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song_of_ice) wrote2018-09-23 04:53 pm
song_of_ice) wrote2018-09-23 04:53 pm
Duplicity Inbox
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Dominant
Highrise #45
@zokla
[ text ❄️ audio ❄️ video ❄️ action ]
Dominant
Highrise #45
@zokla
The cruise leaves her exhausted--not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, as well. Arguments, anger, the things she'd done once again. She was becoming more like a whore whenever the rulers of this world bade it, and that rankled. A queen chose her lovers, and whilst she had no intention of chaining herself down to one man again, this was verging on too much... and far too many.
Unlike Tumenalia, she isn't alone in her apartment. It's a pleasant change, and the dance between she and Clark is comfortable enough to remind her of her people. Yet it still makes her miss her people desperately. The banter, their faith in her, familiar mannerisms. It's on one of these days where that homesickness grows to be too much that she leaves her apartment to explore the city. The floors outside her elevator remain burnt and unfixed, but she's learned to ignore it now as she await the metal cage.
What she doesn't anticipate is another to be inside when the doors slide open. For a moment, she stands there, blankly looking at Jon. Then she's internally cursing, debating spinning around and foregoing this plan. And then--as the doors threaten to slide shut, she sighs and steps inside.
"Well met, wolf."
Unlike Tumenalia, she isn't alone in her apartment. It's a pleasant change, and the dance between she and Clark is comfortable enough to remind her of her people. Yet it still makes her miss her people desperately. The banter, their faith in her, familiar mannerisms. It's on one of these days where that homesickness grows to be too much that she leaves her apartment to explore the city. The floors outside her elevator remain burnt and unfixed, but she's learned to ignore it now as she await the metal cage.
What she doesn't anticipate is another to be inside when the doors slide open. For a moment, she stands there, blankly looking at Jon. Then she's internally cursing, debating spinning around and foregoing this plan. And then--as the doors threaten to slide shut, she sighs and steps inside.
"Well met, wolf."
He has had time to sort everything in his head, but he still hadn't managed to do so. The events of the cruise had left him shifting between jealousy, rage and awe. It came in such rapid succession that it seemed like there were warring voices in his head, all of them with conflicting opinions about the woman who had stepped into the elevator.
Out of the ridiculous costume and back on familiar ground, he at least felt closer to himself than that night on the ship. It was likely aided by the presence of Anya, someone he hadn't expected to find but needed to push away the silence and cold of his apartment. Both Dany and Jon had done what they needed it seemed, though he was in no great hurry to tell her or to find out if she had formed a contract with Clark.
He isn't even certain how to greet her. Instead, he keeps his eyes fixed on the numbers lighting up in succession. They weren't any nearer to the ground and this would be an awkward descent filled with uncomfortable silence.
"Your grace."
Out of the ridiculous costume and back on familiar ground, he at least felt closer to himself than that night on the ship. It was likely aided by the presence of Anya, someone he hadn't expected to find but needed to push away the silence and cold of his apartment. Both Dany and Jon had done what they needed it seemed, though he was in no great hurry to tell her or to find out if she had formed a contract with Clark.
He isn't even certain how to greet her. Instead, he keeps his eyes fixed on the numbers lighting up in succession. They weren't any nearer to the ground and this would be an awkward descent filled with uncomfortable silence.
"Your grace."
[It doesn't take long before a note is sent back.]
Sorry to disappoint. I went for a drink. I thought I heard a woman with you though. You must have more luck than me.
Sorry to disappoint. I went for a drink. I thought I heard a woman with you though. You must have more luck than me.
Her avoidance of Jon Snow isn't an act of cowardice in the days which follow the Elevator Incident, as she's resorted to calling it. At some points, she's actually busy. At others, she's left staring out her flat's window which overlooks the Up, lost in thought. She doesn't sleep very much. Her mind won't stop.
