[ She looks over at him again and this time he's so much closer. She can clearly see the deep brown of his eyes and there's a surprising gentleness in them.
Her mouth feels dry and she licks at her lips without thinking about it, ]
I would stand watch with an arahk in hand to ensure you are undisturbed.
[That would mean he would witness her nakedness. Though that is not what he focuses on, not out loud. The fine garbs of the Summer Sea and Westerlands are fitted but there is so much more to imagine beneath. Frank hasn't been a man long on imagination or words. This might be the longest conversation he has had in sometime.]
If that is what you wish.
[The most important condition. Frank leans even closer, the bristle of groomed hair along his jaw is close enough to graze her skin. Just a little. You cannot rush these things. Realizing just how near he has become, he balls his hand into a fist and gently eases a step back.]
[ She has to turn away when he leans closer, moving away once more. She feels slightly out of breath; as if she had almost lost herself in such a moment. And with a man she just met. As if there was some sort of pull between them.
She swallows hard and remembers the cup in her other hand. She drains it as she continues walking, asking afterward: ]
[They mock him as they bounce and move out of his reach.]
Francis, son of Giulia Castle and Khal Jakah.
[Which...isn't exactly a house or a name. In most circumstances he would be a Sand. The laws of Dorne and friendships have deemed him to be heir to the old and loyal house. So minor, would a Lannister even hear of it?]
[As a matter of fact. He walks closer to water's edge. It really is crystalline. Looking at it makes him wonder how her eyes would compare. It'd be best if they were side by side.]
[ Her face may not give him much but her tone does. ]
"Ways"? Like raping and pillaging?
[ Is she being disrespectful? Most likely. She's in no position to be looking down on anyone. But she doesn't condone of such "ways". She never has. And niceties be damned if she's expected to hold her tongue on it. ]
[ She is less than pleased by that answer, her silent anger practically crackling in the air as she turns back the way they came and marches past him. He can use such words all he wants. But she doesn't see it as anything to be proud of. It was bad enough with lords from the Rock thought they could just use women and cast them aside. The stories she has heard of the Dothraki were deplorable, to say the least. ]
[He half turns, watching her become less of a woman and more of a storm.]
You think that is all that is done? No. It is not. Not any more. Not since the ascension of the queen.
[Which is all he shall say on the matter. Every son has a mother. And His birth into this world did not come from force or conquest. It would have been more simple if it had been.]
None dare to partake now for fear of dragons. They can outrun horses, you know.
You answered with an answer that was not actually an answer!
[ She's so frustrated and offended she doesn't realize she's heading down the wrong path. And before she knows it, is getting an eye-full of a couple... enjoying each other on the grass under a canopy of palms. She stops short and covers her mouth, dropping her cup. ]
[Short. Simple and--? Oh. Frank catches her arm and looks over her shoulder. He takes in the scene with less shock. The man is on his knees, his lady has her skirts drawn up like a curtain for their pleasure. Her loose silken gown spilling open at the neckline.
She startled and then eyes Karen and Frank. A laugh crackles from her and breaks into a moan.]
[ She would've argued that she insulted his people - and for good reason - but she's too much in a state of shock to even continue that train of thought at the present.
'Oh Gods' is muffled into her hand before she's bowing her head to them, not even able to look and her cheeks and ears flushed from embarrassment at the laughter. ]
Forgive me -- I didn't mean to intrude...!
[ And she's turning and taking off again, pulling herself from Frank's grasp. This time she's running, skirts pulled up enough to allow her to do so. ]
[Are we all the people who came before us? The company we keep? Is that who we are for certain? Her own family cast her out. His people have done wrongs. Grievous wrongs. His father? Well, he did bring Frank Castle into the world. Thus far it hasn't proved to be a good and wonderful deed. All of that is on the back burner.
He looks away from the scene, eye following the flurry of red and gold.]
My lady--?
[She's blushing. Honestly blushing. Like it is a shameful thing to come upon. Like she's--.]
Hmmm.
[He stoops to get her glass of wine a few droplets marking the stone, red as blood and embarrassment.]
[ When she's no longer wrapped up in her own opinions about the world, she might be able to see beyond them. See things from a different side. But for now, she's far too busy trying to get back to the palace. Intent on going up to her room, party be damned, and lock herself in there for the rest of her days.
Or at least until she can say maybe those involved have forgotten.
She gets as far as the steps and trips midway, her knees connecting to stone and one of her shoes falling three steps down. The pain bites and throbs and she hisses out, trying to push herself back up, ]
[The environment doesn't loan itself to be one of acceptance. Yes, she is in a new world and a new place... it is not quite sure of what to make of her either. Frank follows her retreat at a steady pace. He's not chasing her, just following and wondering what exactly is going on in her head.
(Besides the fact that she is a maiden still.) Rounding the corner through a curtain of foliage, he sees the flurry of fabric and finally breaks into a faster pace, not fast enough to stop her fall. In a moment's time he is kneeling beside her.]
Be still a moment.
[Because the stone is hard and her body is soft. No need to cause more damage moving quickly.]
[ Her embarrassment spikes again when he's beside her again but it's not like she can get up and run away. So she stays where she is and shakes her head, not looking at him but her voice not anywhere as harsh as before. ]
I do not know.
