niniane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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peopleofthedas2010-12-24 09:04 pm
niniane) wrote in peopleofthedas2010-12-24 09:04 pm
Ho, ho, ho...
Happy holidays!
So, as a kind of Christmas present, I decided to act as an anon!fail-Santa and fill a LJ kmeme prompt asking for a very naughty (and self righteous) Anora to get her due (spanking) from a rather irritated Santa (Alistair).
Yeah, yeah, I'm not as cute as I like to think I am. ;)
Words: ~3,000
Summary: Kind of PWP. Alistair gets fed up with Anora's behavior and spanks her.
Rating: Mature. Kinks...yeah, spanking. (Just in case you didn't have that figured out...)
Characters: Alistair/Anora
Power Play
“Please don’t speak to me like that in front of everyone,” Alistair said, just after he and Anora left the Landsmeet chamber.
Anora did not even bother to turn. She continued walking towards her private rooms. “When you learn to behave appropriately in public, I will have no reason to chastise you.”
Alistair caught up with her, desperate to get his wife to at least look at him. “Please, Anora,” he said. “I want to make this marriage work, and to do that, we need to talk about how you treat me in public.”
She spun around to glare at him. “When you stop carrying on with that Cousland girl, you can talk to me about making this marriage work.” She turned from him before he could get another word in and continued until she’d made it into her bed room.
Generally, Alistair did not intrude upon her private space unless specifically requested. But he could not stand being belittled and condescended to in public, so he opened the door and walked in before closing the door behind him.
“Look, Anora,” he said, trying to catch her attention. “We can’t go on like this. We really need to find a way to resolve our differences.”
She stopped fussing with the objects on her night stand and turned to him. “Look,” she said. “I think this marriage was a bad idea. You’re in love with someone else. You carry on with her in plain sight of the entire court. Beyond that, you both try to undermine me in the Landsmeet, often in ways that feel like they are motivated by nothing other than spite. I agree. We can’t go on like this. Especially as you are completely unwilling to change or confront your mistress in any way.”
Alistair did realize that he and Elissa had been less than subtle with their affections. And he did understand that there was something wrong about carrying on with one woman while being married to another. But still...
“It wasn’t spite that made me say that we should send an extra grain ration to the alienage, and you know it,” Alistair said, feeling his temper rise in a way that it rarely did. He might not have been trying to make this work, but neither was Anora. Besides, she had accepted that he would stay with Elissa when she’d agreed to this marriage. It was unfair of her to act now as though this was some kind of imposition on her when she’d agreed.
Then again, there was something appealing, perhaps even sexy, about how his and Elissa's continued relationship made Anora jealous. Somehow, up until now, he hadn't been under the impression that she'd cared.
“I told you that we don’t have the money for rations, and you know that,” Anora said, turning to storm out the door. Alistair grabbed her by the wrist before she could leave. This was the most they’d said to each other in private since the day they were wed, and he did not intend to let her get out of this conversation so easily.
“We could find it,” Alistair said. Her wrist felt surprisingly delicate in his hand. He thought that he could break it, just by squeezing hard enough. It was such a change from the calloused hands and sturdy limbs of his lover. “It might mean taxing trade just a bit more, or holding off on rebuilding the port at Gwaren. But we could find the money if we needed it.”
“That port is going to earn us a fortune once it’s built,” Anora said, her look saying that he knew nothing about running a kingdom. Which was true, although it was mostly in that she refused to help him learn. “Now let go of me.”
Alistair was considering dropping her hand and just letting this end, when he felt her pull away again. His grip tightened, and a second later, he felt sting against his cheek. Anora had just slapped him.
She raised her hand again, but this time he caught it before she could hit him a second time. He shifted his grip so that he was holding both of her hands.
“We’re going to talk about this like civilized people,” Alistair said, tightening his grip on both of her wrists. “And if you can’t do that, then I’m going to have to do something to teach you manners.”
He had thought that she might be able to calm down and see reason, but rather than do this, she continued to struggle against his grip. Then when he didn't let go, he felt another sting as she stepped down hard on his foot.