It's resulted in a number of nightly forays into the city below, hapless wandering in a bid to get out of her own head. And yet... each and every time she returns to the Highrise, the promise of respite within reach, it comes crashing back. Ignoring that conversation lasts for three days. Brooding lasts for another four. It's on the eighth day that her resolve weakens enough for her to consider what he'd said.
It's by the thirteenth day, as she's in the bath and realizes the bruise on her breast is nearly faded that she abruptly sits up, heart hammering in her throat. She's been miserable for nearly two weeks, trying to hide that by keeping busy, and it's done nothing. No hint of Jon because of her carefulness is a lonely thing. No gentle eyes. No annoying arguments.
She misses him. That restlessness... it's not because he makes her nervous: it's because she's scared. Of him and for him and for her, most of all, because feelings makes these things far more complicated than they should ever be.
She's quick to dry herself off, unpinning her hair which falls down around her in a cascade of silver ringlets. The red and black nightgown she favors as of late is paired with a thin, shifty robe. Enough to keep herself decent should she run into anyone on the stairwell.
...Which she regrets, over twenty floors later. By the time she's knocking on his door (this is his door, isn't it?), she's gasping for breath, nearly doubled over because of it.
It's resulted in a number of nightly forays into the city below, hapless wandering in a bid to get out of her own head. And yet... each and every time she returns to the Highrise, the promise of respite within reach, it comes crashing back. Ignoring that conversation lasts for three days. Brooding lasts for another four. It's on the eighth day that her resolve weakens enough for her to consider what he'd said.
It's by the thirteenth day, as she's in the bath and realizes the bruise on her breast is nearly faded that she abruptly sits up, heart hammering in her throat. She's been miserable for nearly two weeks, trying to hide that by keeping busy, and it's done nothing. No hint of Jon because of her carefulness is a lonely thing. No gentle eyes. No annoying arguments.
She misses him. That restlessness... it's not because he makes her nervous: it's because she's scared. Of him and for him and for her, most of all, because feelings makes these things far more complicated than they should ever be.
She's quick to dry herself off, unpinning her hair which falls down around her in a cascade of silver ringlets. The red and black nightgown she favors as of late is paired with a thin, shifty robe. Enough to keep herself decent should she run into anyone on the stairwell.
...Which she regrets, over twenty floors later. By the time she's knocking on his door (this is his door, isn't it?), she's gasping for breath, nearly doubled over because of it.
He had kept his space from her, well aware that he had laid a great deal on her shoulders. Not only thoughts of battle, but the promise of something else, something that could be far more dangerous.
There are other ways to occupy himself, not only in work but with the city as a whole. He does what he needs to, visits those he formed a bond with in whatever form it came. But there is a chill in his heart, frosted over from that day and not yet thawed. While his hand had healed for the most part and no longer caused problems if he clenched his hand, he kept the stitching in place. It was a link, a reminder of what passed between them, even if the days grew longer and there was still no sign of her.
He had only come from the bath himself, his hair down and still in wet ringlets. Ghost was near the door, nosing at the handle when the knock came. It wasn't his floormate. Ghost didn't care very much for Cesare Borgia and, of late, Jon was uneasy with him as well. But it was likely something important, so with a quiet huff of disapproval, he opened the door, towel still ringing out his hair.
Surprise comes at him at waves, first marveling that she's in front of him. Next for what she was wearing (or not wearing) and third that she had come at all. He says nothing, gaping as he steps to the side to let her in.
There are other ways to occupy himself, not only in work but with the city as a whole. He does what he needs to, visits those he formed a bond with in whatever form it came. But there is a chill in his heart, frosted over from that day and not yet thawed. While his hand had healed for the most part and no longer caused problems if he clenched his hand, he kept the stitching in place. It was a link, a reminder of what passed between them, even if the days grew longer and there was still no sign of her.
