for Genya Safin (safine)
Apr. 30th, 2023 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
firstbornstormBoth Tycho and Irran had been giving him no end of shit over his "obsession" with the "White Ravkan Witch". The last time they'd started, it had ended in a brawl, with Daemon taking on both of them, and leaving both of his friends soundly trounced in the dirt, to the others' absolute amusement. And even though he sported his own black eye, a wicked cut on one cheek, several bruised ribs, and walked with a limp for the next fortnight, neither the Bravosi or the Ghiscari had breathed another word about her.
Robert had already left for the Ravkan capital, thus Daemon and his companions were hard-pressed to catch up with the King of Westeros, but not for nothing were all of them excellent horseman, and besides, Daemon had a meeting. He'd asked his "Ravkan Witch" to meet him in the village outside of the palace, and she'd agreed. Two hours, and she'd given him precise directions. And he'd be there.
And the Baratheon Prince and his entourage rode into the village not a scant half hour before he was to meet her, their horses stamping and lathered, but still strong. Daemon had memorized Genya's directions, not needing the parchment to guide him as he dismounted and handed his reins to Agga. The others took themselves off, the local bar their destination; they knew their Prince would be blind and deaf to all else for the rest of the afternoon.
Still dusty from the road, and wearing his battle leathers and weapons (customary, when traveling these days), Daemon made his way to Genya's specific meeting place, pausing just before arriving to take a deep breath, steady his nerves, and, after a moment of realization, brush off what dirt he could. He was a Prince. The least she deserved was a bedraggled ruffian barging in like an uneducated barbarian.
Robert had already left for the Ravkan capital, thus Daemon and his companions were hard-pressed to catch up with the King of Westeros, but not for nothing were all of them excellent horseman, and besides, Daemon had a meeting. He'd asked his "Ravkan Witch" to meet him in the village outside of the palace, and she'd agreed. Two hours, and she'd given him precise directions. And he'd be there.
And the Baratheon Prince and his entourage rode into the village not a scant half hour before he was to meet her, their horses stamping and lathered, but still strong. Daemon had memorized Genya's directions, not needing the parchment to guide him as he dismounted and handed his reins to Agga. The others took themselves off, the local bar their destination; they knew their Prince would be blind and deaf to all else for the rest of the afternoon.
Still dusty from the road, and wearing his battle leathers and weapons (customary, when traveling these days), Daemon made his way to Genya's specific meeting place, pausing just before arriving to take a deep breath, steady his nerves, and, after a moment of realization, brush off what dirt he could. He was a Prince. The least she deserved was a bedraggled ruffian barging in like an uneducated barbarian.
sorry for the delay!
Date: 2023-05-13 06:14 pm (UTC)She moved with his careful, urging touch, her back arching as her hips tilted forward, pressing more firmly against his as a quiet little gasp broke the trembling silence that felt like it was making the air thicker by the second.
"What exactly am I supposed to be letting you do?"
It's a bit of self-defence, really, teasing him about his unfinished sentence. She is feeling raw, and exposed, and she doesn't have any good experiences of this kind of situation. All she's known is fear, hatred and humiliation.