[ She hums, laughs, and then shuts her eye coming up with the worst punishments she could possibly come up with. Absolutely wicked, she's sure, worthy of his bloodied ancestors. Lakshmi the Wicked, that could be her name. Tormentor of Vorrutyers. ]
[ It's the sort of ridiculous shoe a lady must where she's a good foot shorter than half the men in the room and needs to get them to meet her in the eye. Or vaguely contemplate stabbing one of them in the neck.
Once it's free, she wriggles her toes where they're caught in her stockings. Her leg arched to stretch out briefly in a content noise of finally letting herself unwind. That party far enough behind them now that she didn't care if someone was following the car, even, and was finding all sorts of new gossip. ]
Oh yes. Definitely. Like you deserve. [ Her eyes slip shut with a content smile. ] Not that I am enjoying it, of course, justice isn't enjoyed. I'm far too impartial for that.
[ He immediately gets to it, pressing his thumbs into the arches of her feet. He has good strong hands, sensitive and attentive, hands that somehow express all the warmth that he doesn't ever allow his words or his deeds to show. His foot-rubs are magical, and his head and hand massages - absolutely phenomenal, even as he keeps complaining: ]
I'm a good honest man, having to endure this kangaroo court. You ought to have been born during the Time of Isolation and ruled as some wicked empress...
[ She makes the most guiltless, happy little grunt of a moan when his fingers sink into the aching her feet. Before she bites it off, doesn't need the drive getting any more ideas as her her teeth sink into her lip. It takes the pressure off them immediately, because he is good at it and he is good at what he does and he knows it. Practised on all those Vor ladies and lords he seduces, no doubt, and there for her to reap the benefit of. What a greedy, selfish woman she was. ]
Oh yes. I would have a lover a day and kill them by night - [ Her brow is furrowed just that little in the utter concentration of how good that feels. That, like that spike of her volatile rage, takes no less than all of herself. ] - like mad old Empress, oh, whatever her name was.
[ He frowns in thought, trying to remember. His fingers don't hesitate or falter or even slow, even as he's distracted by trying to remember his history lessons. ]
I think it was Alexandra. She was only a second cousin of my family, so we never did spend much time remembering her. In any case. Your lovers would thank you with your dying breath, my good lady.
Proof that Vorrutyer's aren't always responsible, I suppose.
[ There's another happy noise when he digs into a sore point. Feeling someone crack back into place. No doubt where a horse had stood on her foot recently. ]
Would they? [ she laughs, then sobers a little. ] Perhaps I should find one, then. I suppose it has been long enough. [ What was good form for a widow? One year? Or was it two? She couldn't quite remember. She knew she would be expected to look for one, in enough time. Just wasn't good form for a woman as young as she was to be left alone. Or so they would say. ]
[ He smiles down at her feet, face not betraying a hint of the unnameable emotion that rises up in him. What is that? Grief for her slaughtered idiot husband? Fear for her and her reputation? Who can tell. ]
[ Her leg arches up into his hold, stretching out. Gently arranging her skirts to keep her moderately decent. Like it mattered, not with Byerly when they'd been a mess of children together. When she'd more than once wriggled into bed half dressed with him. ]
Who says I want to be on the attack straight away. Maybe I would like to be seduced for once. Why do I have to do all the work?
[ Well, quite probably because of how she acted tonight. When people are quite comfortably terrified of her. ]
[ He smooths down her skirt to cover a little more flesh, helping her retain her modesty even as he works those muscles in a fashion that would not exactly be approved of by high society. ]
All Vor men are useless, don't you know. They'll conquer happily enough in war, but when it comes time to conquer in love? It's a lost cause. No, no...Finding one who'll put proper effort into it is an impossibility, I fear.
[ Gangadhar did, she thinks, viciously and meanly and not at him. Gangadhar would press her down so sweetly, he would brush the hair from her face, kiss her soundly and tell her that the only thing he loved to hold more than his weapons was her, because in her was all his victories. But like them, he must always tend her and after that -
But she didn't have him anymore, did she?
She cuts quicker instead because it hasn't stopped hurting for years and she's tired of it. Is that so awful? ]
You do.
[ Which is - slightly petulant. But as determined as she carries on before she can be cut off. ]
If you exist - [ if my husband existed ] - surely there is one of them that isn't a complete waste of time.
You are not. [ A firm correction she gives him often, but then, she shifts with it. Her eyes brighten then, laughing just a little. ]
Oh, there we go. You have to find me a cad. Completely awful. He'll be so devilish and desperate, he'll do anything - like seducing a rich widower that's famous for cutting of Lords' heads.
[ It's only a little bit sarcastic, and regardless of what he has to say that, when she feels the cab stop at last, she looks back down at her still shoed foot, and sighs. Oh she doesn't want to put the other one on, she never wants to look at the damn things. Why did she have a tiny wisp of a Betan for a mother that would leave her ten feet smaller than everyone else.