He had only come from the bath himself, his hair down and still in wet ringlets. Ghost was near the door, nosing at the handle when the knock came. It wasn't his floormate. Ghost didn't care very much for Cesare Borgia and, of late, Jon was uneasy with him as well. But it was likely something important, so with a quiet huff of disapproval, he opened the door, towel still ringing out his hair.
Surprise comes at him at waves, first marveling that she's in front of him. Next for what she was wearing (or not wearing) and third that she had come at all. He says nothing, gaping as he steps to the side to let her in.
[ He doesn't receive a greeting from her. Not of any words, but he will receive a picture, late one night.
image1.png ]
image1.png ]
[She has a tendency to toy with him, he's noticed. Looking for all the ways to arouse him.]
Do you need someone to wash your back?
Do you need someone to wash your back?
[She should know better.
But she doesn’t. Lucy is a bit naive that way, and even here she knows that she should be mannered enough to say the words to his face. So she gets dressed - the first new outfit she got here, finally sponsored to buy things - and heads to where she found out that Jon Snow lives.
She knocks on his door, careful and looking sweet as can be.]
Hello, sir.
But she doesn’t. Lucy is a bit naive that way, and even here she knows that she should be mannered enough to say the words to his face. So she gets dressed - the first new outfit she got here, finally sponsored to buy things - and heads to where she found out that Jon Snow lives.
She knocks on his door, careful and looking sweet as can be.]
Hello, sir.
[There are a number of thoughts that pass through his head as he looks at Lucy. The mix of jealousy and hurt being more prevalent. While she hadn't intended to, he had been left with the impression that her feelings for him were small. There was a man she desired that she considered a contract with and it wasn't him.
But he wouldn't shut her out. He stepped aside, opening the door wide for her. Ghost was still in Jon's room, asleep on the bed. He hadn't been disturbed by Lucy's presence, enough of an indication that she wasn't a threat (not that he thought that.)]
You look more settled
But he wouldn't shut her out. He stepped aside, opening the door wide for her. Ghost was still in Jon's room, asleep on the bed. He hadn't been disturbed by Lucy's presence, enough of an indication that she wasn't a threat (not that he thought that.)]
You look more settled
[She has managed to solve so many of her problems the past few days, and her feed has gone down. This has made Lucy pleased, but more than that, it's made her brave
Sneaking into Jon's apartment wasn't hard. Lucy has been sneaking in and out of places her whole life, finding secret corridors and crawling through windows. She sees Ghost, who comes out of the bedroom a moment later, and she presses her finger to her mouth, and Ghost comes over to press his massive head to her hands, and she reaches into a pocket and gives him a piece of cheese. He accepts the bribe and goes over to the couch, and Lucy peeks into Jon's room.
There's no one there besides Jon, who is well and truly asleep. She takes her cloak off, and she's only wearing her chemise when she slips into the bed with him. His trousers are on his hip with a drawstring, so she slips her hand into his trousers, his cock in her hand.]
Wake up, your majesty.
Sneaking into Jon's apartment wasn't hard. Lucy has been sneaking in and out of places her whole life, finding secret corridors and crawling through windows. She sees Ghost, who comes out of the bedroom a moment later, and she presses her finger to her mouth, and Ghost comes over to press his massive head to her hands, and she reaches into a pocket and gives him a piece of cheese. He accepts the bribe and goes over to the couch, and Lucy peeks into Jon's room.
There's no one there besides Jon, who is well and truly asleep. She takes her cloak off, and she's only wearing her chemise when she slips into the bed with him. His trousers are on his hip with a drawstring, so she slips her hand into his trousers, his cock in her hand.]
Wake up, your majesty.
[He felt the shift of weight as Ghost got up from the bed, not uncommon during the night when he would sense something in the hall or simply want to be on his own. It was only when that weight returned that he started to stir a little. It was uncommon for Ghost to come and go suddenly unless something was wrong.
