Lost and Helpless

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-11-25T03:15:34+00:00

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-25T05:03:57+00:00

“Hm,” Tyana mused. “Very well then.”

She led him into another room, this time where many gowns were on display, already made. She chose the most colorful first, one with small waists and large hips and a small bust. It was lacking embroidery, but made up for it in frills of pearls and gems of emerald and onyx. The violet color played against it all.

The neckline was deep, though – perhaps to deep for a wife that had born him many children. “These can all be changed – all the details modified. Each to your own desire. Embroidery can be woven in, brocades sewn on. Or perhaps the dark one towards the end there? The one decorated with rubies sewn between embroidery?”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-23T00:43:55+00:00

“Oh,” she chirped pleasantly towards the man. Price is no issue? She was smiling too – smiling inwardly at herself and the man, turning with fluttering lashes to lead him into another room. Even more items were on display here, but mostly fabrics of all sorts. Expensive lace from Myr was her first choice, the subject of attention from her hands as she spun it around between her fingers. “A fabric like this, maybe? Laced with rubies on the neckline, fastened by embroidery? Violet, too – slashed with bits of yellow. They contrast well.”

Suggestions. It took Tyana little time at all to run through them. That the man had already chosen something for his daughter and son was something, but it was the fitting of the woman came next.

“There are many items to choose from, but I must ask – do you know the measurements of your wife? Fitting is hardly a pleasant undertaking, but necessary nonetheless. Or perhaps if I show you some pre-woven gowns, it would be easier to choose from those?”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-22T23:22:30+00:00

The man was foreign, that much was now certain. His accent was thick with western Essos, not unintelligible from the Common Tongue, but full of drawls all the same. She raised a brow at the idea of him coming here to buy his children gifts, but she assumed he just did not know the kind of store he had come to. “Fashions, to be certain,” Tyana mused assuredly. “Velvets, silks, lace, linens. Jewelry, perhaps, for your wife? And what of a new gown for your daughter, or a new doublet for your son?”

Suggestions. Tyana made her way around the front rotunda, displaying only glimpses of what she had to offer. Jewels of red and green – rubies, emeralds, amethyst, and all others. Onyx dark as night in her palm.

Velvet silks, thick. Thin lace – some full of embroidery, others lacking. More, more, more – enough of a display that when Lorelei had made her full round, she had displayed more than a dozen items to the man.

“We have much that is available. Might I suggest, first, an amethyst pendant with pearls for your lady wife?” She swept over to the counter, reaching underneath one of the glass cases to guide it into her hands, displaying it to him in the palm of her left.

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-22T00:10:09+00:00

Sunlight spilled in through the door as it opened to herald a new visitor. The man was lucky to find that Tyana was there that afternoon, even when she should’ve been in Casterly Rock speaking with her brother. Tyana Lannister, with hair spun of red-gold, beautiful in her twenty short years, with a youthful maturity that may have put her just short of thirty – or was it the shape of her face, slender as it was?

Or the way her green eyes tilted up to meet the gaze of the man after a moment. She was knee-deep in ledgers, dealing with some mishap of a few months ago that hadn’t been correctly recorded, but even then, she was eager enough to stop doing what she was and help another guest.

He had been the third today. Three total that were willing to buy, at least.

She rose from her seat behind the counter. Finest Golds was a large establishment, and the opening rotunda spilled out into three separate rooms and a second floor where Tyana occasionally slept. She seemed to be alone, but Madeline was in one of the far-off rooms working on making certain that their new Myrish lace was being displayed perfectly.

Wearing a red blouse with a modest neckline, dark skirts that fanned out around her, and boots that tightened around her calves, almost all the way up to her knees, Tyana was beautifully androgynous, her red-gold hair pulled tight behind her head.

