#dragndaughter

           she has not moved from bed in two days.  this one had been much harder than the last , and its physical & emotional toll haunts katherynne’s every waking thought. she has failed him again - broken his heart , no doubt. her own has broken, too.  she has given the servants reason to talk , his family reason to talk. she has given him cause to resent her. and yet , the door creaks open.

     katherynne barely turns her head , fatigue overwhelming her. she opens her mouth to send whoever is calling away , but is left with little sound but a pitiful croak. eyes close, waiting for tears that have all but run out. a familiar voice fills the air , wrapping its way around her heart. what can she do but look his way ?  blue eyes widen , and she lifts a trembling hand to tug  ever so gently at his wrist , urging him to sit in the space beside her. 

                      she has never loved him more than she does in this moment. 

     it isn’t until he is settled that she exhales a broken sigh , a strangled cry for all that they have lost. she presses her face against the crook of his neck , wraps an arm around him. small frame fits itself up against his. 

                    ❛❛ my heart , ❜❜ she begins , clinging as tightly to him as she can manage. ❛❛ i am so sorry.  ❜❜

         she dares not move too much, for fear of waking the sleeping she now gazes upon. it felt like only moments ago that he had stumbled into their chambers , murmuring exhausted hellos and pressing equally exhausted kisses to her cheek. she can tell , she always can tell when the day has proven  trying for the lord tyrell. when the people are too much , or the responsibilities too great. she can tell  because she knows him. she can tell because she has those days too .

      hands quickly forgo her sewing , taking instead to smoothing a space for his head upon her skirts. in close proximity they remain , as fingers skim his shoulders , dance across his cheeks , and are finally tasked with the threading and unthreading dark hair between delicate digits. she does not say much, nor does she expect much from him. this time is merely for rest , and the inevitable comfort that seems to come when they are together.

       she offers him sweet smiles in return for watching his eyelids become heavier and heavier. his face relaxes as sleep takes him , and katherynne allows an affectionate little hum to pass between her lips. fingers do not cease entirely in their quest, continuing to slowly create paths through his hair. she does, however, take one hand and rest against his heart, carefully maneuvering it to rest between fabric and skin. she watches it rise and fall, and is comforted by the faint thump against her fingers. the beating of his heart fills her own with unbridled attachment. katherynne leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, and then his temple. the anonymity of sleep makes her bold enough to wear her heart on her sleeve. she whispers.

           ❝  i’m so very fortunate to love you, you know . . .  ❞ another featherlight kiss to warm skin before she withdraws.  ❝ sweet dreams, my heart.   ❞