[ Her eyes well, for that, not in pain or misery, but to know she had helped him, it felt so good to hear that for once she had done something right when her life felt so long a series of mistakes. ]
I was never sure if I wanted to tell you I am glad you came back with us, or to say sorry. I know - I know many would not understand it... but I know a different sort of connection, and how much it hurts to be pulled away.
My people are born that way — connected. Some handle the distance better than others, but extended separation is always a struggle, even for the more resilient among us.
( he takes another sip from his cup, trying to find the right words to explain himself.
her likening slender's control to a song lingers in his thoughts: beautiful yet terrible, its absense more of a torment than a comfort. )
I've been away from my home for a long time. And knowing that I can't ever truly go back doesn't make the loss any easier. But I don't blame you for what you did. It was necessary.
[ She extends herself to lean on the back of the lounge to face him. ]
Perhaps because I know it differently but well. Every day I wake, and I cannot find the sea. I walk on this river and I want to weep. Only in those dreams did... did I have it again, or elsewise, the longing was gone from me.
[ She picks at a thread on her gown. ]
Do you ever worry that all of this, lovers and friends, it is simply seeking to drown the ache? Some missed placed attempt when the truth is, you shall never find that again?
( he twists the cup around in his hands, feeling the smooth surface against his fingertips. )
Often.
( it didn't escape his notice that the dynamic between him, mavis, and murphy echoed the one he'd had with ione and leto — at least in the most general sense.
it also didn't bring him comfort. ) I know myself well enough by now to understand that I either love or I don't, there's no middle ground. And I'd rather have them than be alone.
I thought I was doing what I had to. To keep myself safe and calm my Sea and its longing. But... but Queen Alicent said that I had given Cesare insult beyond words that no one could accept. That he wouldn't, and couldn't move past. They all said the same thing, that it was about one person, and utmost loyalty to the one person.
[ She sets her chin. ] ... and I ignored it and ignored what they all said... and now... is the fault mine? Am I too selfish in my desires? How can it be love if all I do is hurt those I say I love?
[ The tears are there again, as she hastily swallows down another mouthful. ] But I do not know how to be other than this. I was raised to be many. To be part of all those around me, and to give as the Sea gave to me. To share in all things but... but if it is selfishness...?
Edited (hit enter too early!!) 2024-04-22 17:43 (UTC)
Cesare seems very thin-skinned from what I've seen. ( frankly, although not unkindly.
he'd been like a porcupine on the network, easily provoked into showing his bristles. a generous man would recognize the insecurity beneath this, but he wasn't feeling particularly generous. )
Did he ever express his feelings to you about the others? It seems he just assumed that your ways were his ways and never bothered to look beyond that.
He said that was how it works, but in the same, he shared me with Sweeney. He told me it was supposed to be one couple, but that men could have many mistresses if they liked, but women could not?
Then Ianthe wanted to share me, and so I thought he would be fine with it, as he shared me gladly with Sweeney, but then he wasn't because he did not like Ianthe. We quarrelled. We have kept quarrelling ever since.
( there's some genuine confusion here. he's not claiming to be an authority on marriage — his culture doesn't engage in such practices, and mavis' account of her culture's practices had always been a little lacking — but he understood partnership,, and this seems unfairly tilted in cesare's favor. )
He can't say you're his equal and then not treat you that way, Gilia.
That is where I often felt confused. [ There is relief in her gaze as he speaks, glad at least that her confusion was shared. ]
I do not know. He kept insisting I was his wife, always his wife. That we would be together as such. Our vows were sacred to him. About what loyalty meant. But we never really agreed what we would be us, now, here. So I just - kept going as I did.
But - [She shuts her eyes, shudders at the idea. ] - He was not like some warned. Some said women are property in their home. They trade them in marriage bed like cattle to make children.
( another slow sip from his cup, drawing out the moment. letting her have the room to speak, because he suspects she hasn't had much opportunity to do that lately.
finally: ) So being a wife obviously means something different to him. ( not an unforgivable sin, but — ) But it seems like you're doing all the sacrificing and getting next to nothing back. No wonder you're unsatisfied.
Very much. I have insulted him and hurt him deeply with my actions. Such that he cannot be with me in any form, and trust me.
[ She can't help but move closer - more than anything it made her feel so lonely, so empty, and she brushes her shoulder against his as she settles in beside him. ]
I could not make it understand - that what I am... it needs more, that I crave those moments, of endless connection to be part of the whole, how it keeps the part of me unearthly in balance. My monster has taught me well, how endless my desires, how they could as easily kill. But he found nothing holy in that communion, in my way of being.