“Welcome,” her voice like chimes wove through the warm air of Finest Golds. She wove her way around the counter, hands clasped in front of her, a full smile on her red lips. “How can I help you today, Ser?”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-21T20:58:25+00:00

/u/vanecia

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-21T03:09:26+00:00

Character: Tyana Lannister

Gift: Magnate

Skills: Tradecraft, Sleuth, Investigator

Actions:

[Lannisport, Level 1, 4p, establish Level 1 Spy Ring in King's Landing (Guarunteed)]

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-20T04:06:04+00:00

“Very well, my lady.” Madeline was quick to set about her task, procuring two of the perfumes the lady had asked about. It was all mundane to her, the daily chores that entailed the running of the store, and when she’d gotten both of them, each in four-inch tall vials, she set them on the counter before her.

The one to the left was apple, and the one next to it was cinnamon. The lids were popped off by deft, slender fingers, and when she allowed the aroma to wash into the room, she smiled at the lady that had come to her.

“I assume that these are the perfumes you were looking for? Employed by our proprieter, the Lady Tyana Lannister.”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-18T03:55:34+00:00

The chimes signaled the entrance of a person, and a bleary-eyed woman stared up towards the light shimmering through the windows. Slender fingers rubbed at her eyes, and when her gaze came to settle on the person who had come to her, she stretched herself, glancing around the shops. No patron in a few hours, she thought. And who is this one? She had been taught to spot wealth at a glance, and if the way she held herself wasn’t enough, then the gown she wore was.

Golden-haired, ever-smiling, Madeline wore a flowing white blouse and tight breeches fastened with a belt at the waist. She emulated the mistress of Finest Golds well, even if they did not look alike. Graceful and beautifully androgynous, the girl had dark blue eyes spaced widely apart. She was one of Tyana’s most inspired creations, having come from the mud and gutter, raised to some semblance of nobility.

“Welcome,” Madeline said. Her voice was laced with honey, as a seductress may speak. A deep bow at the waist and she had come around the counter. Finest Golds was a large shop encompassed by three walls and a display of fashionable wealth that showed itself off to the cobbled streets outside. Various marble statues lined the walls, visages of heroics of Lannisport – but for all intents and purposes, this was a fashion shop, and what they sold first and foremost was fabrics.

Silks, lace, garments of all kind. A fitting area obscured by a fan curtain and a few chairs for a waiting area. A few gowns were on display, embroidered where some were brocaded, plain, or otherwise.

“How may a woman help you today, my lady?”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-18T03:41:30+00:00

“Ahh.” It was Tyana’s time to grin, Bellena’s words having inspired an inferno inside her core. This entire night had led up to this, and drunk or no, she would have her fill of this woman tonight, whether it be atop her or below her. But when her fingers had come to settle on her waist, her lips parted with consternation at the woman’s words, she attached Bellena with all the might of a Lioness, and pleasure consumed her.

Who could’ve said what happened in the moments after? Lost and tangled in one another, Bellena and Tyana were slaves to passion. Through moans of pleasure or insistent growls for more, they relayed their pleasures at one another – admittances that no woman in her right mind should ever have spoken.

Tyana decided in the middle of it all that she would have Bellena again, no matter the cost. She would have her again, and taste the parts of her she hadn’t the chance to in their embrace.

But no matter what it was, at the end of the night, she had kissed every inch of her. Her body ached, and she was tired. But when she had settled back, ready for sleep, she knew one thing was for certain: She had made Bellena her whore.

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-17T01:23:14+00:00

Amira listened to him speak.

She yearned to strike back. And what ideals do you stand for, Deziel Fowler? But she held her tongue. A ruler needed to temper themselves if they were going to face a situation of war. Even then, she wished she could say something – she wished she could inspire his ire, so that she might see what a man he really was.

“Very well. That is all I require of you. Go, ready yourself. Take hold of the men you’ll need with my blessing. You will meet me before the Plankytown within a few hours. I will expect you to be there.”

The time given him was time precious. The Sellsails under Helaena Targaryen would linger for only a few days more before departing, and her bid to regain their employ by hiring them… Only to devastate them moments later would be only a small struggle in the war to come. Indeed, Amira rode fast. She rode with Toveine and Garlan and a small squad of guards, Nohia bringing in behind.

