Perhaps. [ Rhaenyra's mouth purses, tellingly, with the effort to hide a broader grin; she has no reason to doubt where Daemon's loyalties lie now, even if such a surety had not always been present between them. She certainly has not forgotten the display of strength and fealty that he'd given her at Harrenhal, swearing the armies he had assembled to fight under her banners.
But this, now, between them has more to do with extending a suggestion and determining how he'll respond to it — whether he'd even permit her to restrain him for the benefit of symbolism. She can hear his hum of consideration where their heads are tucked close together, and she can practically hear his smirk along with it, which is what leads her to slide a hand over his front before tucking two fingers underneath his belt, establishing a snagging grip. ]
Māzīs, Daemon.
[ If he is to be her dragon, and ridden as such, she will command him like one, maneuvering him over to the bed and then gently shoving him back onto the mattress before climbing atop him. His shirt, she makes quick work of, stripping it away, and then reaches for his belt again. The reason for acquiring it will become clear when she orders him to give her his right hand, then his left, crossing his arms at the wrists up above his head. Her gaze frequently darts down to his face as she begins to loop the belt around his joined wrists, securing them to the headboard. It's not the tightest knot — he could easily free himself, if he attempted escape — but the purpose is for him to stay bound, body invitingly stretched taut, so she can use him to her liking.
Once he's been restrained, Rhaenyra pauses, sitting back in a straddle across his hips, and reaches for the ties keeping the bodice of her dress closed, slowly drawing them out one at a time. ]
I do hope your thirst for vengeance has been sated now. For if you get yourself killed again, I will ensure you're brought back to life so I can make you regret it.
no subject
But this, now, between them has more to do with extending a suggestion and determining how he'll respond to it — whether he'd even permit her to restrain him for the benefit of symbolism. She can hear his hum of consideration where their heads are tucked close together, and she can practically hear his smirk along with it, which is what leads her to slide a hand over his front before tucking two fingers underneath his belt, establishing a snagging grip. ]
Māzīs, Daemon.
[ If he is to be her dragon, and ridden as such, she will command him like one, maneuvering him over to the bed and then gently shoving him back onto the mattress before climbing atop him. His shirt, she makes quick work of, stripping it away, and then reaches for his belt again. The reason for acquiring it will become clear when she orders him to give her his right hand, then his left, crossing his arms at the wrists up above his head. Her gaze frequently darts down to his face as she begins to loop the belt around his joined wrists, securing them to the headboard. It's not the tightest knot — he could easily free himself, if he attempted escape — but the purpose is for him to stay bound, body invitingly stretched taut, so she can use him to her liking.
Once he's been restrained, Rhaenyra pauses, sitting back in a straddle across his hips, and reaches for the ties keeping the bodice of her dress closed, slowly drawing them out one at a time. ]
I do hope your thirst for vengeance has been sated now. For if you get yourself killed again, I will ensure you're brought back to life so I can make you regret it.