song_of_ice | Duplicity Inbox

I'd rather it be in your bed and in your bath.

Can't be in both at once, silly wolf.

No, but we can be in one first and then the other.

No one's been in my bed.

Would you let me?

If you ask nicely.

That is the sort of question that should be done in person. May I come and see you?

I wonder why you're not here yet. Rude to keep a queen waiting.

I'll redraw the bath, zokla. Not too hot, this time.

I'll be sure to make amends.

[It took only a few minutes for him to reach her door, not bothering to wonder if she was alone or not. He had practically run to get to her, pushing past some random stranger on the stairs.

When finally he was at her door, he tried to get his breathing under control, not wanting to show how eager he was to see her again.]

[ She's in a linen robe, hair tied back and up, so as to avoid getting it wet. In the bathroom, the water's running. There's not a soul in her apartment tonight, save Drogon.

Upon Jon's knock, she doesn't open the door fully, but just enough for her to lean against the doorframe, blocking his entry. A faint smile dances on her lips. ]

Going to make amends, are you?

[She's the image of sensuality and he can feel his skin heat, as though he were already stepping into the scalding bath. He grinned at her bashfully, not sure where to begin. There was so much of her he intended to kiss, caress and tease. What would count as amends that he wasn't already planning?]

I'm a man of my word.

[He brushes his fingers against her cheek, longing for a moment of softness.]

[ Her smile's sweet in answer to his grin. Still, she doesn't move. Not until his fingers brush against her cheek, and then, she's lifting up to curl hers around his. He's got a boyish grin, so charming and disarming. It's no wonder other women flock to him. He's sunken his claws into her as well, and though the idea of him behaving this way with others chafes, she's pushing the comparisons aside and stepping back from the door, tugging him after her. ]

I didn't start the bubbles yet. [ She sounds excited. ] Come on.

[For all of his other friends and companions, there was nothing like this with anyone else. This attraction had been there from the beginning, when they met and later when they watched her dragons. Fighting seemed the easier response to realizing that something so deep and powerful was buried inside him, something that he thought died along with Ygritte.

It was what made the idea of her with other men, especially like this, so hard to swallow. He pushed it away, wanting her to himself without any sort of intrusion from the outside world.

He held firm to her hand as she tugged him inside, his smile only spreading.]

Is your tub big enough for two?

We'll see, won't we?

[ She's not considered if two could comfortably fit in it. No need to consider it before, after all, so why bother until this very second?

Her feet are bare. So are her legs, the edge of her robe not reaching past her knees. He's perfect view of the very same legs she'd texted him on their walk (brisk) to the bathroom. His hand's released only so she can shut the water off. ]

Not too hot? [ she asks him, slipping around him to open up a small box. ] Come smell these, tell me which you like most.

[He keeps trying to reach for her as she bustles around the bathroom, ready to skip ahead to having her back in his arms. But with a breathless laugh, he slipped his fingers into the water.]

I have been in hot springs. This isn't much different.

[It would be comfortable, though likely not to her taste. He was a man of the North, too much heat and he might thaw, though her gentleness had done enough of that already.

He approached, peering into the box. The smell was strong, aromas mixing together. Out of all of them, he could smell something that reminded him of roses. Gingerly, he lifted the bottle and held it out to her.]

It reminds me of the roses in the glass gardens.

You and your flower petals. Sure you're a Northern boy and not a Tyrell?

[ She takes the bottle, giving it a sniff. It is flowery. Not the sharp fruitiness of an orange, which she'd bathed in and which scent still lingers on her skin. Setting the bottle away, she opens another box which holds a number of strange orbs. Dusted and dull in color, some white, some brighter colors, some paler. A wide range. She lifts one that's a swirl of light pink and white, handing it to him. ]

Drop it in the water and watch. The moderns here call them 'bath bombs.'

I think the Tyrells know how to be more open than Northern men.

[He certainly had difficulty sharing his thoughts and feelings. All of it tended to be locked away behind a wall, much like it had been with Lord Stark. Their cold was unique in Westeros and it tended to permeate in their nature as well.

He turned the orb in his hands, at first expecting it to be used for...less clean means. There's a hint of a smile in his eyes as he drops the orb in the water, leaning over the side of the tub to watch.]

It's dissolving.

Lady Olenna is certainly an open woman. [ If one would call her sharp wit open. ] Might put you in your place, puppy.

[ She lightly bumps the back of her hand against his stomach as she steps beside him, looking into the clear water. The ball he'd dropped is spinning, a spiral of white bubbles circling in place, hissing all the while. Soon, a soft pink bleeds into it. The scent of roses wafts up from the heat. ]

Keep watching.

