dearbrucebanner replied to your post: dearbrucebanner replied to your post:…
He chuckles along with her, “Well, I guess it can.”
“Would you like to?” She crawls across the bed within his reach.
Monthly Archives: October 2012
dearbrucebanner replied to your post: dearbrucebanner replied to your post:…
He shakes his head, “I feel like I have defeated your purpose in coming here,” he states.
Her chuckle is kind, inviting him to share her amusement. “Maybe not entirely, Bruce. I think it could be recaptured very easily.”
Lady Archer | @the-warrior-king
Involuntarily she looked up, hearing the movement of the other, and actually looked for the first time.
Poiters. The King’s favourite mount. And Henry the King.
A choked cry emerged from her mouth. Summer dropped to her knees, utterly heedless of anything else, and ducked her head. “Your Grace, I — ” Her throat closed up and words failed her. All she could do was wait for his wrath to descend on her, for her temerity in not recognising him immediately and in confessing such an unseemly emotion.
He stopped as he recognised her and he took a deep breath, as he stopped to look over at her.
“Lady Summer,” he said to her, and he saw her kneeling, and thought that she had fallen once again of her ankle, and he rushed to her, carefully picking her up. “You should not be riding with your ankle still unwell.”
“No, no please — don’t — Henry — ” As his name fell from her mouth Summer froze, certain that now, now his kindness would vanish like snow in summer, now she would be justly punished. Tears overflowed down her face, pulled to the surface by conflicting emotions.
Henry looked at her, worried that she no longer wanted him and he let go of her as they balanced from where they were standing, and his eyes fell to hers and he saw the tears on her face.
He should turn to leave, as he had that night, but once again his mind did not respond, and he moved and pressed his lips against hers again, pulling her closer to him.
His kiss was so familiar, Summer responded without thinking, swaying in to his body. For a long moment there was nothing but his mouth against hers and his arms holding her, and then memory stomped a hoof and she broke the kiss. “M-my lord?” It was hard to find the words, to shape them into her sudden apprehension. “My lord, were you in my rooms last night?”
dearbrucebanner replied to your post: dearbrucebanner replied to your post:…
“That I rather focus on a mind than a body, bodies are nice though, don’t get me wrong.” He laughs with a smile on his face. He then pulls out his glasses and puts them back on.
“Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?”
dearbrucebanner replied to your post: dearbrucebanner replied to your post:…
“Not as a project.” he objects, “I could be interested in your body. I am a more intellectual man though.” he chuckles.
“That’s one of the things I find so fascinating about you.” She’s not trying to seduce, now; it’s an honest admission, clear and open.
Lady Archer | @the-warrior-king
Involuntarily she looked up, hearing the movement of the other, and actually looked for the first time.
Poiters. The King’s favourite mount. And Henry the King.
A choked cry emerged from her mouth. Summer dropped to her knees, utterly heedless of anything else, and ducked her head. “Your Grace, I — ” Her throat closed up and words failed her. All she could do was wait for his wrath to descend on her, for her temerity in not recognising him immediately and in confessing such an unseemly emotion.
He stopped as he recognised her and he took a deep breath, as he stopped to look over at her.
“Lady Summer,” he said to her, and he saw her kneeling, and thought that she had fallen once again of her ankle, and he rushed to her, carefully picking her up. “You should not be riding with your ankle still unwell.”
“No, no please — don’t — Henry — ” As his name fell from her mouth Summer froze, certain that now, now his kindness would vanish like snow in summer, now she would be justly punished. Tears overflowed down her face, pulled to the surface by conflicting emotions.
dearbrucebanner replied to your post: dearbrucebanner replied to your post:…
He looks at the girl thoughtfully for a moment then cocks his head, “I never said that,” he points out.
“That’s true. Though you seem more interested in me as a … study project than anything else.” She runs a hand under her hair and pulls a long braid over her shoulder, the end of it coiling in her lap several times.
dearbrucebanner replied to your post: dearbrucebanner replied to your post:…
“Ahhhh,” he nods. “Clearer now, thank you for the clarification.” He laughs lightly.
She smiles, and this one is soft, regretful somehow. “That’s a no to my invitation then.” She picks up a dress from the side of the bed, pulling it on.
iamthefirechild replied to your post: iamthefirechild replied to your photo: Who do you…
Do you see that everyone? No attempts at denial. She knows she’s a slut.