There was a hint of perfume, soft and gentle like some of the women he had come to know in this world. He was bare chested beneath the sheets, his scars would be obvious, even in the dark room. He feels the shift of clothing but before he fully wakes, a warm hand encircles his cock, already hardening under Lucy's attention.
He blinks, his eyes struggling to focus in the darkness. Brown hair and sweet smile clue him into who is at his side, but strangely, he never thought she'd be capable of it.]
Lucy?
There was a hint of perfume, soft and gentle like some of the women he had come to know in this world. He was bare chested beneath the sheets, his scars would be obvious, even in the dark room. He feels the shift of clothing but before he fully wakes, a warm hand encircles his cock, already hardening under Lucy's attention.
He blinks, his eyes struggling to focus in the darkness. Brown hair and sweet smile clue him into who is at his side, but strangely, he never thought she'd be capable of it.]
Lucy?
[A thick pair of gloves, lined with warm wool, and a black cabled scarf. Once the scarf is opened there's a pin, a small silver wolf, designed to be hidden under a collar. Also a bag of bones, for Ghost.]
There comes a knock on Jon's door early one evening. Dany stands outside, wearing her Meereenese dress, holding an obscenely pink, rectangular box. There's a ribbon holding it shut, green and red. Christmas colors, she'd been told. And tied to that ribbon is a little slip of paper, one side of it has what the locals call a snowman; he's a top hat on. The other side says: Merry Christmas, Jon. -Dany
When he opens the door, she meets his gaze and smiles, offering him the box. Inside it, he'll notice a white wolf shaped cupcake. And beside it, a small cup filled with whipped cream.
"They told me dogs like cream," she'll say, "Wasn't sure if that's the same for direwolves."
When he opens the door, she meets his gaze and smiles, offering him the box. Inside it, he'll notice a white wolf shaped cupcake. And beside it, a small cup filled with whipped cream.
"They told me dogs like cream," she'll say, "Wasn't sure if that's the same for direwolves."
"You made Ghost one?" He could barely focus, his mind distracted by her dress, thoughts torn between wondering if she was cold and uncomfortable in this weather and admiring her form barely concealed by the fabric. Breasts and hips more than enough to wipe his mind of everything but her.
It wasn't lost on him though that she adopted a foreign holiday, one that he still wasn't certain he understood. But perhaps he should have. She thought to bring him a gift and he hadn't done the same for her. It was shameful.
It wasn't lost on him though that she adopted a foreign holiday, one that he still wasn't certain he understood. But perhaps he should have. She thought to bring him a gift and he hadn't done the same for her. It was shameful.
why do i feel like this is going to turn into food sex lmao
dorzalta
- 2019-01-06 03:20 (UTC) - Expandbecause Jon and Dany have to try every kink available?
song_of_ice
- 2019-01-06 15:47 (UTC) - ExpandI know, you can't resist. Now lock the door and take out your cock for me, or I'll be wearing less in the next one.
I-
[He's half tempted to obey. He thought she was beautiful when they met, but this was a side of her he didn't expect to see.]
This wasn't meant for me, was it?
[He's half tempted to obey. He thought she was beautiful when they met, but this was a side of her he didn't expect to see.]
This wasn't meant for me, was it?
[He wishes this was for him, but he knows it's for another man. That's the most painful thing to come out of all of this.]
The device is misfiring. I think this was meant for Wes.
[He kicks himself, but he can't hold back with his thoughts.]
It's nice. More than nice.
The device is misfiring. I think this was meant for Wes.
[He kicks himself, but he can't hold back with his thoughts.]
It's nice. More than nice.
[His device will ding with a picture of someone he's never actually met, but she's laid out on a very luxurious couch, gold embroidered with too stuffed pillows sitting around her. Her gold hair is down, and she's sitting comfortably like she's posing for something.
Only she is completely naked, legs just slightly parted though never enough to be graphic. Blonde curls are just over her breasts like a curtain that has just a sneaking bit of pink from her nipples poking out.]
