She presses a blanket around her, shivering a little at the breeze finding its way through the cracked walls, her eyes watching the candle flicker in and out of life. Her finger grazes the flame, inching closer and closer each time she doesn't feel a sting, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips as she recalls a childish game.
"You'll get burned."
She doesn't turn but her smile widens, palm hovering closer to the burning wax. "Fire cannot kill a dragon. Isn't that what they say? I'm to be a dragon soon."
He sinks on the edge of the bed, grunting in protest, and she silences him easily, just as she knows, lips pressing against his mouth. She straddles him, legs locking around him, fingers vices on his wrists and she loves him more than ever in that moment, when he lets her take control, this princess who has never had a life to call her own.
Her fingers are deft, unlacing the barriers between them, and she's already wet and he's already hard and they sink into each other with almost no effort at all. Her teeth bite at his jaw and she pulls at his hair, tricking herself into thinking it is silver spun strands she holds in her hands. He whispers in her ear every time she bucks against him and she tries to ignore the name, tries to forget that she's Elia, Elia, Elia.
Her body tightens around him and she bites hard against his tongue, ordering him silently to wait. I am the Princess, she wants to howl, and you are my Prince, but the words don't come out as she pants and her body breaks into two, frail once more, as weak as she always has been.
When she opens her eyes, it's Oberyn she sees and she's thankful for that at least, for something familiar, in the face of all that's to come tomorrow.
They sleep, entwined in each other's arms, fitting together perfectly and when they wake, he smiles dutifully and she is ready to finally let go.
The castle is cold in more ways than one.
She presses a blanket around her, shivering a little at the breeze finding its way through the cracked walls, her eyes watching the candle flicker in and out of life. Her finger grazes the flame, inching closer and closer each time she doesn't feel a sting, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips as she recalls a childish game.
"You'll get burned."
She doesn't turn but her smile widens, palm hovering closer to the burning wax. "Fire cannot kill a dragon. Isn't that what they say? I'm to be a dragon soon."
He sinks on the edge of the bed, grunting in protest, and she silences him easily, just as she knows, lips pressing against his mouth. She straddles him, legs locking around him, fingers vices on his wrists and she loves him more than ever in that moment, when he lets her take control, this princess who has never had a life to call her own.
Her fingers are deft, unlacing the barriers between them, and she's already wet and he's already hard and they sink into each other with almost no effort at all. Her teeth bite at his jaw and she pulls at his hair, tricking herself into thinking it is silver spun strands she holds in her hands. He whispers in her ear every time she bucks against him and she tries to ignore the name, tries to forget that she's Elia, Elia, Elia.
Her body tightens around him and she bites hard against his tongue, ordering him silently to wait. I am the Princess, she wants to howl, and you are my Prince, but the words don't come out as she pants and her body breaks into two, frail once more, as weak as she always has been.
When she opens her eyes, it's Oberyn she sees and she's thankful for that at least, for something familiar, in the face of all that's to come tomorrow.
They sleep, entwined in each other's arms, fitting together perfectly and when they wake, he smiles dutifully and she is ready to finally let go.
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WHY DO YOU HATE ME LEIGHANNE GOD
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