The correct term is polyamorous.
No, the correct term is slut. Because I know someone who’s polyamorous and he is nothing like you. The way you are acting and the way he acts are two entirely different things.
Mmm, now who’s claiming to know someone after just a few minutes? Do you know my reasons for what I do?
I’m not claiming to know you, okay bitch? I’m looking at the evidence, which shows that you did that to nine different people, that I’m aware of. I don’t know how many more people you did it to, who all denied you for one reason or another. And at least seven of them are in a relationship, so you’re trying to get them to cheat on their significant others. That’s almost all of them. And then you claim to be polyamorous, which is insulting to my friend, who actually is polyamorous. So I think I would know what it means and how polyamorous people act. And guess what, he hasn’t actually hit on me once. Because he knows I’m married and he respects that. Unlike you.
So I don’t give a damn what your reasons are. You’re not polyamorous. You’re just a slut.
Is there a purpose to this … mmm … lecture? You want me to change, you want me to kill myself, you want me to admit to the error of my ways? You just like to hurt people?
That all just went right over your head. Why the fuck am I even trying with you. I’m just wasting my time. You’re still going to go try to sleep with people in relationships, try to get them to cheat, and then claim you’re doing it because you’re polyamorous. I’ll be watching for the day one of them decides you’re a nuisance and kills you. I’m rooting for it to be Loki.
*quietly* So you do want me to change. For what sounds like a fairly selfish reason. Did you even bother to notice that I accepted no for an answer without question?
Is it simpler to assume death would not be welcome to me?
Lady Archer | @the-warrior-king
She kissed him back, a low chuckle escaping her throat, then sighed happily and cuddled into her pillow, dropping into true sleep.
Summer woke the next morning still thinking the evening had been a dream. The weight of it lay heavily on her shoulders. She snapped at Bertha, shouted at the chambermaid until the girl cried, and finally stalked off in bristling anger and despair toward the stables. She flung herself ahorse as soon as she decently could, goading the animal into a gallop the moment they emerged from the castle gates. Surely no one would bother her out here.
She’d neglected to take into account Henry’s morning ride, though.
Henry was riding through the glens, thinking about how she had kissed him previously, he stopped by the lake and looked across the ocean deep in thought of it. He had felt so strange when she had kissed him back, not a strangeness that was unwelcoming – in fact, he enjoyed her lips against his.
He had not expected it, for he thought she was asleep and would not feel it. And that made him worry now, for what if she woke and wondered and knew if she had kissed him – though she had already betrayed her thoughts and he knew of them he did not know of his own thoughts.
Stepping off Poiters he made his way to the side of the lake and knelt down to take a drink, running some water through his hair as well.
Summer felt guilty when she came in sight of the lake. Petal wasn’t used to wild and fast rambles through the countryside the way Fireheart was. There was someone else there, she noticed, but if she didn’t speak to them, maybe they’d just dismiss her as a traveller and let her alone.
Dismounting, with care to her ankle, she led Petal to the verge to drink, pressing her face into the mare’s mane while she waited. “What am I going to do, my girl?” she murmured. “I can’t go back to Kent alone. Father’s determined to stay the season, so long as the King is here.”
Summer stepped away, keeping the reins looped in one hand, arms wrapped tight about herself. “I can’t bear to see him every day, feeling like this. Surely God is punishing me somehow,” she told the sky. “Sweet Henry, kind Henry, wise Henry, why must you hurt my heart so? To see you every day, and yet keep my heart a secret …”
Henry heard another come upon the lakeside, and he turned to look at Summer, he looked back down to the water and thought of how to leave without allowing her to see that it was him – and then she began to speak.
Once more she betrayed herself with her words, and he cursed the heavens to wonder how she could say such things so easily, when he could not even admit a simple thought to himself.
He stood up and went to Poiters, hopeful that she had not seen his face, but Poiters would be easy to recognise if she saw him in the stables.
Involuntarily she looked up, hearing the movement of the other, and actually looked for the first time.
Poiters. The King’s favourite mount. And Henry the King.
A choked cry emerged from her mouth. Summer dropped to her knees, utterly heedless of anything else, and ducked her head. “Your Grace, I — ” Her throat closed up and words failed her. All she could do was wait for his wrath to descend on her, for her temerity in not recognising him immediately and in confessing such an unseemly emotion.