#petitsdieu

AS INEVITABLE AS MARGOT BELIEVES THIS WAS, IT STILL HURTS TO HEAR.

Maybe she's being unfair or unreasonably hypocritical. Why would Hara's subconscious go there? Doesn't she know Margot loves her wholly and unconditionally and would do anything to keep her safe? Just look at what she's already done!

Exactly. Look at what she's already done.

Sitting in her unfairness and hypocrisy, Margot wonders if Hara brings this up now to hurt Margot.

Mentally, she takes a step back. Physically, presently, she takes the popcorn bowl from her lap and sets it on Hara's coffee table.

"How?"

from what nate knows of love, it's a destructive and transformative force. nate jacobs has been in relationships, but he's not delusional enough to think he understands a concept as intangible as love. he's familiar with lust, with power. he supposes that's what happens when you assumed you'd grow up with parents that loved each other and were born not out of love, but obligation and resentment. it's not an experience unique to him, a tale as old as time, not anyone's fault nate turned out the way he did — it's pathological when he fucks up a relationship that had the most semblance of unconditional love he's ever had. it's easier to choose what you've known, harder to be vulnerable and happy when your brain and nervous system won't allow it. hara is a wisp of a thing, with a perfectly balanced face with strong yet soft features and an aura of mystique. nate towers over her in comparison and he bends his knees as he leans back against the porch railing, a futile attempt to seem unimposing, but he's trying. he meets her at a colleague's wedding, and nate's own fiancé had bowed out as his plus one at the last minute, said she had less reason to attend than nate did. nate's not really sure what she does all day, but he'd wager that she's curating her own lavish dream wedding pinterest board right now. it's a modest backyard ceremony, with string lights adorning the arbors and a no cash bar. although, he's unsure if a backyard wedding can be considered modest when there's floating lanterns in a 16 by 32 foot pool. nate grins, cheeks dimpling as he shrugs. "vulgar? maybe you're right. but there's no accounting for taste," he murmurs, gaze flitting over hara's face. nate's picked up on some tension between the groom and soon to be brother-in-law, but it's not his circus, not his monkeys. he's content to chat with hara for as long as she affords him her time, and retrieves a cigarette from the pocket of his slacks before lighting up, cherry blooming between his lips before he wedges it between his fingers after an inhale — extending his hand in silent offering. "thoughts on the institution of marriage? curious if you're a romantic or a realist." nate's never been the best at small talk, he's a fixer-upper, not a poised gentleman.

{ from this meme }

yes. sometimes i even stalk blogs after following them.

He's been exhausted for the last week, and he doesn't know how he's kept moving. He's half convinced that now that he has, his entire body will finally give out and fall into pieces. It comes close, his upper body slacking into an unnatural angle until he's all but hunched over into her.

Send MOM + a question for my muse's mother to answer the question. || @topshelfperverts and this time tagging @petitsdieu and even @godresembled just for fun || always accepting, come fuck up my muses.

"They came into the world holding onto each other. The midwife had to separate their hands. I've never stopped thinking about that."

She is quiet for a moment in the way of someone sorting through things too carefully folded to unfold quickly.

"Valyalina has her father's patience and my stubbornness and the water's good sense, which is more than either of us can claim. She learned the Deep things. The Slow things. She became—"

Something softens. Something that has not softened in a long time. "She became what I had hoped to give them both."

A breath. Then:

"Feyd-Rautha was—"

She stops. Starts again.

"He was so loud." Not unkindly. The way a beautiful, destructive storm is described. "Valya would sit at the water for hours and Feyd would throw rocks into it just to see what happened. Just to make it respond." A smile. "He always needed the world to respond to him. I used to think that would serve him well."

She thinks of the last time she saw him small. Whether she had known, holding him, that it was the last time. Of course: she must have. Valya is not alone in Knowing and Seeing and Haunting.

"They were so different and so exactly the same. Valya knew what the water was saying. Feyd just—" a pause, "he just wanted it to know he was there."

Something crosses her face that doesn't quite resolve into any one thing. "Vladimir took that from him too. That particular loudness. What came back was something quieter and much more dangerous and I still—"

There is no end to that sentence.

The roaring of dragons above were the clear signs The Royal family of the Targaryens has arrived, if one hadn't heard the power of their wings within the skies above - Baelor's being the biggest as far as dragons currently living, but not compared to those long since passed. The power of their feet landing onto the ground could shake the earth below, and strike fear into anyone not expecting to see these beasts in person much less hear them from the town nearby. His dragon, a dark brown male, with wings that darkened at the tips and golden flecks all over his body at random, lowered himself to allow the heir to slide off and allow handlers to take over in directing the dragons to a place readied for the animals to rest.

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