Only she is completely naked, legs just slightly parted though never enough to be graphic. Blonde curls are just over her breasts like a curtain that has just a sneaking bit of pink from her nipples poking out.]
[With the number of misfired texts and pictures, it wouldn't surprise him to know that this was not intentionally sent to him...but gods, he's praying that's not the case now.
She's so beautiful, she's almost ethereal. He would never admit that he had to sneak away to his room and relieve himself of the tension this image created. When finished, he finally sighed and forced himself to alert her to the possible problem.]
I don't know if you meant to send this to me, sweetling. I hope you did and will let me keep it.
She's so beautiful, she's almost ethereal. He would never admit that he had to sneak away to his room and relieve himself of the tension this image created. When finished, he finally sighed and forced himself to alert her to the possible problem.]
I don't know if you meant to send this to me, sweetling. I hope you did and will let me keep it.
[He knows there have been a number of misfires across the city, but somehow this feels personal. A dig, even unintentional. The city wants to fuck with him and drive him mad.
He takes a moment to calm down before he finally answers the text.]
You should keep these pictures more secure. They are being sent out now.
[Pot, meet kettle.]
He takes a moment to calm down before he finally answers the text.]
You should keep these pictures more secure. They are being sent out now.
[Pot, meet kettle.]
[ The event had been odd- Christine herself still wasn't sure about how she felt about all of it. Regardless, it was late (or early?) and all she wanted was to be back at the apartment and relax.
She made sure to step lightly as she made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water, unsure if Jon was home or asleep- but not wanting to chance waking him if he was. ]
She made sure to step lightly as she made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water, unsure if Jon was home or asleep- but not wanting to chance waking him if he was. ]
[Cesare's goading had left his mark on him and left him far more grim than usual, anger pulsating through him. Whatever buzz he had before is gone and after the messages he sent to Lucrezia, it didn't seem likely he would sleep.
It was still surreal to have someone else in the house or walking in the door. When Christine came in, he looked over at her with surprise before remembering the arrangement. He tried to give her a smile before giving up and returning to his brooding.]
It was still surreal to have someone else in the house or walking in the door. When Christine came in, he looked over at her with surprise before remembering the arrangement. He tried to give her a smile before giving up and returning to his brooding.]
[He'll just wait a bit before answering Cesare, nonplussed and emotionally drained.]
You're blaming me for her anger at you?
You're blaming me for her anger at you?
I would. Where do you want to meet?
[Because he needs to get out of the house.]
[Because he needs to get out of the house.]
You presume to tell me what to do with my sister? I've known my duty to her since she arrived at Castle Black.
Given your own history with me, you'd do better to stay out of my business with Sansa.
Given your own history with me, you'd do better to stay out of my business with Sansa.
Why?
What makes you think I'm in the giving mood?
What makes you think I'm in the giving mood?
Hi Jon,
I know this is out of the blue, but Wynonna said you work at 13th Step and we wanted to include you. We’re throwing a surprise birthday party for Waverly, and we’re hoping you're available. Attached is your official invite with all the details. Let me know if you have any questions.
invite.jpg
I know this is out of the blue, but Wynonna said you work at 13th Step and we wanted to include you. We’re throwing a surprise birthday party for Waverly, and we’re hoping you're available. Attached is your official invite with all the details. Let me know if you have any questions.
invite.jpg
If you are searching for Sansa, why send me a message? Why should I answer on her behalf?
She heard of it that night. Eid you forget that?
[ Duplicity is not a kind place, and Dany hasn't settled in particularly well. She feels she can always come to Jon, in spite of some of their more difficult to bear circumstances.