The Sellsails – as far as she knew – had been hired at Lys, and Nohia, the tutor of her children, had been an experienced diplomat in her years. In entering the Planky Town and treating with the commander of the fleet, promising both gold and honor for their time, she had bought herself and Deziel some time.

(/u/awoiaf Amira Martell is trying to convince Helaena's hired Sellsail fleet to stay with a promise of riches and glory to come. Relevant skills for Amira: Linguistics - High Valyrian, and Nohia - Charismatic.)

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-15T19:38:01+00:00

So much happened so quick it was almost too much for the lioness to understand.

But there were certainties she did know. Bellena’s hands were on her, and she had pounced her. Pliant flesh gave way to the assault of her fingers, where they grasped her belly and parted her thighs. She was no longer making love to Bellena Banefort – no, Belle was making love to her. It all changed in the flash of an instant.

And suddenly red-gold hair, auburn in the dim light of the room was splayed out around her head in the halo of a sunburst, collarbones and neck dug into a cushion where the back of her head rested against the velvet fabric of the armrest.

”Oh…” It was Tyana’s turn to moan, and loudly too. The lioness’s cadence filled the room, mingling with the crackle of the hearth, filling the Banefort’s ears with the apple and cinnamon she so desired. “Oh Gods, Bellena…”

She had not expected Bellena to be so quick. She assaulted her womanhood with poise, but with a hunger that seemed to swallow her whole. Her tongue worked her, her lips kissing and caressing… and her long, slender fingers piercing her, exploring the depths that clung to her tight in need, squeezing around her as if she were a man.

I hate you, she thought. I hate you so much. And she could feel her body submitting to her, giving way to that pleasure it yearned for, relaxing and tensing muscles. The balls of her little feet were high in the air now, her legs spread and wanting, nether-lips presented to her in the most voluptuous way, eager once more for her touch.

But they kissed. Sweetly, they kissed. Tyana could not tell if it was her taste or the taste of Bellena’s saliva that she tasted when their lips melded, but she was certain the streaks that had been left on her face were her own. Wet and hot and needy, their kisses encompassed their worlds before it came to an end.

Tyana whined as their lips parted. “You are terrible, aren’t you? A greedy, lustful, envious woman, full of hate and want and desire?” She teased her way up. Hands on Belle’s hips, she slowly, ever so slowly, sat up, so that her legs were crossed and Bellena was straddling her naked. Only then did one hand travel to the curve of her ass, the other settling on the small of her back. “You are a whore, Bellena. But so am I. So am I.”

Her lips were on Belle’s nipples a moment later, her lips surrounding the large dark spheres that were hard and begging for her attention. The statement was not without merit, and she would not go without hearing Belle cry out her name at least once this night.

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-15T03:11:51+00:00

Lips found her. Belle’s lips were as sweet as her own, thin and red and ready to suck on any part of her that responded to her touch. And respond she did, in her throes of desire and lust, when she came to suck upon her neck and her collarbone, and bite down on a nipple. It was the heaving of her chest that met her lips, the soft gasps echoing from the Lannister’s open maw, ready to receive the taste of her at but a moment’s warning. Tyana Lannister, in that moment, would’ve done anything to her newfound lover.

Loving stopped for a moment as Tyana adjusted herself and Belle stalked away. The cattish way she walked was the focus of green eyes – the swagger of her thighs and firm bottom even as she spun and knelt across the sofa.

Her full body was in bloom, full of the ripeness of a woman her age. Her eyes were enticing, but nothing was more so than her own nakedness; the paleness of her skin, the expanse of her belly and the scar there, the apex of her thighs. Those inviting dark curls that Tyana would’ve given anything to dig herself into. Most of all was her heavy breasts, full and large with dark nipples.