Something in him cracked. He held both of her wrists in one hand, and undid his belt with another. He spun her around, dragged her hands behind her, and tied them together with his belt.
“What in the Maker's name do you think you’re doing?” Anora demanded.
Alistair refused to answer her. He tugged her over to her bed, sitting heavily upon it, and dragging her down over his lap. He pulled up her skirt just a bit, and hooked a leg over hers to keep her from moving.
“Let go of me this instant,” Anora said, squirming against him. And while a part of Alistair’s mind wondered what he was doing in treating the queen like a spoiled child, another part of him felt her wriggling against him and was peculiarly aroused. He leaned over to raise her skirt, and saw, for the first time, her long, shapely legs. He was accustomed to Elissa’s sturdy, muscular limbs. But Anora’s were entirely different. Long, but with curves in the right places, and covered in soft white skin. Alistair thought for a second how it would feel to have those wrapped around him as he plunged into her…
But, no. He wasn’t here to have sex with Anora. He was here to teach her to behave herself. He pulled her skirt up until it was rucked about her waist, then pulled down her lacy smalls. He wondered why he hadn’t previously noticed how firm and round her buttocks were. He let his hand run over them, squeezing at the warm flesh just a little.
“Is this your idea of foreplay?” Anora demanded, trying yet again to squirm out of his grasp. He tightened his grip on her just to raise his hand and slap her on the butt. She made a sharp sound in the back of her throat, at which point he hit her again.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” she said, although it sounded as though she was panting. With exertion or with something else? Alistair ran his hand from the small of her back down her flank, to her sex. He wriggled his fingers through the soft folds of her flesh and found that his fingers came back damp.
“You like this, don’t you?” Alistair asked, somewhat surprised by the realization. She only previously consented to have sex with him in the dark, her body lying motionless under his while he thrust on top of her. His attempts to give her some pleasure in the experience had been met with disdain and complaints to just get it over with.
“If you think that this puerile act of aggression is having any effect on me other than making me angry, you're stupider than even I gave you credit for ,” Anora said, trying yet again to escape from his grasp.
But now that he knew that she was actually enjoying this, he intended to make the most of it. He raised his hand again and slapped her several more times, as she whimpered and squirmed beneath him, as he alternated blows with gentle strokes and caresses.
Unfortunately his hand was getting sore. Alistair paused to caress Anora, moving his fingers between her thighs and watching as she whimpered as he stroked her. “Do you like this?” he asked, pushing a finger into her and crooking it against the warm walls of her sex.
She managed to make out, between gasps, “No!”
She whined at he withdrew the hand. What would it take to get her to agree with him on anything? He spotted her hairbrush, neatly lying on a side table. Maybe a few more spanks? He picked it up with his right hand, and ran the cold metal over the curve of her thighs and buttocks. Maker, how had he not previously noticed how absolutely perfect they were? He raised the brush and brought it down, hard.
“Ow!” she said, although she moved so that her backside was raised even further in the air. He brought the brush down again, and she gave a gasp that could have been either pain or pleasure. He struck her a few more times.
“Are you willing to at least talk about our differences?” Alistair asked.
“Never!” Anora said, although she was panting hard. For good measure, he hit her one last time.
If she wasn’t going to behave herself just because he hurt her, perhaps he could win by pleasure? Maker knew that he didn't particularly want to hit a woman, although something about doing it this time made him feel something.
What? More self-assured than he had felt even after Elissa had told him that he needed to look out for himself? More powerful than when he had dealt the final blow to Branka? Alistair put the brush back on the table and moved his hand between her thighs. He didn't think that he could do this if she had seemed genuinely hurt, but instead her reactions were...complex. Fury mixed with something deeper and appealing in a way that thrummed through his nerves. He ran a finger along the slit of her sex. She was even wetter than he remembered. He pushed a finger into her, and moved it, rocking his hand against her.