[ They are but not profusely. Just scrapes. The bruises to her bones hurt far more. ]
[Frank is a gentleman and does not move aside her skirts to examine any damage. He's not a Maester. His expression is serious.]
Let me take you to a Maester.
[Now fully aware that she is unwedded, untouched and a Northern lady he stays crouched without a hand on her. While he could change the request to something more elegant he's at least considering her boundaries and honor. He can't carry her around like a doll. Yet.]
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Her mouth feels dry and she licks at her lips without thinking about it, ]
I...I wouldn't feel safe out here, doing that.
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[That would mean he would witness her nakedness. Though that is not what he focuses on, not out loud. The fine garbs of the Summer Sea and Westerlands are fitted but there is so much more to imagine beneath. Frank hasn't been a man long on imagination or words. This might be the longest conversation he has had in sometime.]
If that is what you wish.
[The most important condition. Frank leans even closer, the bristle of groomed hair along his jaw is close enough to graze her skin. Just a little. You cannot rush these things. Realizing just how near he has become, he balls his hand into a fist and gently eases a step back.]
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She swallows hard and remembers the cup in her other hand. She drains it as she continues walking, asking afterward: ]
You would do this for a stranger?
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Are we truly strangers?
[Because it doesn't feel that way. There is an energy between them. Surely that was what drew his gaze to her. And the rest? Is it fated?]
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Yes, we are. I don't even know your name. I don't know your house, your family, where you come from...
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Francis, son of Giulia Castle and Khal Jakah.
[Which...isn't exactly a house or a name. In most circumstances he would be a Sand. The laws of Dorne and friendships have deemed him to be heir to the old and loyal house. So minor, would a Lannister even hear of it?]
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"Khal"? Like the Dothraki?
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[As a matter of fact. He walks closer to water's edge. It really is crystalline. Looking at it makes him wonder how her eyes would compare. It'd be best if they were side by side.]
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And do you live as a Dothraki?
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In my youth, yes. My father wanted me to see the ways of our people. Maybe he hoped I would take up the khalasaar when he passed.
[Just the facts.]
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"Ways"? Like raping and pillaging?
[ Is she being disrespectful? Most likely. She's in no position to be looking down on anyone. But she doesn't condone of such "ways". She never has. And niceties be damned if she's expected to hold her tongue on it. ]
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Like riding with my blood in a storm of hooves. Like living in an ocean of grass. Like earning every knot in my braid.
[He does not confirm or deny any of what she is accusing.]
I am also Dornish by blood and heart.
[And owe no explanation or apology.]
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You think that is all that is done? No. It is not. Not any more. Not since the ascension of the queen.
[Which is all he shall say on the matter. Every son has a mother. And His birth into this world did not come from force or conquest. It would have been more simple if it had been.]
None dare to partake now for fear of dragons. They can outrun horses, you know.
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Do not talk to me as if I am stupid!
[ If anything, she's mad enough to throw her cup right as his head (though she's certain she would miss). ]
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[He stays still a moment before walking after.]
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[ She's so frustrated and offended she doesn't realize she's heading down the wrong path. And before she knows it, is getting an eye-full of a couple... enjoying each other on the grass under a canopy of palms. She stops short and covers her mouth, dropping her cup. ]
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[Short. Simple and--? Oh. Frank catches her arm and looks over her shoulder. He takes in the scene with less shock. The man is on his knees, his lady has her skirts drawn up like a curtain for their pleasure. Her loose silken gown spilling open at the neckline.
She startled and then eyes Karen and Frank. A laugh crackles from her and breaks into a moan.]
They could use a guard, no?
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'Oh Gods' is muffled into her hand before she's bowing her head to them, not even able to look and her cheeks and ears flushed from embarrassment at the laughter. ]
Forgive me -- I didn't mean to intrude...!
[ And she's turning and taking off again, pulling herself from Frank's grasp. This time she's running, skirts pulled up enough to allow her to do so. ]
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He looks away from the scene, eye following the flurry of red and gold.]
My lady--?
[She's blushing. Honestly blushing. Like it is a shameful thing to come upon. Like she's--.]
Hmmm.
[He stoops to get her glass of wine a few droplets marking the stone, red as blood and embarrassment.]
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Or at least until she can say maybe those involved have forgotten.
She gets as far as the steps and trips midway, her knees connecting to stone and one of her shoes falling three steps down. The pain bites and throbs and she hisses out, trying to push herself back up, ]
Fuck!
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(Besides the fact that she is a maiden still.) Rounding the corner through a curtain of foliage, he sees the flurry of fabric and finally breaks into a faster pace, not fast enough to stop her fall. In a moment's time he is kneeling beside her.]
Be still a moment.
[Because the stone is hard and her body is soft. No need to cause more damage moving quickly.]
Are you bleeding?
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I do not know.
[ They are but not profusely. Just scrapes. The bruises to her bones hurt far more. ]
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Let me take you to a Maester.
[Now fully aware that she is unwedded, untouched and a Northern lady he stays crouched without a hand on her. While he could change the request to something more elegant he's at least considering her boundaries and honor. He can't carry her around like a doll. Yet.]
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No, I'm fine. I just--I want to go back to my room.
[ Adding, bitterly, ]
I've made a fool of myself enough already.
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