[ Daemon's kisses still, breath hovering over her warm skin. She's caught him, in a way, and he pretends it doesn't. His mouth reapplies itself along her shoulder where it meant to land moments before. Does it bother him that she's right? Maybe a little, maybe it draws his lips into a reluctant before he remembers in the next breath the gravity hanging over them. ]
I suppose that leaves us with one option. [ Daemon's head lifts to throw her a look. Every spoiled princess runaway's dream. ] Go into town ourselves. [ Endangering her is one thing, but they both know she's safer with him than without. What's he going to do, dress her like a little page boy again? (That's exactly what he's going to do.) As his fingertips slip along her spine. ] Smoke our enemy out.
[ While clearly no shock that he does actually want to do it himself (Rhaenyra knows you, Daemon. Could anyone else on this side of the sea say the same?), Rhaenyra is surprised that he's including her in the plan, still used to being told to stay back and allow everyone else to handle such serious and dangerous matters.
"Our" enemy, like every wrong dealt to her is one dealt to them both.
A quick move on her part to roll him onto his back (though how much of it is him letting her versus any actual strength or athleticism on her end) while pushing herself up to sit astride his hips, leaned over with one fisted hand against his neck to mimic: ]
Hold the knife up to their necks, instead.
[ She is mostly being dramatic for effect; Rhaenyra doubts she would have the mettle to actually do such a thing, but this is her way of saying I'm in. ]
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ī𝔩𝔬𝔫 𝔷ā𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔥ē𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔯ī
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I suppose that leaves us with one option. [ Daemon's head lifts to throw her a look. Every spoiled princess runaway's dream. ] Go into town ourselves. [ Endangering her is one thing, but they both know she's safer with him than without. What's he going to do, dress her like a little page boy again? (That's exactly what he's going to do.) As his fingertips slip along her spine. ] Smoke our enemy out.
no subject
"Our" enemy, like every wrong dealt to her is one dealt to them both.
A quick move on her part to roll him onto his back (though how much of it is him letting her versus any actual strength or athleticism on her end) while pushing herself up to sit astride his hips, leaned over with one fisted hand against his neck to mimic: ]
Hold the knife up to their necks, instead.
[ She is mostly being dramatic for effect; Rhaenyra doubts she would have the mettle to actually do such a thing, but this is her way of saying I'm in. ]