[ Amid the struggle of Rhaenyra's attacker attempts to subdue her, lets out a cry that is quickly muffled. She is released, clumsily shoved back towards the inner depths of her chambers as the man is wrenched deeper into the inky dark. All too quickly a scuffle and a loud snap rings out and a body crumples back into the light. A man in servants clothes, writhes across stone cradling his arm — bone snapped leaving his hand dangling sickly half way down from his elbow.
Daemon emerges from the shadow shortly after him. He coolly steps forward, around scrambling legs as their assailant tries to put a foot of distance between them. It becomes apparent that Daemon holds a long kris dagger in one hand, not one of his own. This one he had plucked off their unwelcome guest, one who is terrified to be receiving it back.
Something was off when he'd knocked. The latch to the door off kilter gave way under his polite introduction. Shadows lift from Daemon's face, a fixed cold as he looms over their guest-assassin. One step and another, slow and predatory. Uncertain to whether the best course is to kill him as swiftly as he came or let him suffer for whatever he was about to attempt on his niece. Or fuck it, drag him outside by his cock and let the dragons in the dunes feed on him living. He's not picky.]
You alright?
[ He does not look to her when he asks. Another step to where he straddles the air above the other man. Turning the dagger in his palm as his chin tucks further down to keep looking him in the eye. He doesn't need her permission, per se. But he does wait for her word. ]
doing gr8
Daemon emerges from the shadow shortly after him. He coolly steps forward, around scrambling legs as their assailant tries to put a foot of distance between them. It becomes apparent that Daemon holds a long kris dagger in one hand, not one of his own. This one he had plucked off their unwelcome guest, one who is terrified to be receiving it back.
Something was off when he'd knocked. The latch to the door off kilter gave way under his polite introduction. Shadows lift from Daemon's face, a fixed cold as he looms over their guest-assassin. One step and another, slow and predatory. Uncertain to whether the best course is to kill him as swiftly as he came or let him suffer for whatever he was about to attempt on his niece. Or fuck it, drag him outside by his cock and let the dragons in the dunes feed on him living. He's not picky.]
You alright?
[ He does not look to her when he asks. Another step to where he straddles the air above the other man. Turning the dagger in his palm as his chin tucks further down to keep looking him in the eye. He doesn't need her permission, per se. But he does wait for her word. ]