“Oh Maker,” Anora whimpered, her hips rocking against his hand. Her face was contorted in a way that he’d never seen on her. He hadn't known that she could look like this, feel like this, smell like this. She wriggled in his lap, the curve of her stomach brushing against his erection. A bit of her hair had come undone, and it took all his power not to undo her braids and bury his face in it, breathing in her scent as he lowered his breeches and thrust into her. He didn't know that he'd have the will power to torment her for much longer. He sped the pace, hoping to get her there sooner, just to feel her clench about his hand. He withdrew it before she could climax.
“Maker damn you,” she said, as he stroked down her back.
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Alistair said, enjoying the change in dynamics between the two of them enough that he managed to resist the desire to throw her on the bed and have her right there. He could wait. He could ignore his urge to have her with his need to see her beg for it. He moved a finger to the soft, damp skin between her thighs and stroked gently, watching her writhe.
Anora whimpered again. “Just get it over with, you bastard,” she said. Her face was clenched, and she was breathing heavily enough that it seemed hard for her to get the words out.
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Alistair said. Despite that his breathing had sped, he knew that he could outlast her. He was going to win this one, even if every nerve in him demanded that he break first. “Tell me that you want me.”
“Maker damn you,” Anora whimpered. He returned his hand to her buttocks, letting it drift so that it just touched her sex. He swirled a finger about her, listening to her gasp before she admitted, “I want you?”
He let the finger move about the outside of the sex, caressing her inner lips. “Beg for me,” Alistair said.
Anora whimpered, her hips moving against his hand, her back tight against the arm that he used to pin her to his thighs. “Please?”
It wasn't perfect, but it was enough, and he'd lost any will to resist.
Alistair let her go, and pushed her body across the bed. She wriggled her fingers, trying to free them from the restraint. But he liked her just the way she was, so as soon as she'd freed them, he leaned over pinned her hands to the bed, using his other to free his aching member. He stroked her sex one more time, running his finger along the folds, then licking her taste off him, just before he pushed himself into her, and heard himself gasp as she enveloped him.
He thrust into her again and again, letting her hands go so that he could grip about her waist to hold her to him. Not that he needed to. She met every thrust, and continued whimpering as he curved his body about hers.
“Tell me that you’re enjoying this.” She smelled clean and feminine and like no one he’d been with before.
“Cailan was better,” she said, although now that he'd let go of her hands, he could see that they were gripping her sheets hard enough that her knuckles were white.
He went still for a second, and heard Anora moan and attempt to move against him in turn.
“Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had,” Alistair growled into her ear, pushing into her hard enough that it jolted her head into the bedding, before stopping again, forcing her to wait, squirming against him in a futile attempt to get some kind of pleasure.
She whimpered again, and moved a hand to her groin. He pulled it away, and pinned it to the bed, his fingers gripping into hers hard enough to leave a
mark. “Tell me that I’m the best.”
Anora squirmed against him, before she choked out. “You’re the best I’ve had. Oh, Maker, Alistair, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He had barely found the willpower to, and began thrusting again as soon as he heard the words. She was warm and wet around him, her body was soft under him, and moving against his in unison. It was not much later when he felt her tense, whimper one last time, then go slack, just before he let himself go. He thrust a few last times into her body, just before he felt himself release, and relax over his wife’s shaking body.
When his breath slowed, he moved to hold her in his arms. She was softer than he would have thought from his experiences with Elissa, and had a surprising warmth. He raised a hand to her hair and slowly began undoing her long braids.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” Alistair asked.
Anora refused to turn to him, but he kept undoing both braids, until her hair was freed in a long cascade of golden waves. He picked up her brush from the night stand and began untangling it, enjoying the silken feel of the hair slipping between his fingers.
“I enjoyed myself, at least,” he said, leaning in to kiss her long neck.
She smelled especially nice there, and he let himself nuzzle her before he returned his attentions to that glorious hair. “Tell me you enjoyed yourself,” he said at last. He didn’t know that he’d be able to stand knowing that she’d hated an experience that was so intense for him.
“It was fine,” she said. Her voice had regained its earlier sharpness.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to talk?” Alistair asked. He so desperately wanted to have some kind of peace between himself and this beautiful creature who lay next to him in bed.
