robinofthevale.
When Robin heard the Lord’s responses he furrowed his brows, and chewed on his bottom lip. my prince, your attention, serve at your pleasure. Leowyn knew what he was doing. He was Master of Whispers he must have been good at playing with others minds, getting them to say things….do things they normally would not so he could squeeze information out them. Robin also knew how much of the Myrish Pear Brandy he had consumed was throwing him off his edge, he wouldn’t have said what he had without the drink in his system, but it was too late to backtrack now….especially after what the other had said. He was simply trying to throw him off more, or mock him, and Robin couldn’t tolerate either. He had to regain the over hand, call Leowyn on his bluff, take the pressure that had now been put on him, and put it back on the Master of Whispers. Robin under normal circumstances would usually never be so brazen, but with the Myrish drink, he felt a sense of courage running through his bones to be more assertive with the lord.
“How noble of you to not wish to dampen my mood on my name day. Unfortunately, your rather boring gift did such a thing.” Shifting in his seat, his eyes looking over Leowyn’s futures another time. “You want to please me so badly? You truly want my attention over the attention of women? Then prove it, Lord Corbray, take off your clothes and you shall have as much of my attention and my pleasure as you wish.” Bringing his drink to his lips, and taking a long drink, his eyes not breaking their connection with Leowyn’s so that the older man knew just how serious the Arryn Prince was.
.
While he had a knack for being disingenuous with other people, Leowyn was being nothing but honest with the Arryn prince. His loyalty lied with Robin’s family, and thus, to use his tactics garnered for his title as Master of Whispers on Robin would have gone against whatever little moral code he had. In hindsight, Leowyn should have recognized that he could have come across crass or brazen — or even condescending — to the younger male. That was the furthest thing from his goal. If anything, he wished to do whatever necessary to stay in the prince’s good graces.
“I apologize. I shall be more inventive next time,” Leowyn decided. The older male had certainly not been expecting the words that parted from Robin’s lips, and it was quite apparent on his face by the way his blue eyes widened. He moved from his seat, a little hesitant at first. He was usually such a confident and bold man, but Robin had so expertly flipped the table on him. Such a request would have been surely a joke, but the prince’s body language suggested anything but. “As you wish, my prince,” he declared. Leowyn inched closer to the younger male, nimble fingers working at the buttons on his velvet doublet. His undershirt followed suit. Once the fabric was torn from his body, his muscles on full display, Leowyn’s gaze returned to Robin’s. His digits unlaced his breeches before tugging them off his frame, leaving him in nothing but his smallclothes. “Should I, or would you like to?”









