Dancing was something that nearly every lord and lady learned to do, perhaps maybe not in the North or Iron Islands but most other nobles did. This type of dancing was only one of the kinds he learned in the Dorne and Essos, this was however the only kind appropriate for Kingslanding. “I would try my best to keep your attention at least on myself. Dancing is no if you are constantly worried for your steps. Dancing is supposed to be fun after all.” He’d seen glimpses of it, her letting her walls fall and focusing on what was happening in the moment, he craved more of that. “Maybe then we can dance without counting the steps, the imperfections make things more interesting.
Mors had been unusually quiet as he awaited with her answer, to him, to most other Dornishmen it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Outside of House Martell not many married outside of the Dorne. Their birth status rarely mattered, he’d been as accepted as any other nobles of the Dorne. Being a highborn bastard in the Dorne was almost the same as being a trueborn child. In his case it was the same, no trueborn siblings meant he was heir to Godsgrace. “A true heartbreak, running away is not in our future it seems. It seems we’ll have to find another way to possibly enjoy time in Essos together.” No matter his title. He would have been lying if he said it hadn’t been eating at him. There wasn’t any reason for him to have such a fear, he’d only known her for a short time but that was how things in this world worked in their world. Everything went fast, feelings grew in short times. Even if he didn’t want to think about what they truly meant.
“Is that even simple I wonder?” If they’d been born two lowborn people with names no one cared for? “Perhaps it is better that we were born with the names we were given. If not I doubt that we would have ever met.” A servant in Sunspear would have been his life and hers…he couldn’t even imagine where her life would have left her. Mors’ words were stuck in his throat, her hand in his, telling her him that it didn’t matter, his title wasn’t important. To her it might not have mattered, but to everyone else it would matter. “It would be an honor to have you grace the halls, more of an honor than you know.” The words came to him but they didn’t sound right. Nothing sounded right to him, this wasn’t as easy as taking some woman to bed, talking to some stranger who would mean nothing to him past the night. Tightening his hold on her hand Mors mind focused on the softness of her small hand in his. “There would be one problem I could see if you did join me there.”
her sister was the dancer it seemed , she blossomed among the roses in a way laila did not . not that she envied the golden hightower , not really . ‘ believe it or not , but i find that in your company , all my attention is on you . ’ and who was she to lie to him , so comfortable she’d grown with him that her boldness grew with every word , she cared little for things she should and should not say in front of him , for her comfort found her speaking without thought . ‘ but you sound as if you wouldn’t mind losing a few toes , for i fear stepping on them is a talent i have when it comes to dancing . ’ after all , she’d grown up learning to dance upon augustine’s feet .
it wasn’t that simple , it never would be , but she was thankful for who they were and not who they could of been , because without that he was right , it was doubtful they would have never met and she truly thought of that as something , even within the short span of time , that she could not stomach . she didn’t want to know a life where he was not there anymore . it was strange , so little time and it was life her world had shifted axis , as if he was the sun and she was the earth . as if he was the moon and she a star . a life without him seemed unthinkable , not something she wanted .
‘ i suppose it’s not . ’ she murmured , her thumb rhythmically grazing over the ridges of his knuckles as she stroked gently , soothingly within his tightened grip . ‘ i do not like to entertain the idea of not knowing you mors , not at all . ’ she murmured , giving a tightened squeeze of her own fingers as she did so , pale in bronze , small in large , it was all opposite and she cherished the difference so . ‘ an honour ? ’ confusion was building , brushing across her features , dipping between her brows as teeth captured her lower lips . ‘ a problem ? ’
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