Anora shifted against him before sitting up, staring away from him. “I don’t think that we have anything to talk about, considering. What kind of marriage are we supposed to have when you’re always with that Cousland girl?”
Alistair sighed. He had known when he had agreed to keep on Elissa that it might come to this. It had been his concern, when he'd agreed to marry Anora. “I was with her before we got married.”
“I know,” Anora said. “And I don’t blame you for that. But don’t blame me for not wanting to care about someone who doesn’t care for me.”
He couldn't blame her, not really. In her position, he'd feel the same way. It was cruel to condemn this woman to a loveless existence, to use her as a political tool and a brood mare, while he carried on with someone he had no real hope of a future with. Alistair reached a hand out to touch her, but she had already managed to get off the bed, and was rearranging her skirts and walking towards the door.
“I think I could learn to care for you,” he said. Anora paused, her hand on the door.
“I think I could care for you as well,” she said, glancing back at him before looking away. She opened the door. “But I don't intend to let myself.” She walked through the door, and closed it behind her.
o:O:o
“I’m sorry,” Alistair said. He’d been practicing this in the mirror all morning, and still knew that he was going to get it all wrong. “But I just don’t think that this is going to work.”
“What do you mean?” Elissa asked. “I thought we loved each other. You said that we’d stay together, even after your marriage.”
“I know,” Alistair said. “But things change.” More than he would have thought. Even now, all he could think about was the feel of Anora’s hair in his hands as he caressed her, and the taste of her skin.
“But…but…we’re in love,” Elissa said.
“We were in love,” Alistair said. “But now I’m married to someone else, and carrying on with you just feels wrong.”
Elissa shook her head. “I just don’t understand,” she said at last.
“I don’t expect you to,” Alistair said. “But please accept that I’m moving on.”
He watched as Elissa storm out of the room. And while part of him was sad that they could not remain friends, another part of him wondered exactly how Anora would thank him tonight when he told her that her rival was now out of her life.
So, as a kind of Christmas present, I decided to act as an anon!fail-Santa and fill a LJ kmeme prompt asking for a very naughty (and self righteous) Anora to get her due (spanking) from a rather irritated Santa (Alistair).
Yeah, yeah, I'm not as cute as I like to think I am. ;)
Words: ~3,000
Summary: Kind of PWP. Alistair gets fed up with Anora's behavior and spanks her.
Rating: Mature. Kinks...yeah, spanking. (Just in case you didn't have that figured out...)
Characters: Alistair/Anora
Power Play
“Please don’t speak to me like that in front of everyone,” Alistair said, just after he and Anora left the Landsmeet chamber.
Anora did not even bother to turn. She continued walking towards her private rooms. “When you learn to behave appropriately in public, I will have no reason to chastise you.”
Alistair caught up with her, desperate to get his wife to at least look at him. “Please, Anora,” he said. “I want to make this marriage work, and to do that, we need to talk about how you treat me in public.”
She spun around to glare at him. “When you stop carrying on with that Cousland girl, you can talk to me about making this marriage work.” She turned from him before he could get another word in and continued until she’d made it into her bed room.
Generally, Alistair did not intrude upon her private space unless specifically requested. But he could not stand being belittled and condescended to in public, so he opened the door and walked in before closing the door behind him.
“Look, Anora,” he said, trying to catch her attention. “We can’t go on like this. We really need to find a way to resolve our differences.”
She stopped fussing with the objects on her night stand and turned to him. “Look,” she said. “I think this marriage was a bad idea. You’re in love with someone else. You carry on with her in plain sight of the entire court. Beyond that, you both try to undermine me in the Landsmeet, often in ways that feel like they are motivated by nothing other than spite. I agree. We can’t go on like this. Especially as you are completely unwilling to change or confront your mistress in any way.”
Alistair did realize that he and Elissa had been less than subtle with their affections. And he did understand that there was something wrong about carrying on with one woman while being married to another. But still...
“It wasn’t spite that made me say that we should send an extra grain ration to the alienage, and you know it,” Alistair said, feeling his temper rise in a way that it rarely did. He might not have been trying to make this work, but neither was Anora. Besides, she had accepted that he would stay with Elissa when she’d agreed to this marriage. It was unfair of her to act now as though this was some kind of imposition on her when she’d agreed.