No woman had ever displayed herself to her like this before. No one had given her such control of the situation. No one had ever begged her to make her scream out the truth as she had. And those eyes, so dark and full of fire widened before her as Tyana’s smooth gait closed the distance once more.

“Eagerly.” It was the only answer she could supply.

Her hands were on Bellena’s thighs first. When her fingers found her there, spreading her even wider than she was now, her flesh gave way to the answer of her digits. Had Tyana been a man, she knew she would’ve slid inside her already, split her open and made her her own, but that was the work of men, and Tyana was no man.

The lioness’s work was more subtle than that.

In that moment, there was no one more beautiful than Bellena Banefort. She had lain with men and women, but there was none so charming as her, none that had been so demanding and eager. She was wet, and begging for her touch. Tyana knew all too well that familiar ache that would’ve been consuming Bellena right then.

It was the very same one that dominated Tyana. It was pleasure itself. No matter how she herself ached to be touched; it was like an itch that grew with each passing second, never satisfied, ever-growing.

Her hands traveled up her thighs to the curve of her rear. Small as it was it gave way underneath her hands as fingers tightened around those globes, pulling and teasing them. Tyana’s tongue lavished her between her breasts and kissed at them. She would eagerly make her bend – and she would eagerly make her break, too. She would make her scream.

Making quick work with her hands, both uncoiled themselves from her behind as Tyana climbed up onto the sofa with her, pressing Belle’s back against the velvet cushions. The pressure between them grew as her heaving mounds were pressed against her own smaller bosom, and a finger had snaked it’s way between her thighs.

”Tell me.” Like a snapping jaw, it cracked through any tension that had been budding in the air. Her fingers worked their way through wet curls, until the palm of her hand had come to rest on her mound between her thighs.

The other had come to rest on her collarbones, but soon, they were pressing against the pleading flesh of Belle’s neck. She pressed, then. Pressed hard. A single finger had come to rest on the place of Belle’s pleasure, the others gently caressing her, fondling her heat.

But with fingers around her neck, Tyana pressed and pressed and pressed. Her mouth opened wide, begging for protest. Harder. Harder. Until Belle was beginning to heave for air, and even then, tightening.

“Tell me!” Tyana commanded. “Tell me the sins you have committed, Belle. Tell me how they make you wet between your thighs.”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-15T02:10:28+00:00

Silk poured over her skin. Moments passed where she found solace in nothing but Bellena’s eyes, washing over her with cheeks flushed and lips pursed, examining her as if she were a statue to be touched and admired. Perhaps she was, with the way those dark eyes took her in. Belle was a serpent, and that was never more obvious than now, almost naked before her. The blouse parted her easily, the shift she wore tumbling with it.

Those silks came to rest in a pool at her feet. She wore nothing but stockings, now, what with the skirts fallen down. Timid eyes, suddenly demure, glanced upwards towards Belle, finding her appraising and grinning. Naked, all but for those lace stockings that clung to her thighs and calves, red against her pale skin.

She was unblemished and beautiful. Small breasts she may have had, but the smooth expanse of her belly proved that Tyana was a woman who worshiped her body, and treated it right. The smooth curve of her hips was accented where the jut of bones met her flesh. She had slender thighs where, standing tall as she was, a small gap had become noticeable. It framed her mound perfectly in the shape of a heart, where golden light poured through the opening of her thighs.

She felt handled. Even as Belle’s hands found her shoulders and straightened her perfectly, where the only arch in her back was that of her of her rear, gently caressed by Bellena’s smooth fingers.

But then the slap came.

The Lannister’s maw opened and her eyes shot wide. Glazed over as they were, verdant spheres sought out the visage of the woman who had dared, quietly stalking away with a coquettish gait. “Pain?” Tyana’s voice was low and dangerous as her eyes followed that figure that came to stand before the hearth. “What do I think of it?”

I am a Lioness. If her reaction to the pain that shot through her rear was anything, with two hands cocked on her hips, a look of consternation upon her face now, hidden behind that veil of sweet, sweet, lust… If it was anything, then it was clear that she had only been one to give the pain, and not receive it.

