#freyjad

elio is raised with a relatively strong sense of community, with a large family and strong ties to his birthplace ; his family, parents and siblings alike, have given him much to be grateful for and much which he may feel inclined to repay. and yet he stills leaves braavos without their blessing, despite their wishes, and convinces himself never to look back. this could be careless, heartless, or even cruel, but for elio it is a matter both of the heart and the head, and he cannot understand why they do not see it this way. his parents, for all their love and affection for their children, are merchants through and through, and they teach him to never give anything unless he gets something in return.

when it comes to companionship, jeyne can be quite fickle. as a young girl, she is almost desperately social, seeking to emulate her mother’s social graces by gathering around her a collection of little ‘friends.’ whether these can be called companions is debatable ; it is more as if jeyne is a little queen with her little court, play-acting at her future responsibilities as some lord’s lady wife. even with all her little ladies --- distant lannett and lantell cousins, daughters of the city watchmen, even kitchen girls --- jeyne is always trying to join in with her brothers and their friends. irwyn indulges her on occasion, but davon dismisses her incessantly ; she’s too weak to swing even a practice sword, and too stupid to understand their games. 

these patterns persist ; jeyne cultivates an ability to seem enamored, to trade on the suggestion of sisterhood to move gracefully, though guardedly, in feminine social circles, all the while harboring an intense desire for a seat at the lords’ table. although she retains some true friends from her youth, most of her childhood playmates remain at some distance. she enjoys vibrant social gatherings and having people around her, but true companionship comes quite slowly to her, as she is quite withholding and insecure. 

“Do you have to fiddle? We’re only going down there to listen to some music, not meet the nobility.” He grunted, as her fingers swiftly brushed through his hair, combing it from one side to the next. He fell into laughter as he saw her face, deeply focused on her task. There was almost a hint of tongue sticking out from between her lips. “Come now.”

He took both her hands in his, brought them up to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one. “Stop your messing, would you?” He then looked her up and down and grinned that stupid, wide grin that only she could plaster on him. “Look at you. Beautiful enough to make a succubus weep.”

The candlelight flickered in their dark bedroom, outside the city slowly came to a rest. The sound of voices died down, replaced by barking hounds and the irregular sound of footsteps leading away. Downstairs the party was still going. Loud, drunk voices echoed through the walls. Music played, feet stomped, hands clapped. But their little room was quiet enough. The hearth had died to cinders. The curtains waved in a midnight breeze. And he was hanging from her lips, drinking in every word.

When she finished, he smiled somewhat sheepishly. “See, I didn’t understand a word of what you just read to me, but by the gods, did I love hearing it.” He then leaned over, reaching a hand out to grab her lower arm and pull her over to his lap. “I could sit here forever.”

He smirked, slowly getting up from his seat at by the hearth and sauntering over. A grin was plastered on his face as he did, chest bared. The scroll he was reading was dropped on one of the side tables, carved from fine pinewood. She always knew the best places to find a room. He was used to bedrolls, bushes and the ever-cold air outside. So a change of pace was well-received.

He wandered over to where she was seated, put two hands on the armrests of her chair and leaned over her. “The lady called?”

With a hearty laugh, he’d turn to her. His hand coming down on the table as his chest heaved with each deep bellow. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “I appreciate your concern, flower, but if this is the way I go, I wasn’t worthy to carry the medallion to begin with.” He shot her a grin and then, jokingly, flexed his muscles. “Have you not seen your knight in shining armour?”

He then dropped his arms, reached out and put a hand over the top of hers. “Believe me, I will be in no danger. I have you, do I not? But, if it makes you feel better, I will pay mind. At least a little more than usual.”