[ Bath bombs are an amazing creation. Who would have thought to create various scents that also change the color of the bath water? When the ball is half its size, a deeper red joins in the colorings. Actual rose petals. It doesn't create the bubbles she'd boasted of, but that's an easy fix that means she's pouring some of the bottle he'd chosen into the water by the faucet and turning the water back on. ]

I heard she is called the Queen of Thorns.

[Rumor and reputation preceded her and that was all he had to go on. His father never spoke about the people in King's Landing...or anything of the past. Much of what was shared was second hand knowledge from other bannermen or Uncle Benjen, when he came to visit.

He watched the colors swirl and change, fascinated by the way that seeped into the water, shifting and turning until it was like staring into the aurora borealis. He reached to wrap an arm around her waist, heady from the perfume of rose petals.]

Where did you learn this?

It's an apt descriptor. Rather a marvel to witness.

[ She's glad to have the woman as an ally, even if it's born from the yearning for vengeance. An understandable one, at that. Lannisters seem to have a proclivity for taking from the other Houses. ]

One of the merchants. I'd gone searching for bath oils and one had a demonstration in a large basin.

[ His arm is strong and sturdy around her waist, and she doesn't mind it there. Wrapped around her, keeping them close. She twists her fingers in his shirt, giving it a light tug. By now, the bubbles have grown significantly. ]

Off.

I wonder what she'd say about me.

[Sharp tongued people have never put him off. Those who spoke bluntly often spoke honestly. Lyanna Mormont provided that, and in a way, so much was easier with a woman who wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind. It made up for his continual struggle to know what to say.

Much like Daenerys as she tugged at his shirt. He didn't flinch this time, comfortable enough with the idea of her seeing his scars again. He grinned at her before shrugging it off, tossing it out of the bathroom and onto her bedroom floor.]

You as well.

That, I don't know. She doesn't seem to have a very high opinion of men in general.

[ She smiles back at him, eyes dipping lower to appreciate his chest and abdomen as she slips in front of him. No touching, though. Not yet. ]

You've much more to take off before we're even.

[ Even so, her fingers hover over the knot holding her robe in place. ]

[He toyed out of his boots, kicking them out the door as well. Beyond that, there were only his jeans and as he didn't wear anything under them, he was about as clothed as Dany.]

She was kind to Sansa. All of the Tyrells were.

[Though she hadn't said very much about what happened between them, only that they were some of the rare friends she made.]

Let me.

[He reached for the knot to her robe, wanting to pull it off himself, if only to get a glimpse of his mark again.]

[ Once he's kicked away his boots, she hazards a step closer, fingers tucking into the waist of his pants. ...leaving the knot of her robe for him to handle.

It's in that sudden moment that simplicity of merely sharing a space turns into that familiar lust for him. Her mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of slipping his pants down his hips, revealing her own mark on him. And her cunt begins to ache at the though of him beneath her in the tub, his cock slipping into her with practiced ease. How to tell him of that? It's a sudden need for him to know. He'd questioned whether she shared this with others, and she hasn't. She wants him to know that, as well. ]

Wait.

[ This is new territory for her. It leaves her pulse skittering as she draws him over to the sink, her hands on the ledge of it, facing the mirror, him behind her. There's a huge sense of unease which comes with ever having a man behind her like this, but she pushes past it, holding his eye in the mirror. She guides his hand beneath the part of her robe, pressing his palm flat against her abdomen. The heat of him has her breath skittering past her lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as she keeps a careful eye on his face.

And lower she'll guide his hand, until their fingers are curving around her pelvis, and he'll feel for himself the heat of her cunt, how her slit is already wet for him. ]

Do you recall what you'd asked me earlier?

[His hand stills at her direction. He could smell the lingering hint of her in the air, sweet and faint against his nose. Mixed with roses, it was a smell that he could lose himself in. Gods help whoever else might have this. She was his and he was hers.

Slowly, she lead him towards the sink, turning her back to him. Without knowing the particulars of her history, it was clear from the look on her face that this was a large concession for her. He would never admit that he had the fantasy of taking her this way, maybe in public, secreted a way in the corner as they struggled to remain quiet. But it remained in his thoughts, unspoken and unasked.

This was deeper, a stronger bond than anything they shared before. His eyes held her, his heart thudding in his chest as he followed her guidance. Fingers brushed against her belly, moving lower until they were between her legs. He gave her a look of understanding, seeking permission once more before he began to lightly tease her. Her body yielding against him.

Every touch was reverent, trying to show her that she could trust him in this moment, his heart swelling.]

Yes.

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