulness. I do not ask you to keep only to our bed, not when you have made lovers of others before I. And you know of my blood, our relations. We marry family to family. Sister to brother, niece to uncle.
I am no different. I have lain with my blood, dear wife. Do you mislike it?
he does not question it. he is deeply fond her, carries a great affection for her. is this what love is? ]
I... You know that I do not keep you to promises of faithfulness. I do not ask you to keep only to our bed, not when you have made lovers of others before I. And you know of my blood, our relations. We marry family to family. Sister to brother, niece to uncle.
I am no different. I have lain with my blood, dear wife. Do you mislike it?
[ Does she mislike it?
She has no kin of her own left, to lie with or to hate, no real brother nor sister nor uncle. She has no family save the one she has made for herself here, and she cannot help thinking of those that don’t to her mind so swiftly. Halsin, who calls her little sister as he touches her, Armand, who is as close as any might come to kin, Matthew, who she would’ve called such. Even Marazhai who calls her cousin, who she enjoys burning with her hands.
She thinks of how it feels to share her heart and body and mind with them… Truly, ca she fault Aemond for tradition, for his desires, when she is so victim to it herself? It is his custom, and he smells pleased, looks content despite the sharp edge of blood and the bitterness of the consummation. How could she take such a joy from him? ]
I do not.
[ Shifting forward, leaning in, careful of her touch as ever, she strokes her fingertips against the sharp jut of his cheekbone. She sleeps now in lace gloves, protective enough that she can curl against Aemond’s body in her sleep, so that she can awaken with the heat of his skin against her own. She leans close and nudges her nose against his, an animal like show of affection. ]
It pleases you. You are happy, and you are spent. I would not take such pleasure from you, even if it did upset me. It would be cruel of me to deny your pleasures when I so easily take mine own.
She has no kin of her own left, to lie with or to hate, no real brother nor sister nor uncle. She has no family save the one she has made for herself here, and she cannot help thinking of those that don’t to her mind so swiftly. Halsin, who calls her little sister as he touches her, Armand, who is as close as any might come to kin, Matthew, who she would’ve called such. Even Marazhai who calls her cousin, who she enjoys burning with her hands.
She thinks of how it feels to share her heart and body and mind with them… Truly, ca she fault Aemond for tradition, for his desires, when she is so victim to it herself? It is his custom, and he smells pleased, looks content despite the sharp edge of blood and the bitterness of the consummation. How could she take such a joy from him? ]
I do not.
[ Shifting forward, leaning in, careful of her touch as ever, she strokes her fingertips against the sharp jut of his cheekbone. She sleeps now in lace gloves, protective enough that she can curl against Aemond’s body in her sleep, so that she can awaken with the heat of his skin against her own. She leans close and nudges her nose against his, an animal like show of affection. ]
It pleases you. You are happy, and you are spent. I would not take such pleasure from you, even if it did upset me. It would be cruel of me to deny your pleasures when I so easily take mine own.
You will tell me if it does, won't you? If there comes a time when my interests find a place with someone you greatly abhor, I bid you tell me. I want us to have an understanding in matters such as this.
[ these are matters of the heart as much as they are of the flesh. his loyalty to his family is a fire curling under the veins that pull his blood through his mortal body, but so does his innate greed fill in the gaps along the path. he is a covetous little thing, with wants that slither along his grasping fingers, scaled and sharp and hurtful to anyone unused to his nature.
dragons are not easy creatures. they do not settle peacefully, and they do not coil around the hearth like meek, soft-mouthed things. lauralae understands this. she has understood from that moment when they sat together on the exposed earth and read under a setting sun; she has understood from the moment aemond asked her to place her cursed hands on his skin.
it's only been months since then. not even a full turning of a year since his arrival, never mind that he's turned an age here that expects a child to mark its passing. it's been months, and now here she is, wearing his ring and giving him her permission, saying with her private phrases that she understands.
his blood calls to its own, aemond would never deny this. but his heart calls to her heart, too — isn't this what love is supposed to be?
even aegon the conqueror split his heart in half between fire and blood, in the end. ]
Perhaps one day we might share him in our bed, if you'll welcome it.