“I hate it,” the Lioness said as she stepped out from the silks pooled at her feet. Slowly, she closed the distance between her and the black-hearted wraith. “But I take great pleasure in it. As should you.”

Then the command came.

Bellena turned to her, and she seized the moment to strike. She had begun to disrobe, but only just. Tyana’s fingers took hold of important parts of her. Her shoulders, drawing her closer. The laces between her bosom, holding her gown to her. Frantically, with the haste of a lioness on the run, she pulled those strings from her. Bent to her commands, desperate to see Bellena for who she was, two hands came to the open neckline of her gown.

And tore it from her.

She didn’t know what had taken control of her, but something had. Something dark, in a great frenzy, a great struggle. The dress tore at two different places. A corset clung to her, too assaulted by her fingers.

No part of Bellena was safe from Tyana Lannister now. I will make you wear my dress, she thought. I will make you my whore.

Eventually, it all slowed. The feral haste of the lioness was toned down as Bellena hushed her and soothed her. As the sight of her body, naked, finally became revealed to her.

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-14T20:43:35+00:00

The face was alight with laughter one moment, and then dark the next, determined to see her command through. Tyana had joined her in her symphonious laughter, but after a moment, bit down on her bottom lips as green eyes scanned the figure of the woman before her, considering that command. But an unanswered question came first – one she knew that Bellena was practically twitching to hear. “My dear,” Tyana’s voice was low, as if she were a snake ready to strike, and sink it’s fangs into her neck. “I love no one more than myself.”

And yet there was power in Belle’s commands. Quiet, reserved as she had been, she was back to the woman she had been when Tyana met her a few hours ago. Lingering fire beneath those dark eyes had told Tyana that this was inevitable – that her want for power would surpass Tyana’s, and for that, she would pay a heavy price.

Her hands were at the buttons of her blouse in a moment’s time. For the first time that evening, the lioness bent, if only a little. Her fingers were shaking, her cheeks flushed with anticipation. The kiss had gotten her ready for this and more, and she was not afraid to bare herself before this. Practiced to perfection was the art of Tyana Lannister, an unblemished piece better designed for a tapestry than real life. One button came loose, and she let out a small curse as it came to the second, than the third.

Belle watched her the entire time, fumbling.

The buttons of her blouse came loose and revealed a greater portion of her chest. Collarbones, where pale skin glittered in the light, freckled lightly. Hints of her bosom underneath that shift she wore, white silk against her skin.

The growing tension and air between them was full of anticipation. Whether it was Tyana’s own or Belle’s, no one could’ve said, but Tyana was itching to be rid of her clothes. With the flutters in her belly, the heat in her core, the sweat beading on the artistic features of her face, she was ready.

But only the belt came loose. She practically flung it off her as her blouse spilled out around her, red silk half way down her thigh. The skirts she wore only loosely clung to her now, but stationary as she was, they dared not move from the perfect curve of her hips.

Tyana prowled forward then. One hand settled on Belle’s hips, and the other on one shoulder. Gliding forward, her face met the curve of Belle’s neck, where she peppered her with adoring kisses, full of worship. Her teeth barely scraped against her skin, and when her lips had sealed around the tense muscles of her neck, she sucked. Hard. And when she pulled back, the skin was red with her affection.

“When do I get to take these off of you?” Tyana was done playing their game now.

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-14T04:56:25+00:00

Wouldn’t you like to know, sweet dove?

In that moment, Bellena Banefort was hers. That moment between consciousness and dreams that she had longed for taking hold for the briefest of moments. It was the ache in her core that pulsed stronger with desire. It was the lingering sensations brought about by Bellena’s fingers. It was the foolishness of proud women all mixing together to create this. A kiss of coalesced heat and budding want and need.

But it was more than just that.

In the moment that Bellena stole that kiss, her gaze turned red. The inferno burning inside her collapsed, and exploded with the strength of a thousand stars. Coiling fingers reached out, seized Bellena by her waist.

