[ Alicent drags her thumb along his pulse, soothing him or anchoring herself; she knows not. It is the most brazen sort of touch a courtly lady can manage with man.
The faint quirk of her mouth slips away as he speaks. Men always think they can fight their way to victory, don’t they? Her eyes flick to the left of him, mind elsewhere. ]
Perhaps.
[ Perhaps not. Alicent cannot imagine how clawing at her opponents would benefit her, when the true danger has never been physical. It manifests instead in the power men hold over her, strong enough that she has lied still as they took from her. What would twisting and scratching do, under Larys’ penetrating gaze? Nothing. ]
Thank you, Ser Harry. [ a touch stiff, as she returns to herself. ] It means a great deal to hear that from you.
cw: sexual assault / abuse
The faint quirk of her mouth slips away as he speaks. Men always think they can fight their way to victory, don’t they? Her eyes flick to the left of him, mind elsewhere. ]
Perhaps.
[ Perhaps not. Alicent cannot imagine how clawing at her opponents would benefit her, when the true danger has never been physical. It manifests instead in the power men hold over her, strong enough that she has lied still as they took from her. What would twisting and scratching do, under Larys’ penetrating gaze? Nothing. ]
Thank you, Ser Harry. [ a touch stiff, as she returns to herself. ] It means a great deal to hear that from you.
[ and it does, despite her fading warmth. ]