ataraxion | ☩ ０１５．ＶＩＤＥＯ．

[His grin widens at the kiss--kisses are encouragement, but they are so much more than that, too, especially when they come from Lucrezia. She's told him time and time again about loving King Robb of the North, and so on, but that doesn't make her kisses any less sweet.]

Really. Do I inspire love in you?

A bit too much of it.

[ for robb stark, definitely. for her brother as well. but the truth is, not for her. she favors him greatly and on days like these when there is more sadness than joy in her blood, he does make her so happy. ]

That's all I want out of life.

[He tips his head a little, grinning at her, and reaches to brush just a bit of hair from her face.]

That, and maybe for you to kiss me again. Especially if it makes you smile.

But does it make you smile?

[ she tilts her head, lets him brush a lock of hair behind her ear ]

That would be the heart of my decision.

Ah, this is like a riddle.

[He draws himself up to answer, putting on a face of deep contemplation.]

Does kissing you make me smile? Or does inspiring love in you make me smile? Yes to both, always, because I like to make you smile. And if I like to make you smile, and that, in turn, makes me smile--who made who smile first? Who likes it more? Can't be settled.

A riddle inside a riddle then! And one can be solved but the other cannot.

[ she smiles, smiles brilliant and just a bit mischievous before she ducks around him. ]

but then I just made you smile by simply asking a question; perhaps kisses are not required?

[Oh no hang on kisses can't be not required. He quickly turns to follow her, in case she tries to get away with that suggestion.]

Well, let's not be too hasty. That was a smile, and it was well-earned, good for you--just the sound of your voice is enough to make me smile--but kisses make that smile even stronger. It's like-- the difference between a little cake and a large cake. A little cake is good--but why settle for a little, when you can have the larger one? The larger one will make you even more happy.

See, your kisses are like cake.

[ she chuckles because the metaphor is sweet and childish and it fits her, uplifts her mood easily and she turns to look at him. ]

won't too much cake become harmful, Sirius Black?

[Solemnly, he shakes his head.]

Your cake could never harm me. And if it could, then I'd die glutted and happy.

gluttony is a sin, Sirius Black!

[ and she smiles, steps forward to take his hands in hers ]

and you are in the presence of the Pope's daughter.

[He raises his eyebrows a little--it's difficult to look at all chastised when Lucrezia is so near, looking at him like that. He tugs at her hands a little, gently, turning them so he can press a kiss to her knuckles.]

The Pope's daughter. And who better to forgive me for my sins?

Then you shall ask for forgiveness and I will grant it.

[ she lifts her chin, looking all important. this is serious business, after all ]

[He lifts his chin as well, mirroring her, and he holds her hands a bit more formally, as if they have met in some church, as if she has descended from her throne to grant him forgiveness.]

Shall I kneel?

I fear that you must, to show great humility. And only then must you ask me to grant you such forgiveness.

[Immediately, without question, he drops to one knee. He's still got hold of her hand, and he holds it in both of his, reverently.]

Lucrezia. I beg of you, please, please please please please: grant me your forgiveness. I've been gluttonous in my love of you--but I can't help myself. Your love is so sweet. I can't possibly live without it, or you, so please, please forgive me.

[ she adores the dramatics. smiles for a moment but then clears her throat and offers him the palm he is not holding. ]

a kiss upon my palm and you shall be forgiven.

[He turns, obediently, and leans in to smack a kiss against her hand. And it is a smack, too, very exaggerated, before he leans away with a grin.]

Forgiven? Can I get a proper kiss now?

[ she does laugh at that, it cannot truly be contained. ]

define proper!

[Wordlessly, still on his knees, he taps a finger against his mouth.]

[ she smiles and drops to her knees in front of him so they are at eye level. ]

you expel all sadness, sirius black.

[ and her smile is bright yet gentle around the words because they are true. she traces the line of his jaw with a fingertip. ]

that is the true secret of your magic.

[ she should perhaps be worried, that she can be here on her knees and press a kiss to sirius black's lips that is not chaste but rather lazy and indulgent. she should be worried but she isn't, not really. that which is between them is their own. he is not her lover (is he?) more her - friend but more than that, too. he reminds her of the girl she was when she came to the ship and he pulls her out of the shadows and sparks something joyful in her.

he is not her lover.

(is he? ) ]

[The brush of her fingers makes him shiver, in the best way--the press of her mouth is even better still. She is good at kissing, and he likes kissing her--and it's all worked out rather perfectly between them (all kings and overprotective threatening brothers aside). That means, of course, that he has become rather more fond of Lucrezia than simply any friends-with-benefits relationship would warrant--but so what? He can't help that. She's wonderful.

So he kisses her back, matching her in its intent and weight, and when eventually they draw apart, he grins at her.]

But you're not going to tell anyone my secret, are you? It's only for you.

Do you trust me with such a secret?

[ she's smiling, rosy cheeks and breathless laughter on her lips and the question is rhetorical in every mean possible except there are things lucrezia asks merely because she wants to hear the answer. ]

[If a smile could be serious and heartfelt, this one would be, and he clutches at her hands, in an ardent grip.]

I trust you with all my secrets.

all of them!

[ her smile turns a bit smug and definitely very impish ]

tell me another, then.

Er--

[He screws up his face, in thought... and then pulls one hand free so he can snap his fingers.]

I once locked my professor in a broom cupboard. She never knew it was me--and in my defense, I didn't know she was in there--but then I couldn't just let her out once I'd realised what I'd done, because she'd have hung me up by my thumbs in the dungeon. So I just left her in there.

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mansuetus - 2014-01-27 16:19 (UTC) - Expand

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doggedly - 2014-01-27 17:25 (UTC) - Expand

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