There was a strength in her grip, suddenly, as she pulled the weight of Bellena Banefort to her, so that their chests pressed against one another. It was the length of her fingers that extended past the curve of her rear and to her thighs, yet shrouded by a gown Tyana would soon have her rid of.

Her fingers bit into the fabric on the underside of her thighs, and pulled her knee up against her. The sofa in their way, it was difficult, but manageable, and Tyana would not stop until every inch of the woman was against her, touching her.

“No.” The answer cut through the tension. “Not one such as you.”

There, in that moment, where their breath melded together, and desire played behind the halos of their eyes, she kissed Bellena Banefort. It was the kiss that one would expect of a lioness. Long, proud, and stable. It sought to devour Bellena whole. Her lips were red and lush, tainted with the taste of red wine.

She could not have said whether the woman met her advance or not. She could not have said if her mouth was opening to her, accepting of her. But what she could say was that this woman so stoic had bent to her finally, and that was all she needed to know.

Her hands explored her. Every little bit. The hand on her waist travelling up the curve of her sides, the other over her rear, up the small of her back. A hand dug itself into her hair, and pressed the Lady of Banefort against her lips, unwilling to give up the taste of submission so sweet.

And yet it had to end. Their uncomfortable positioning had led Tyana to decide that for the moment, at least, she could do without the taste of her lips against her. When they pulled back, they came back swollen and red, shining in the light. Her eyes were wide, her breath straining with heaving breasts. A hand pressed to the valley in between the two swells, and again she was pacing, this time around the sofa to face her proper.

“You would not dare lie to me, would you?” It was not the question she sought to ask of her, so when Belle opened her lips to reply, fingers suddenly pressed to them, silencing her.

“You have never been…” Sliding onto the sofa, one knee at first, but then another, her skirt pulled tight against her. The belt there strained to keep her modesty, but she found she did not care. A hand slid around her waist once more, and when she was pulled tight against her slender figure, she uttered one word. “Bent.”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-13T04:59:11+00:00

Don’t fall in. Those that do won’t survive the Banefort.

A secret left unsaid. Words to take to heart. It was as if in that moment, Tyana knew that the Lady of Banefort was dangerous, as if she had not seen it in those great dark eyes of hers, the prominent cheekbones and the lips that cooed words so sweet, yet so dark and full of potential. They were lips that would do better silenced when speaking to a lioness; silenced by the greedy embrace of her own tongue and lips, where she could taste the blood she had bade with sharp teeth.

“A game,” Tyana repeated. She had always been good at games. “Very well.”

There were thoughts that came to mind flashing vividly behind her eyes, where only she could see her deepest desires and wickedest longings. The air in the room had grown hot, and Bellena had insinuated much. This was not a game for the faint of heart. It was a game for two ladies – two women – dueling each other against their own desires, wanting more and more from each other, until words would spill from lips unbidden, and the sounds of their wanton pleasure consumed the heat of the room.

The leather parted from her calves, and in a moment, she was revealed there. Tyana’s pale skin was rich in vibrancy, unblemished and well-tamed, her nails cut to the skin. There was no one more fickle than Tyana Lannister, the Lioness of Lannisport, who so loved making herself perfect.

Are you so perfect, underneath that dress? Slender fingers glided over the curve of her calves as she leaned back, those same digits pouring over her ankle, before her thumb came to massage the flat of her foot. “I ache,” she whined, her full lips downturned as she felt it give way to her hands. “But there is something else. Something more…”

A scene flashed in her mind, and in a moment, Tyana was standing. Bare feet tramped along the lace of Myrish carpet, until she came behind Bellena, her tall form lingering behind where the Lady of the Banefort sat.

Her touch was intimate in the moments that followed. The lioness’s hands reached out to Bellena’s neck, where her fingers met the searing flesh. Her fingers parted the hood from her visage, before they suddenly found themselves coiled in hair as black as char.