( his hand rests on her knee as he turns his head to meet her gaze, holding it steadily. )
Where do you think your responsibilities lie? ( the most pressing question. she turned to him for comfort and understanding, worried about what she'd do in her despair — and, judging by that tree outside, those concerns were more than justified. )
Because I think you already know the answer; you just need someone else to give you permission to accept it.
( as gilia cries, his hand sweeps from her knee to her shoulder, tucking her closer. )
I'm sorry he couldn't do that for you, Gilia. ( she'll be better off without him in the long run, but that doesn't mitigate the pain of this moment. nor does it make it any less unfair that this is probably not the last time she'll weep like this. )
[ Its a stupid idea - but she cannot bear this emptiness all over again, this hurt, clawing out of her stomach like bilge water rot.
But she lifts her head and finds his mouth, driving into him in a too sharp kiss that is tearful and desperate. The sharp taste of drink and all her hurt heart. A slant of her body into his that is badly planned out and off angle as she just tries to breath against his lips. Center herself. Or center it on him, for better or worse. ]
brows drawing down in surprise as he registers what she's done. her mouth tastes like salt, like liquor, and he can feel the desperation in every breath she takes against his lips.
was this the plan all along? does it even matter?
when they pull away for breath, he slips a hand around the nape of her neck, keeping her still. )
[ There is every chance he rejects her - they had bedded each other only once, after all, and she had been blindfolded, who was to say he even wanted anything else? Not to mention - a drunken, tearful mess might not be what he preferred in lovers, reasonably.
But he doesn't pull away and the tension seeps out of her, even as the second guessing creeps in. Her hands slip over his shoulders, her body relaxing. ]
Upstairs. [ She keeps her eyes lowered. ] I don't want to frighten you. I'm not... I'm not in control, right now.
( gilia, please. as if that's any way to discourage him. )
I think I'll manage. ( he's bedded much stranger things than her since coming here — had enjoyed it too, but that's really beside the point. she's the one in need of a distraction, and this can't be worse than spending an evening drinking away her sorrows. )
So — ( he sets aside his cup, still half-full. ) why don't you show me the way?
[ How readily she gives that reassurance, how gladly she takes it, and that's another sign of her selfishness too.
Pulling up to be sure, her gaze flicks between his as she swallows to find her words. He could leave, she reminds herself. He is no slight man, not inclined to do other than what he wills. He would not stay, would not embrace her, if he did not want too. ]
If... if you're sure... uhm... [ She worries her lips together in a thin line before she gathers up the skirts of her dress out of her way to stand up on shakey legs, less to do with drink and more with nerves. ] This way.
[ She offers a hand to him, beckoning him to follow. There is only one set of stairs after all, at the back of the room, the whole house truly only two rooms in total, not much to get lost in. ]
[ Her fingers curl and grip, smooth and savour, the sounds softly smothered of pleased happiness, the sensation of communion so savoured. Everything grounding to be so painfully real, and here, and consuming. ]
Take it away, please. [ She breathes it, prayer like, into his lips. ] I hurt, I am so tired of hurting. I miss feeling whole.
[ Beyond the open doorway of the upstairs room, is a huge bed built into the walls to make an alcove of the space. A small heating fireplace sits on one wall, with a pile of blankets and furs in front of it. But she directs him soundly to that bed, and that warm space that seems to take up most of the space - given that it is made for someone taller even, than she is. ]
That's the plan. ( simple but earnest. there's not much he can do for her now, not when she'd already done the hardest thing, but he if he can soothe that ache even a little then he will. of course he will — how can he not?
they half walk, half stumble to the bed. gilia falling back into the pile of blankets and he follows soon after, covering her body with his own. )
No more thinking of him. ( his mouth brushes over the jut of her clavicle, the soft line of her jaw. ) Only me, only this.
[ She nods all too obediently, all too ready to take his lead when it gives her freedom from this pain, for however long. Her head turns up, warm into kissing him, breathing him in as he does the same in turn.
Her hands are still soft, curious things. Gentle how they touch, tentative as she explores. Yes, she has laid with him, and yes it was debauched, but she is still that quiet woman even now that felt shy in the face of her own honest desire. In the face of someone so handsome and so sure of himself. To want to please him maddeningly so. She runs across his back, his shoulders, into his hair as she brushes her lips to his throat, the shell of his ear where she hid her little hitches of breath at his touch. Encouraging as much as she can, responding as much as she dared. ]
Good girl. ( murmuring against her lips, pleased by her ready compliance. he's used to fighting for obedience, finding pleasure in the challenge, but there's something to this quiet ease, too.
as her fingers roam his back through the faded flannel of his shirt, she might sense something strange — a cool, smooth texture unlike the usual bony ridges of his spine. three small, evenly spaced divots roughly the size of a fingernail mark each interval, running the length of his back. )
[ His praise is so craved, so intensely, it runs down her spine like hot oil, coating her senses. The whimper fills the space as she grips her fingers to his shoulder blades, not trusting her voice then. So curious and eager to find out all those dips and ridges, if he liked to be touched on those strange markings she can feel as she lingers. ]
O-of course.
