#daezprumia

@daezprumia​ said:   ❛ i never realized how much i needed you until you were the one person who wasn’t there. ❜ 

░▒▌╳▐ ᴠ ᴀ ᴇ ᴅ ᴀ ʀ

        𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 his heart feel heavier, even though it had been close to soaring just moments ago. Rhaella lay on her front, the sheets half covering her NUDE lower half with the dragonlord beside her. Fingers trailed a path right over the ridges of her spine, the touch both SENSUAL as it was tender. Vaedar would rather not think about their first meeting, how repressed she was, with SORROW written all over her features for those who know how to look. The knights who were supposed to PROTECT her only glanced to their Queen with pity, and more oft than not, the valyrian has needed to suppress the urge to demand that they do something. But it's not their fault that she is suffering. No, the only to blame is her own brother and husband. Were he not King, the Valarys would surely take PLEASURE in seeing that he's properly punished for the treatment of his sister.

@daezprumia ( as discussed )

Soft notes of music drift down the halls, muffled by the thick stone walls and the delicate giggles of his love as he backs her gently against the wall, lips seeking hers right there in the shadows.

Rarely do they find a moment to steal away, and yet the guests at the King's nameday gathering are too far in their cups to notice the pair slip from the halls. Tyland doubts they would notice should he and Rhaella never return to the hall.

"You look radiant tonight, my love..."

Words are whispered between kisses as hands wander over the silken gown that so cruelly hides her form from him.

Closed Starter || @daezprumia​

░▒▌╳▐ ᴇ ʟ ɪ ᴀ

        𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 has been simultaneously a blessing as much as a form of torment. A test of sorts, to her ENDURANCE. Elia has fulfilled her part as wife and princess with courage, UNDAUNTED by the challenges imposed. She must do so not only for herself nor her newborn babe but for her family in Dorne. Once her husband ascends the throne, she will become the second Martell princess to rule beside a Targaryen as QUEEN, strengthening the bonds between the two Houses. But whenever she looks to the current Queen, she's fraught to think of her own future in that position. Their circumstances are DIFFERENT, Elia so reminds herself. King Aerys is a troubled man, to put it kindly, but his son is blessedly unlike his royal father thus far. Rhaegar has treated her with the utmost respect ever since they first met, and the princess knows that this is all thanks to his mother.

        ❝ My Queen, ❞ The Martell curtsies when Rhaella walks into the nursery, ignoring the dull ache that doing so causes. They were only able to travel to King's Landing from Dragonstone six full moons after she birthed Rhaenys. It had been a NIGHTMARE in itself, bedridden; unable to walk her sweet baby girl outside. The maester didn't approve, but Elia REFUSED to abide by the recommendations that she shouldn't even feed her breast to her daughter because it might only WEAKEN her more. She has been proving all her life how her health would not become an obstacle, and it that will not change now.

she is oddly quiet and still ────── seemingly at peace despite the trouble brewing upon her brow, doubt like an ever crumbling chasm ripping her heart in two... anxiety chews at the plush of her lip, eyes lifting to meet mother's gaze through her mirrored image, searching for her guidance, her comfort, or approval ― ❛ what did you think of this king, mama? do you think this a good match? ❜ arianne could not discount her attraction to the man, nor her admiration to his willingness to accept the dornish princess just as she is ― fierce, and bold, and loyal... but neither could arianne bring herself to think of leaving home...

emerald eyes glitter with tears ,  picture perfect mask on the brink of breaking  ──────  there is a sob knotting betwixt her cords, doubt twisting in the pit of her stomach. why did leaving feel so wrong?    ❛  you know i want you...it’s not a secret i try to hide.  ❜    and should the choice be her own to make, without fear or adversity, she’d stay.    ❛   ― but i can’t you.  ❜    a quiver in her vowels, heartbreak resounding in every word.    ❛  we’re bound to break...and my hands are tied.  ❜

@daezprumia ( as rhaella ) says:  you are half my soul, as the poets say.

he cares not for poets and surely he would not give relevance to their much too flowery words about this.   about the love they hold between them,  on a sacred altar that must never be defiled  —  she is the only sacred thing in his life,  it seems,  the one thing he will not push under his boot the moment she happens to take a turn which displeases him.  like house reyne,  like what he had been willing to do to his own father had he not stepped down when asked.  kinslayer,  the people might have called him then,  although he would not have given them any chance to know of his deed.  not even rhaella would have known,  especially not her.  you are half my soul,  she vows,  yet she has no idea how wretched his own truly is.  how could she ever hold even the smallest piece of it in her?  besides,  tywin believes about entwined souls even less than he does about the use for poets or bards.  lest he has need of them,  of course.  even so,  certainly not to spread nonsense about people sharing souls.  the same reservations,  however,  don't apply to her at all:  he shifts closer to where she lies on their bed,  arm wound around her waist and chin settled on the juncture between neck and shoulder.  tywin doesn't know about their souls,  but their bodies are surely well joined. 

❛  i thought you asleep already.  are these fine poets of yours keeping you awake so late?  ❜    a kiss is pressed to her skin,  a sweet greeting after hours with eyes trained on nothing but the documents lined on his desk.