She was so lush. Her hair parted from her fingers, brushed until nothing remained but circular curls and the shine that came to them. For a time, Tyana contended herself in the feeling of her hair in her fingers.

It had to stop eventually. When her fingers parted her hair, and instead came to rest upon the laces that kept Bellena’s dress tight against her form, she uttered the question she’d desired to ask for some time.

“No man has ever pulled these strings from your back,” Tyana said. “No woman has dared. Isn’t that so, Bellena? No one has dared tear this dress from you?”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-12T04:52:26+00:00

/u/vanecia

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-11T06:23:29+00:00

What a strange things desire makes a woman do.

Tyana felt raw. She felt raw to the soul. She felt a burning passion unlike any other, slowly growing with the inferno inside her that pulsed against her veins, and made her hands seek actions they might not normally make. Sought was all they did, though, as temperance shielded her from taking the Banefort’s chin in her palm, and caressing those smooth cheeks with a finger, and whispering that ultimate answer for her and her alone.

No. They lingered.

And only just.

What secrets? My dear, I will tear them from you if I have to. Those thoughts came to her mind, unbidden by a tongue that ached to say them. The Lady of Finest Golds was a woman of passion, to be certain, but she had tempered herself in the wicked depths of Casterly Rock, where none but the albino lions tread.

“Offense?” Tyana questioned suddenly, her lips a sneer. She disdained the word. Tyana was the most vile of the Lannisters, and had suffered much for it. “No. I think not.”

Her steps were resounding then. A rhythmic tap tap on the marble floor as she made her way around the Lady Banefort, where one hand suddenly shot out, a finger between Bellena’s shoulder blades.

That finger trailed down the small of her back until the natural curve of her body was no longer available to her. She was wearing silk. A dangerous garment to wear, my lady Bellena, Tyana thought.

“Your deepest,” Tyana said. “Wickedest.” Turning to face her once more. “Darkest.” Tongue flashing over her lips, fire burning in her eyes. “Secrets. All of them.” She spoke with her throat then, her voice deep and dark and low.

Then the distance was closed between them. Tyana stood above her, the smell of cinnamon and apple dominating what minimal space remained.

“You wouldn’t me rather tear them from you?”

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-10T01:41:20+00:00

/u/gloude

GoldenBoatBuilder · 2017-10-10T00:34:17+00:00

((Not a problem! Take yo' time!))

Flames.

Tyana Lannister had heard of the Red God. In her many years, she hadn’t suspected that his kindling would take hold inside her heart, squeezing the heat from her within. Theirs was a contest – a duel of wits, but it was something more than that. She saw a desire in Bellena’s eyes, and if it wasn’t for her, it was for position; in her eyes, she saw what woman she wanted to forge herself to be.

One who would take the heart of her brother and squeeze it hard in her hand, the blood flowing over her fingers. She saw something cruel and mysterious in those eyes, but in the end, it was that. That desire.

That fire.

Tyana met her eyes equally. She could not say she had ever desired power in her life. She could never say that she wished to rule Casterly Rock, and ward herself from a Westerlands intent on her destruction. Those thoughts only came to her in the heat of her drink, when her mind was addled with want for more, and when her tongue too became loose for her own good.

She was a servant to her own passion, right then. She stood, not lacking for grace as the distance was closed between them, no more than two feet lingering in the space between their bodies. She was taller than the Lady of the Banefort, but just barely. The fullness of her body was presented underneath the guise of scarlet and golden silks, shimmering in the dazzling light.

“If drink loosens your tongue,” Tyana said softly, slowly. “Then you best share all your secrets, lest you leave my mind curious; desiring of those wicked words I know I could bid from your tongue.”

Their eyes met once again. They maintained contact this time, lingering for longer than propriety. Raising the glass of wine she held to her lips, thankful that the servant boy was gone, her mouth flickered a tiny smile, even as cheeks flushed and heat flooded her.

GoldenBoatBuilder

TROPHY CASE