Then again, there was something appealing, perhaps even sexy, about how his and Elissa's continued relationship made Anora jealous. Somehow, up until now, he hadn't been under the impression that she'd cared.
“I told you that we don’t have the money for rations, and you know that,” Anora said, turning to storm out the door. Alistair grabbed her by the wrist before she could leave. This was the most they’d said to each other in private since the day they were wed, and he did not intend to let her get out of this conversation so easily.
“We could find it,” Alistair said. Her wrist felt surprisingly delicate in his hand. He thought that he could break it, just by squeezing hard enough. It was such a change from the calloused hands and sturdy limbs of his lover. “It might mean taxing trade just a bit more, or holding off on rebuilding the port at Gwaren. But we could find the money if we needed it.”
“That port is going to earn us a fortune once it’s built,” Anora said, her look saying that he knew nothing about running a kingdom. Which was true, although it was mostly in that she refused to help him learn. “Now let go of me.”
Alistair was considering dropping her hand and just letting this end, when he felt her pull away again. His grip tightened, and a second later, he felt sting against his cheek. Anora had just slapped him.
She raised her hand again, but this time he caught it before she could hit him a second time. He shifted his grip so that he was holding both of her hands.
“We’re going to talk about this like civilized people,” Alistair said, tightening his grip on both of her wrists. “And if you can’t do that, then I’m going to have to do something to teach you manners.”
He had thought that she might be able to calm down and see reason, but rather than do this, she continued to struggle against his grip. Then when he didn't let go, he felt another sting as she stepped down hard on his foot.
Something in him cracked. He held both of her wrists in one hand, and undid his belt with another. He spun her around, dragged her hands behind her, and tied them together with his belt.
“What in the Maker's name do you think you’re doing?” Anora demanded.
Alistair refused to answer her. He tugged her over to her bed, sitting heavily upon it, and dragging her down over his lap. He pulled up her skirt just a bit, and hooked a leg over hers to keep her from moving.
“Let go of me this instant,” Anora said, squirming against him. And while a part of Alistair’s mind wondered what he was doing in treating the queen like a spoiled child, another part of him felt her wriggling against him and was peculiarly aroused. He leaned over to raise her skirt, and saw, for the first time, her long, shapely legs. He was accustomed to Elissa’s sturdy, muscular limbs. But Anora’s were entirely different. Long, but with curves in the right places, and covered in soft white skin. Alistair thought for a second how it would feel to have those wrapped around him as he plunged into her…
But, no. He wasn’t here to have sex with Anora. He was here to teach her to behave herself. He pulled her skirt up until it was rucked about her waist, then pulled down her lacy smalls. He wondered why he hadn’t previously noticed how firm and round her buttocks were. He let his hand run over them, squeezing at the warm flesh just a little.
“Is this your idea of foreplay?” Anora demanded, trying yet again to squirm out of his grasp. He tightened his grip on her just to raise his hand and slap her on the butt. She made a sharp sound in the back of her throat, at which point he hit her again.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” she said, although it sounded as though she was panting. With exertion or with something else? Alistair ran his hand from the small of her back down her flank, to her sex. He wriggled his fingers through the soft folds of her flesh and found that his fingers came back damp.
“You like this, don’t you?” Alistair asked, somewhat surprised by the realization. She only previously consented to have sex with him in the dark, her body lying motionless under his while he thrust on top of her. His attempts to give her some pleasure in the experience had been met with disdain and complaints to just get it over with.
“If you think that this puerile act of aggression is having any effect on me other than making me angry, you're stupider than even I gave you credit for ,” Anora said, trying yet again to escape from his grasp.
But now that he knew that she was actually enjoying this, he intended to make the most of it. He raised his hand again and slapped her several more times, as she whimpered and squirmed beneath him, as he alternated blows with gentle strokes and caresses.