[ Laying back flat below him so she can reach up, there is a care and reverence to even that. Her cheeks burning that somehow some one is going to snatch her hands away from something so wonderful she surely cannot deserve. Each button carefully undone, but quickly. Then hasty hands that are so eager to run all over him in the guise off pushing the shirt off his body, aiding his however needed to work in eager tandem. ]
You are so handsome - [ She sighs, struck by it not for the first time. ] - like paintings, like stories.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I was never sure if I wanted to tell you I am glad you came back with us, or to say sorry. I know - I know many would not understand it... but I know a different sort of connection, and how much it hurts to be pulled away.
no subject
( he takes another sip from his cup, trying to find the right words to explain himself.
her likening slender's control to a song lingers in his thoughts: beautiful yet terrible, its absense more of a torment than a comfort. )
I've been away from my home for a long time. And knowing that I can't ever truly go back doesn't make the loss any easier. But I don't blame you for what you did. It was necessary.
no subject
[ She extends herself to lean on the back of the lounge to face him. ]
Perhaps because I know it differently but well. Every day I wake, and I cannot find the sea. I walk on this river and I want to weep. Only in those dreams did... did I have it again, or elsewise, the longing was gone from me.
[ She picks at a thread on her gown. ]
Do you ever worry that all of this, lovers and friends, it is simply seeking to drown the ache? Some missed placed attempt when the truth is, you shall never find that again?
no subject
Often.
( it didn't escape his notice that the dynamic between him, mavis, and murphy echoed the one he'd had with ione and leto — at least in the most general sense.
it also didn't bring him comfort. ) I know myself well enough by now to understand that I either love or I don't, there's no middle ground. And I'd rather have them than be alone.
no subject
[ She keeps picking, fidgetting. ]
I thought I was doing what I had to. To keep myself safe and calm my Sea and its longing. But... but Queen Alicent said that I had given Cesare insult beyond words that no one could accept. That he wouldn't, and couldn't move past. They all said the same thing, that it was about one person, and utmost loyalty to the one person.
[ She sets her chin. ] ... and I ignored it and ignored what they all said... and now... is the fault mine? Am I too selfish in my desires? How can it be love if all I do is hurt those I say I love?
[ The tears are there again, as she hastily swallows down another mouthful. ] But I do not know how to be other than this. I was raised to be many. To be part of all those around me, and to give as the Sea gave to me. To share in all things but... but if it is selfishness...?
no subject
he'd been like a porcupine on the network, easily provoked into showing his bristles. a generous man would recognize the insecurity beneath this, but he wasn't feeling particularly generous. )
Did he ever express his feelings to you about the others? It seems he just assumed that your ways were his ways and never bothered to look beyond that.
no subject
[ She kept her eyes down. ]
He said that was how it works, but in the same, he shared me with Sweeney. He told me it was supposed to be one couple, but that men could have many mistresses if they liked, but women could not?
Then Ianthe wanted to share me, and so I thought he would be fine with it, as he shared me gladly with Sweeney, but then he wasn't because he did not like Ianthe. We quarrelled. We have kept quarrelling ever since.
no subject
( there's some genuine confusion here. he's not claiming to be an authority on marriage — his culture doesn't engage in such practices, and mavis' account of her culture's practices had always been a little lacking — but he understood partnership,, and this seems unfairly tilted in cesare's favor. )
He can't say you're his equal and then not treat you that way, Gilia.
no subject
I do not know. He kept insisting I was his wife, always his wife. That we would be together as such. Our vows were sacred to him. About what loyalty meant. But we never really agreed what we would be us, now, here. So I just - kept going as I did.
But - [She shuts her eyes, shudders at the idea. ] - He was not like some warned. Some said women are property in their home. They trade them in marriage bed like cattle to make children.
no subject
finally: ) So being a wife obviously means something different to him. ( not an unforgivable sin, but — ) But it seems like you're doing all the sacrificing and getting next to nothing back. No wonder you're unsatisfied.
no subject
[ She can't help but move closer - more than anything it made her feel so lonely, so empty, and she brushes her shoulder against his as she settles in beside him. ]
I could not make it understand - that what I am... it needs more, that I crave those moments, of endless connection to be part of the whole, how it keeps the part of me unearthly in balance. My monster has taught me well, how endless my desires, how they could as easily kill. But he found nothing holy in that communion, in my way of being.
no subject
Where do you think your responsibilities lie? ( the most pressing question. she turned to him for comfort and understanding, worried about what she'd do in her despair — and, judging by that tree outside, those concerns were more than justified. )
Because I think you already know the answer; you just need someone else to give you permission to accept it.
