meme #004 | slow-dancing ( think outside the boxstep )

[the]

slow dancing ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ a meme → COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME, FANDOM, AND PREFERENCE. → PICK A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO TAG AND GO FOR IT. → PLAY NICE; NO WANK, FLAMES, OR GENERAL HUMBUGGERY. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ the deal FORMAL OR INFORMAL, WITH MUSIC OR WITHOUT, YOU COULD BE AT A GLAMOUROUS GALA WHILE A SINGER CROONS SOFTLY OR IN THE SILENCE OF YOUR OWN LIVING ROOM. WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOU HAVE THE URGE TO DANCE. DID YOU ASK YOUR PARTNER OR DID THEY ASK YOU? HAVE YOU GOT TWO LEFT FEET OR IS THE VIENNESE WALTZ YOUR JAM? IT COULD BE AWKWARD, IT COULD BE ROMANTIC. EITHER WAY IT'S CUTE AS HELL.

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all the jeynes

[northerner]

[ it's a homecoming. it's a welcome, it's winterfell at it's best but it's nothing like home. robb supposes this is how things were done once, so very long ago, but it's all strange and foreign to him, and he feels the crown so very strongly now, even though it's been so very long since he spun it round and round upon his curls.

but she's smiling, his lady wife, and he smiles back, pleased at her happiness. if she is content, then surely this cannot be all bad. ]

Would you like to dance, my love?

[ even if robb doesn't know the steps... ]

aww yis

[winterswife]

[it is still nothing like she expected, it's true. and yet here she is, and it is stranger still. she can tell he's uncomfortable and her hand quietly goes to his arm, clasping it reassuringly for a moment before she looks up at his proposal.

and for a moment it is once again the two of them in a room much like a sickbed and there is no one but them and her smile turns into a grin.]

I would, ser. I have not danced in quite a long time and I would have no other partner. [or another man. it will always be a bit strange, surrounded by wolves when she was only a shell on the shore. she slides her hand down to his hand and clasps it, squeezing encouragingly. her voice is warm as she grabs his other hand, stepping back a little as she smiles. ]

Dance with me, Robb. It does not have to be fast. [this doesn't have to go fast. we can take this slowly. all of it. and i will be here, though how it does good i still can't believe.]

[northerner]

[ it grows easier, day by day. the language of her body is not such a mystery to him, and reading her face grows easier as the weeks pass. someday he will know her as well as his lord father knew his lady mother, or so he hopes. and may things always be so easy between them, may they always be able to tug on each others hearts with such simple words.

he will never grow tired of her smile. it will never cease to delight him, watching her lips curve up in happiness. ]

If you bid me dance, then who I am to refuse the queen?

[ as if he is not king. he laces his fingers through hers, lets her pull him to his feet ( a puppy on a leash, a bird on a string, and he is the happier for it, so attached as he is to her and her happiness ) and further, along to the floor where the dancers whirl in time. ]

[winterswife]

[she even laughs, a quiet laugh it may be, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners. ]

Who indeed, but her king? [jeyne doesn't tire of learning more of him. in fact each time she discovers something new she smiles quietly when alone and stores it in herself, earnest to please--to have him smile when he would. she wants to make him smile, to hear him laugh--to love him.

it isn't a chore to jeyne to be his wife. learning about him and staying at his side have become treasures to her that she would not trade for warmer weather, or a simpler life, though she is quite certain it would fit her better. jeyne does not feel like much of a queen often, though she does the courtesies, smiles when it is needed and is so gentle she is called soft. warm.

as he laces her fingers through hers she peeks up at him from steady brown eyes, continuing to smile. jeyne pulls him towards the floor with a gentle hand. she pulls back, facing him as she dips into a curtsy, a spark of excitement in her face, her eyes. it is easier now to be open to him as much as it is to notice himself opening up to her.

her voice is light, and almost as if she has read his mind: ]

I confess I do not know all of the proper steps, my lord. So it might be a bit different. [and she looks a little mischievious at that.]