Unfortunately his hand was getting sore. Alistair paused to caress Anora, moving his fingers between her thighs and watching as she whimpered as he stroked her. “Do you like this?” he asked, pushing a finger into her and crooking it against the warm walls of her sex.
She managed to make out, between gasps, “No!”
She whined at he withdrew the hand. What would it take to get her to agree with him on anything? He spotted her hairbrush, neatly lying on a side table. Maybe a few more spanks? He picked it up with his right hand, and ran the cold metal over the curve of her thighs and buttocks. Maker, how had he not previously noticed how absolutely perfect they were? He raised the brush and brought it down, hard.
“Ow!” she said, although she moved so that her backside was raised even further in the air. He brought the brush down again, and she gave a gasp that could have been either pain or pleasure. He struck her a few more times.
“Are you willing to at least talk about our differences?” Alistair asked.
“Never!” Anora said, although she was panting hard. For good measure, he hit her one last time.
If she wasn’t going to behave herself just because he hurt her, perhaps he could win by pleasure? Maker knew that he didn't particularly want to hit a woman, although something about doing it this time made him feel something.
What? More self-assured than he had felt even after Elissa had told him that he needed to look out for himself? More powerful than when he had dealt the final blow to Branka? Alistair put the brush back on the table and moved his hand between her thighs. He didn't think that he could do this if she had seemed genuinely hurt, but instead her reactions were...complex. Fury mixed with something deeper and appealing in a way that thrummed through his nerves. He ran a finger along the slit of her sex. She was even wetter than he remembered. He pushed a finger into her, and moved it, rocking his hand against her.
“Oh Maker,” Anora whimpered, her hips rocking against his hand. Her face was contorted in a way that he’d never seen on her. He hadn't known that she could look like this, feel like this, smell like this. She wriggled in his lap, the curve of her stomach brushing against his erection. A bit of her hair had come undone, and it took all his power not to undo her braids and bury his face in it, breathing in her scent as he lowered his breeches and thrust into her. He didn't know that he'd have the will power to torment her for much longer. He sped the pace, hoping to get her there sooner, just to feel her clench about his hand. He withdrew it before she could climax.
“Maker damn you,” she said, as he stroked down her back.
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Alistair said, enjoying the change in dynamics between the two of them enough that he managed to resist the desire to throw her on the bed and have her right there. He could wait. He could ignore his urge to have her with his need to see her beg for it. He moved a finger to the soft, damp skin between her thighs and stroked gently, watching her writhe.
Anora whimpered again. “Just get it over with, you bastard,” she said. Her face was clenched, and she was breathing heavily enough that it seemed hard for her to get the words out.
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Alistair said. Despite that his breathing had sped, he knew that he could outlast her. He was going to win this one, even if every nerve in him demanded that he break first. “Tell me that you want me.”
“Maker damn you,” Anora whimpered. He returned his hand to her buttocks, letting it drift so that it just touched her sex. He swirled a finger about her, listening to her gasp before she admitted, “I want you?”
He let the finger move about the outside of the sex, caressing her inner lips. “Beg for me,” Alistair said.
Anora whimpered, her hips moving against his hand, her back tight against the arm that he used to pin her to his thighs. “Please?”
It wasn't perfect, but it was enough, and he'd lost any will to resist.
Alistair let her go, and pushed her body across the bed. She wriggled her fingers, trying to free them from the restraint. But he liked her just the way she was, so as soon as she'd freed them, he leaned over pinned her hands to the bed, using his other to free his aching member. He stroked her sex one more time, running his finger along the folds, then licking her taste off him, just before he pushed himself into her, and heard himself gasp as she enveloped him.
He thrust into her again and again, letting her hands go so that he could grip about her waist to hold her to him. Not that he needed to. She met every thrust, and continued whimpering as he curved his body about hers.
“Tell me that you’re enjoying this.” She smelled clean and feminine and like no one he’d been with before.
“Cailan was better,” she said, although now that he'd let go of her hands, he could see that they were gripping her sheets hard enough that her knuckles were white.
He went still for a second, and heard Anora moan and attempt to move against him in turn.
“Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had,” Alistair growled into her ear, pushing into her hard enough that it jolted her head into the bedding, before stopping again, forcing her to wait, squirming against him in a futile attempt to get some kind of pleasure.
She whimpered again, and moved a hand to her groin. He pulled it away, and pinned it to the bed, his fingers gripping into hers hard enough to leave a
mark. “Tell me that I’m the best.”
Anora squirmed against him, before she choked out. “You’re the best I’ve had. Oh, Maker, Alistair, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He had barely found the willpower to, and began thrusting again as soon as he heard the words. She was warm and wet around him, her body was soft under him, and moving against his in unison. It was not much later when he felt her tense, whimper one last time, then go slack, just before he let himself go. He thrust a few last times into her body, just before he felt himself release, and relax over his wife’s shaking body.
When his breath slowed, he moved to hold her in his arms. She was softer than he would have thought from his experiences with Elissa, and had a surprising warmth. He raised a hand to her hair and slowly began undoing her long braids.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” Alistair asked.
Anora refused to turn to him, but he kept undoing both braids, until her hair was freed in a long cascade of golden waves. He picked up her brush from the night stand and began untangling it, enjoying the silken feel of the hair slipping between his fingers.
“I enjoyed myself, at least,” he said, leaning in to kiss her long neck.
She smelled especially nice there, and he let himself nuzzle her before he returned his attentions to that glorious hair. “Tell me you enjoyed yourself,” he said at last. He didn’t know that he’d be able to stand knowing that she’d hated an experience that was so intense for him.
“It was fine,” she said. Her voice had regained its earlier sharpness.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to talk?” Alistair asked. He so desperately wanted to have some kind of peace between himself and this beautiful creature who lay next to him in bed.
Anora shifted against him before sitting up, staring away from him. “I don’t think that we have anything to talk about, considering. What kind of marriage are we supposed to have when you’re always with that Cousland girl?”
Alistair sighed. He had known when he had agreed to keep on Elissa that it might come to this. It had been his concern, when he'd agreed to marry Anora. “I was with her before we got married.”
“I know,” Anora said. “And I don’t blame you for that. But don’t blame me for not wanting to care about someone who doesn’t care for me.”
He couldn't blame her, not really. In her position, he'd feel the same way. It was cruel to condemn this woman to a loveless existence, to use her as a political tool and a brood mare, while he carried on with someone he had no real hope of a future with. Alistair reached a hand out to touch her, but she had already managed to get off the bed, and was rearranging her skirts and walking towards the door.
“I think I could learn to care for you,” he said. Anora paused, her hand on the door.
“I think I could care for you as well,” she said, glancing back at him before looking away. She opened the door. “But I don't intend to let myself.” She walked through the door, and closed it behind her.
o:O:o
“I’m sorry,” Alistair said. He’d been practicing this in the mirror all morning, and still knew that he was going to get it all wrong. “But I just don’t think that this is going to work.”
“What do you mean?” Elissa asked. “I thought we loved each other. You said that we’d stay together, even after your marriage.”
“I know,” Alistair said. “But things change.” More than he would have thought. Even now, all he could think about was the feel of Anora’s hair in his hands as he caressed her, and the taste of her skin.
“But…but…we’re in love,” Elissa said.
“We were in love,” Alistair said. “But now I’m married to someone else, and carrying on with you just feels wrong.”
Elissa shook her head. “I just don’t understand,” she said at last.
“I don’t expect you to,” Alistair said. “But please accept that I’m moving on.”
He watched as Elissa storm out of the room. And while part of him was sad that they could not remain friends, another part of him wondered exactly how Anora would thank him tonight when he told her that her rival was now out of her life.
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I sort of see Anora a having a hard time admitting to much of any kind of feeling, so totally see her as being all "I won't tell you that I mind having Elissa around, but of course I'm jealous". Then when that comes out, poor Alistair is all guilt-trippy. (As he's bound to be, really, poor guy...)
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Unless it's a scenario like: http://da-tentparty.dreamwidth.org/925.html?thread=118429#cmt118429
If that happens, I totally see both of them sticking around. ;)