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[unapparent]

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@hightower

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[forzare]

[ Her hands are damaged, and whatever she wants to do with them, Harry exists in that moment as the clay she can mold.

He stands still, spine hooked down and toward her like an overlarge weed straining for a source of light. An offer in his mouth, that ultimately is for her to take or throw away. She's the one who got yelled at, sharp and accusatory, and she's the one now holding it together — a real lady of the court, her power soft and silent. Easily stolen from her by others. He's a man, tall and broad and brimming with raw firepower and he isn't entirely able to understand her place.

There's a few things he does understand, though. Enough to note the stiffness returning to her, and to not press her further. ]

Maybe you can teach me a few things, after this horrorshow is over.

[ He's not above learning from a woman, learning things that aren't fighting with fist and fire. ]

I'll do my part, too.

[unapparent]

[ There and gone and back again: Alicent blinks as she returns to herself, eyes flickering to Harry’s sweet face. Different from the sharp-eyed gaze of Larys Strong, to be sure. Concerned for her and the others who might be endangered, but not protective to the point where she has no agency of her own. Indeed, none of her allies intervened when she faced Alina and Paul.

She releases his wrist, only to reach for his face, the briefest touch at his cheek. ]

I’d like that.

[ teaching him and learning from him both, even if she’s hopeless in a physical fight. warmly, then — ] Thank you, Ser Harry. I hope the morrow is kinder to us both.