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LAURALAE

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[rakta]

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.

[provoke]

[ 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. ]

[rakta]

[ 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.