It may be an imposition to continue asking him for clarity in areas she's simply uncertain about, but... ] Have you, or maybe another you've known, been put through scenarios to prompt you into cooperating with playing the role of being a Dominant? I'm simply wondering how long they've been doing so to people. [ She's at her wits end, and fuck this place, basically. ]
It may be an imposition to continue asking him for clarity in areas she's simply uncertain about, but... ] Have you, or maybe another you've known, been put through scenarios to prompt you into cooperating with playing the role of being a Dominant? I'm simply wondering how long they've been doing so to people. [ She's at her wits end, and fuck this place, basically. ]
[It's never an imposition with Dany. No matter how complicated this life is for them, she would always be a priority.]
There was a fort we were held at for a time. They forced us to play our roles and killed some men to keep us in line. The Creator's rules are to degrade us. I still remember being punished and imprisoned for refusing to feed my submissive as if she were my dog.
[The most important question and the one that makes his vision blur and a hear a ringing in his ears.]
What did they do to you?
There was a fort we were held at for a time. They forced us to play our roles and killed some men to keep us in line. The Creator's rules are to degrade us. I still remember being punished and imprisoned for refusing to feed my submissive as if she were my dog.
[The most important question and the one that makes his vision blur and a hear a ringing in his ears.]
What did they do to you?
[ Nicer accommodations in the Up provide little comfort when one is thrown in jail. She knows she's been stubborn, but she's also spoken out a great deal against the powers that rule in Duplicity. She may have been more on their radar because of the latter; or, maybe, she really did wait too long. This is a punishment and even as it envelopes her, Dany's pride rises up.
Arrest a possibility, she'd been so sure she could make it stop. Certainly if she said the right set of phrases to the officers who arrested her. If not while then then she must be able to persuade them once she's gone into the jail. It's once she's staring out, in disbelief, past a prison's walls that resignation starts to creep in.
She can leave once someone comes there to sign a contract with her. The absurd notion leaves her baffled: how is she supposed to develop a relationship from behind bars to create such a quick partnership, when she can think of so few people who may even be interested? Keeping so much to herself comes back to bite her. So does her ego, stubborn pride swelling up. She sits, waits, speaks out whenever a guard is near enough to listen. Nothing. They will give her nothing, no mercy or even the time of day. Hours pass, over half a day. She wants to rest, to sleep in the bed that's become her own.
Laying down in the smaller bed in the cell, she turns to stare at the wall. The pressure of being forced to adapt when she's not fully prepared starts to fully cloud over her. She'd been told that she could send private messages from her communication device, though her fingers don't find typing on the phone very easy at all. She's full of disdain and desperation as the hours draw toward early morning.
She promised she wouldn't stop herself from reaching out to Jon, when she felt as though she needed him. She hates that this has happened and regrets the pressure her lack of submission could now put on a man she loves. Her energy starts to dip as she rests there with the phone near her cheek, eyes drooping a few times.
Tired and annoyed, she finally starts to type. And, she chooses to be blunt. ]
I've been put into a prison until someone comes here to sign a contract with me. I'd been trying, but it wasn't enough. [ And now she's not sure what to do. ] I didn't know who else to send a message too...
[ The guards have neglected to tell her that she can send a post to the network, too... inevitably, she'll realize she's able to. But for not, she texts only Jon... ]
Arrest a possibility, she'd been so sure she could make it stop. Certainly if she said the right set of phrases to the officers who arrested her. If not while then then she must be able to persuade them once she's gone into the jail. It's once she's staring out, in disbelief, past a prison's walls that resignation starts to creep in.
She can leave once someone comes there to sign a contract with her. The absurd notion leaves her baffled: how is she supposed to develop a relationship from behind bars to create such a quick partnership, when she can think of so few people who may even be interested? Keeping so much to herself comes back to bite her. So does her ego, stubborn pride swelling up. She sits, waits, speaks out whenever a guard is near enough to listen. Nothing. They will give her nothing, no mercy or even the time of day. Hours pass, over half a day. She wants to rest, to sleep in the bed that's become her own.