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With my duty, with my people, to never let any of you come to harm. That I swore with annoited oil on my brow, salt water on my lips.
[ Then she buries her face into his shoulder and hides the weeping there, shuddering shoulders. ]
I just wanted to be happy, Ari, I wanted to be happy.
no subject
I'm sorry he couldn't do that for you, Gilia. ( she'll be better off without him in the long run, but that doesn't mitigate the pain of this moment. nor does it make it any less unfair that this is probably not the last time she'll weep like this. )
no subject
But she lifts her head and finds his mouth, driving into him in a too sharp kiss that is tearful and desperate. The sharp taste of drink and all her hurt heart. A slant of her body into his that is badly planned out and off angle as she just tries to breath against his lips. Center herself. Or center it on him, for better or worse. ]
no subject
brows drawing down in surprise as he registers what she's done. her mouth tastes like salt, like liquor, and he can feel the desperation in every breath she takes against his lips.
was this the plan all along? does it even matter?
when they pull away for breath, he slips a hand around the nape of her neck, keeping her still. )
Where's your bedroom?
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But he doesn't pull away and the tension seeps out of her, even as the second guessing creeps in. Her hands slip over his shoulders, her body relaxing. ]
Upstairs. [ She keeps her eyes lowered. ] I don't want to frighten you. I'm not... I'm not in control, right now.
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I think I'll manage. ( he's bedded much stranger things than her since coming here — had enjoyed it too, but that's really beside the point. she's the one in need of a distraction, and this can't be worse than spending an evening drinking away her sorrows. )
So — ( he sets aside his cup, still half-full. ) why don't you show me the way?
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Pulling up to be sure, her gaze flicks between his as she swallows to find her words. He could leave, she reminds herself. He is no slight man, not inclined to do other than what he wills. He would not stay, would not embrace her, if he did not want too. ]
If... if you're sure... uhm... [ She worries her lips together in a thin line before she gathers up the skirts of her dress out of her way to stand up on shakey legs, less to do with drink and more with nerves. ] This way.
[ She offers a hand to him, beckoning him to follow. There is only one set of stairs after all, at the back of the room, the whole house truly only two rooms in total, not much to get lost in. ]
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any hesitation she'd had earlier is gone, but he stays close.
presses her against the stairs' last curve and kisses her again. swallows down the soft, startled noise she makes. )
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Take it away, please. [ She breathes it, prayer like, into his lips. ] I hurt, I am so tired of hurting. I miss feeling whole.
[ Beyond the open doorway of the upstairs room, is a huge bed built into the walls to make an alcove of the space. A small heating fireplace sits on one wall, with a pile of blankets and furs in front of it. But she directs him soundly to that bed, and that warm space that seems to take up most of the space - given that it is made for someone taller even, than she is. ]
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they half walk, half stumble to the bed. gilia falling back into the pile of blankets and he follows soon after, covering her body with his own. )
No more thinking of him. ( his mouth brushes over the jut of her clavicle, the soft line of her jaw. ) Only me, only this.
no subject
Her hands are still soft, curious things. Gentle how they touch, tentative as she explores. Yes, she has laid with him, and yes it was debauched, but she is still that quiet woman even now that felt shy in the face of her own honest desire. In the face of someone so handsome and so sure of himself. To want to please him maddeningly so. She runs across his back, his shoulders, into his hair as she brushes her lips to his throat, the shell of his ear where she hid her little hitches of breath at his touch. Encouraging as much as she can, responding as much as she dared. ]
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as her fingers roam his back through the faded flannel of his shirt, she might sense something strange — a cool, smooth texture unlike the usual bony ridges of his spine. three small, evenly spaced divots roughly the size of a fingernail mark each interval, running the length of his back. )
Now, help me get out of this shirt.
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O-of course.
[ Laying back flat below him so she can reach up, there is a care and reverence to even that. Her cheeks burning that somehow some one is going to snatch her hands away from something so wonderful she surely cannot deserve. Each button carefully undone, but quickly. Then hasty hands that are so eager to run all over him in the guise off pushing the shirt off his body, aiding his however needed to work in eager tandem. ]
You are so handsome - [ She sighs, struck by it not for the first time. ] - like paintings, like stories.
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