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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[dornishqueen]

[ they had not danced at their own wedding. ]

[ it had been a light hearted and warm affair, yes, but while the northerners reveled in the warmth of the hall and the food and the drink, she had sat with her hands folded in her lap and shivering with suppressed tears and cold. she had sat and sewed in her own fears and terrors, only to find them unreasonable, misplaced, and stupidly childish now that she reflected on them. ]

[ in hindsight, myrcella often wished she had given it a try; reached out to take his hand or perhaps looked less frigid, less scared so that he might have asked her. ]

[ but that was in the past. there was little time for dancing while ruling a kingdom, she had learned. little love of it while carrying children, either, for when her belly began to swell she could never get as close to him as she would have liked. her feet never liked to support her, and the prospect of trying to keep balanced and swaying at the same time sort of turned her off any desire to try. ]

[ by the time that their son's third name day comes to pass, however, the desire strikes her. the hall is crowded and loud, warm and this time she feels it and bustling. there are several pairs holding hands already, swaying or dancing around in a way that requires a large birth be given to them; one pair happens to be little lyanna and eddard, though she is mostly dragging him and he is mostly letting her. it's cute, and sweet, and it looks fun, so while she is weary from planning and greeting visitors, myrcella chances a glance at robb, shy at first though for no real reason. she has long since grown used to speaking to him, touching him, asking things of him and loving him. ]

[ so reaching out her hand to rest over his on the arm of his chair is nothing to concern herself with. ]

My love.

[northerner]

[ the kingdom grows strong. people say things are as they once were, when the wolves ruled the north, before they bent the knee to the dragons. and robb does not know how much truth there is to that, but his people are happy, and so he must not be doing such a poor job of kingship as he once feared her would.

they grow comfortable, he and his lady wife. she was so very much of the north now. it was her home, as much as it was his, and it brought him great joy to see her among his household, to see her smile at them and they smile back. it was as if she had come from here, not from the south at all. lioness once, perhaps, but she was a wolf now, wore the pendant he'd made for her around her throat, and robb was fond of kissing her nape everytime he removed it for her.

and there had been children. beautiful, sweet babies that robb loved so fiercely, more fiercely than he'd ever realized he was capable of. they were beautiful, so much of their mother in them, and yet he found himself there too. they were the best things he had ever done, the most perfect and beautiful things in this world, and he never tired of scooping them up, kissing them and telling them how much their lord father loved them, for he would never have them forget it.

her touch pulls his gaze from their children, and he turns his affectionate smile upon her, his beloved wife. this comes so easily now, loving each other and expressing it for all to see. it is second nature to catch her hand and bring it to his lips, smile against her fingertips as if just the touch of her hand makes him the happiest of men. ]

What is it, love?

[dornishqueen]

[ secretly, she is waiting for it to wear off - waiting for the northern winds to chill their hapliness, make it seem less exciting than it did the first time he had taken her out riding, less exciting than it still did now - six years, two children (a third soon growing inside her, she hopes) and the triumphant end of a war and settling of a kingdom later - when he called her love. ]

[ robb stark was not a man of an exuberant amount of words, and she's learned to cherish the ones he gives out. myrcella likes to think that each love is a frivolous, romantic song composed just for her, and that he has sung it to her thousand times over in different keys, a thousand different ways and on a thousand different instruments. she likes the soft ones he groans against her hair, and the crisp, calm ones he greets her with in the morning the best, but will take a song at any time and always reward it with a smile. ]

[ she smiles at him now, though it's small and contained; poorly done composure in the face of a whole hall of people who did not get to share in the same love for the king she had. not the same way she gets. but she smiles all the same amd brushes her thumb along his knuckles twice. ]

Would you dance with me?