Laying down in the smaller bed in the cell, she turns to stare at the wall. The pressure of being forced to adapt when she's not fully prepared starts to fully cloud over her. She'd been told that she could send private messages from her communication device, though her fingers don't find typing on the phone very easy at all. She's full of disdain and desperation as the hours draw toward early morning.
She promised she wouldn't stop herself from reaching out to Jon, when she felt as though she needed him. She hates that this has happened and regrets the pressure her lack of submission could now put on a man she loves. Her energy starts to dip as she rests there with the phone near her cheek, eyes drooping a few times.
Tired and annoyed, she finally starts to type. And, she chooses to be blunt. ]
I've been put into a prison until someone comes here to sign a contract with me. I'd been trying, but it wasn't enough. [ And now she's not sure what to do. ] I didn't know who else to send a message too...
[ The guards have neglected to tell her that she can send a post to the network, too... inevitably, she'll realize she's able to. But for not, she texts only Jon... ]
[It takes him time to respond, pure rage and fear dueling in his mind as he pictured Daenerys in her cell, forced to endure the indignity and humiliation that the city thought she deserved. It wasn't LUST and it wasn't the zoo, but it was still a dark punishment in his mind, one that left him trembling, uncertain he could stop unless he tore every brick from the prison and pulled Daenerys free from the rubble.
He had hoped to avoid this when he advised her to find someone to contract with, but he had never bothered to ask her if the matter was done, not wanting to know who she'd bring into her life. The jealousy was too much for him and because he hadn't fought it, she was now forced into this position, chained and imprisoned again...just as she told him she suffered before.]
Who do you know in the City that is a submissive? Anyone? [He didn't know if she would be allowed visitors, but he was going to head towards the prison anyway.] You need to make a public message asking for contracts. If you don't know anyone, it might be your only way to find someone.
Have they treated you well?
He had hoped to avoid this when he advised her to find someone to contract with, but he had never bothered to ask her if the matter was done, not wanting to know who she'd bring into her life. The jealousy was too much for him and because he hadn't fought it, she was now forced into this position, chained and imprisoned again...just as she told him she suffered before.]
Who do you know in the City that is a submissive? Anyone? [He didn't know if she would be allowed visitors, but he was going to head towards the prison anyway.] You need to make a public message asking for contracts. If you don't know anyone, it might be your only way to find someone.
Have they treated you well?
[when Jon returns home, he finds a very languid and self-satisfied looking Margaery Tyrell lounged artfully against his door]
Hello, Jon Snow. I think it high time we got to know one another.
Hello, Jon Snow. I think it high time we got to know one another.
Edited 2019-12-10 04:45 (UTC)
[They had talked briefly, but he never thought she would appear at his door (or manage to track him down.) From the little he knew of Margaery from Sansa, it seemed entirely in her character. This would be the sort of woman who could expertly handle the Lannisters and much of the city with her elegant hands.]
No one else is home now, if you want to come in?
No one else is home now, if you want to come in?
[She finds her way there, to where he gave her the address, and she is there before he is. She has a bowl of cherries, and she's sitting cross-legged on the bed, the cherries in her lap, her skirts surrounding her.
All in all, she looks very pretty. Even with her delicate, flowered collar on.
She looks up when he comes in, and she flushes.]
Before you say a word, I should tell you, I stabbed Cesere Borgia last summer, and was roundly punished for it.
All in all, she looks very pretty. Even with her delicate, flowered collar on.
She looks up when he comes in, and she flushes.]
Before you say a word, I should tell you, I stabbed Cesere Borgia last summer, and was roundly punished for it.
[She couldn't have said anything more perfect. It earns a smile from him and a soft huff of laughter. He was glad to see her even without that, but she's managed to warm him completely now.
He took a seat by her, taking a cherry for himself as well.]
What did he do? [And the more important question:] Punished by who?
He took a seat by her, taking a cherry for himself as well.]
What did he do? [And the more important question:] Punished by who?
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