[ these are matters of the heart as much as they are of the flesh. his loyalty to his family is a fire curling under the veins that pull his blood through his mortal body, but so does his innate greed fill in the gaps along the path. he is a covetous little thing, with wants that slither along his grasping fingers, scaled and sharp and hurtful to anyone unused to his nature.
dragons are not easy creatures. they do not settle peacefully, and they do not coil around the hearth like meek, soft-mouthed things. lauralae understands this. she has understood from that moment when they sat together on the exposed earth and read under a setting sun; she has understood from the moment aemond asked her to place her cursed hands on his skin.
it's only been months since then. not even a full turning of a year since his arrival, never mind that he's turned an age here that expects a child to mark its passing. it's been months, and now here she is, wearing his ring and giving him her permission, saying with her private phrases that she understands.
his blood calls to its own, aemond would never deny this. but his heart calls to her heart, too — isn't this what love is supposed to be?
even aegon the conqueror split his heart in half between fire and blood, in the end. ]
Perhaps one day we might share him in our bed, if you'll welcome it.
Edited 2025-04-27 14:35 (UTC)
I will use my words with you, Aemond, if anything dissatisfies me.
[ The truth of the matter is this: there is little Aemond might do to displease her.
Are there people in this mansion she dislikes? She cannot think of one to name them, not at the moment. Instead, she can name only those she cares for, those that mean the most to her. Friends, kin, those that are the most dear to her heart - and perhaps she might be more sour, to share them with Aemond, but only for a short, selfish moment. She has not had to share in decades, had not been around anyone enough to care for them, so it would take her heart a moment to be calmed.
And now, she has Aemond, who is devoted to her in his own way, who understands her, accepts her, wants her, time and time again, and it makes her yearn. To see his smile, his joy, his happiness... How could she be anything but pleased to know him? How could she want anything but him, desire anything but him? Her heart is truly in his hands, and she has no better words for it.
Aemond is a dragon, and she has learned to temper them. She speaks their tongue, she knows their habits, she had studied them - could be one, if she desired. It is not so easy to say that she loves him, but her heart is so very captured, and she does not yearn to have it returned. She makes no demand of him, and in turn he on her. They know each other too well.
They are wild creatures. They are dragon and wolf, monster and monster, in the eyes of others. Together? They are loved. Is that not enough.
Lips curling, just a little, she steals a kiss from his mouth, warm and content. ]
Would you survive it, if he did?
[ The truth of the matter is this: there is little Aemond might do to displease her.
Are there people in this mansion she dislikes? She cannot think of one to name them, not at the moment. Instead, she can name only those she cares for, those that mean the most to her. Friends, kin, those that are the most dear to her heart - and perhaps she might be more sour, to share them with Aemond, but only for a short, selfish moment. She has not had to share in decades, had not been around anyone enough to care for them, so it would take her heart a moment to be calmed.
And now, she has Aemond, who is devoted to her in his own way, who understands her, accepts her, wants her, time and time again, and it makes her yearn. To see his smile, his joy, his happiness... How could she be anything but pleased to know him? How could she want anything but him, desire anything but him? Her heart is truly in his hands, and she has no better words for it.
Aemond is a dragon, and she has learned to temper them. She speaks their tongue, she knows their habits, she had studied them - could be one, if she desired. It is not so easy to say that she loves him, but her heart is so very captured, and she does not yearn to have it returned. She makes no demand of him, and in turn he on her. They know each other too well.
They are wild creatures. They are dragon and wolf, monster and monster, in the eyes of others. Together? They are loved. Is that not enough.
Lips curling, just a little, she steals a kiss from his mouth, warm and content. ]
Would you survive it, if he did?
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