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 donโt 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 wouldโve 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 themโฆ 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 Aemondโs 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.
no subject
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 donโt 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 wouldโve 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 themโฆ 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 Aemondโs 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.