No, not after this whole evening, she can't face them again and she holds up her hand to wait a second to Byerly and fishes off the other shoe before she shuffles forward in the cab of the groundcar to the driver. The questions aren't particular secretive. Her ridiculous acts of unwanted charity she insisted on giving to other people as she fished off a ring from her finger to go along with it and the conversation was simple 'Do you have a wife? Does she like shoes? Oh no, I have worn them once, just this evening, and I did not like them. They should sell for a good few hundred. Take the ring too. I only bought it to match them anyway. Yes, yes I am that Lady Lakshmi Vornewalkar. Have a good night'.
Then she's bare to her stockings when she gets out. Pressing on her toes so she didn't ruin them completely. ]
[ He's laughing by the time she's returned to her seat, laughing hard - at her, at the driver, at the shoes, at this whole situation. Almost hard enough that it hurts. Good God, only her. Oh, there are a few Vor ladies who might cast their shoes aside, certainly, but only a very scant handful who'd think to give them to the driver. And only she would throw in the matching ring. Good God, what a woman. ]
Here.
[ He climbs out of the cab beside her, and hunches over a little. A proper Vor lord would, of course, sweep her up in his arms, carry her princess-style inside. But he's a little small and thin-armed for that. So, instead, he taps his shoulder, inviting her to climb up so he can carry her piggy-back. ]
[ She doesn't hesitate, as she climbs up on his back. Her knees locking around her hips, her arms going around his shoulders. Her head resting on his shoulder, her purse tucked in one hand as she settles on his back. Easy as when they were children. Pressing her chest against his back and trying to helpfully as she could to keep her hair out of his way. ]
Are you ever sick of carrying me about?
[ He gives her so much, she thinks often, he lets her be so selfish of him, his time. When he serves as much as any man, if not more so to her mind, in a myriad of little cruelties that he will never be rewarded as he should be for. Lets her draw him into her to keep herself breathing when she swears she will drown. ]
Well, I don't know. Do you ever get sick of me taking ruthless advantage of you?
[ Teasingly, he reaches back and cops a feel...of her ankle. Not so much advantage, really...
In spite of his whining and self-deprecation of his physical state and capacities, he carries her easily inside, trotting and bouncing her like a high-spirited horse. ]
[ No, not really, but even so, she's never hated when he touched her, even when they were younger and both - idiots about the world to say the least. Hadn't change when they got older and that reach back only lets her curl her body in tighter to him. The press of her chest into his shoulder blades, muffling her shriek of laughter as he takes off. Gripping hard to his shoulders, fingers clutching onto his clothes. ]
[ He laughs in return as she giggles, the sound for once completely unedged with irony or nastiness - the sound completely, utterly sincere. He runs into the house and spins, twirling her so her skirts spin out. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Catching his breath - ]
What penance must I pay, lady?
no subject
You can take these shoes off me, first of all.
[ Definitely the best place to start. ]
no subject
[ He sighs mournfully as he bends over to grasp her ankle and set it in her lap. Delicately, gently, he works the shoe off. ]
And - egads - shall you force me to rub your feet, too?
no subject
Once it's free, she wriggles her toes where they're caught in her stockings. Her leg arched to stretch out briefly in a content noise of finally letting herself unwind. That party far enough behind them now that she didn't care if someone was following the car, even, and was finding all sorts of new gossip. ]
Oh yes. Definitely. Like you deserve. [ Her eyes slip shut with a content smile. ] Not that I am enjoying it, of course, justice isn't enjoyed. I'm far too impartial for that.
no subject
[ He immediately gets to it, pressing his thumbs into the arches of her feet. He has good strong hands, sensitive and attentive, hands that somehow express all the warmth that he doesn't ever allow his words or his deeds to show. His foot-rubs are magical, and his head and hand massages - absolutely phenomenal, even as he keeps complaining: ]
I'm a good honest man, having to endure this kangaroo court. You ought to have been born during the Time of Isolation and ruled as some wicked empress...
no subject
Oh yes. I would have a lover a day and kill them by night - [ Her brow is furrowed just that little in the utter concentration of how good that feels. That, like that spike of her volatile rage, takes no less than all of herself. ] - like mad old Empress, oh, whatever her name was.
no subject
[ He frowns in thought, trying to remember. His fingers don't hesitate or falter or even slow, even as he's distracted by trying to remember his history lessons. ]
I think it was Alexandra. She was only a second cousin of my family, so we never did spend much time remembering her. In any case. Your lovers would thank you with your dying breath, my good lady.
no subject
[ There's another happy noise when he digs into a sore point. Feeling someone crack back into place. No doubt where a horse had stood on her foot recently. ]
Would they? [ she laughs, then sobers a little. ] Perhaps I should find one, then. I suppose it has been long enough. [ What was good form for a widow? One year? Or was it two? She couldn't quite remember. She knew she would be expected to look for one, in enough time. Just wasn't good form for a woman as young as she was to be left alone. Or so they would say. ]
no subject
[ He smiles down at her feet, face not betraying a hint of the unnameable emotion that rises up in him. What is that? Grief for her slaughtered idiot husband? Fear for her and her reputation? Who can tell. ]
Would you like a list of suggestions?
no subject
Go on then.
no subject
no subject
How am I supposed to make love to the man if you give me dossiers on them.
no subject
no subject
Oh, don't you dare.
no subject
[ He moves up to her calves, rubbing at the muscles there. ]
No need to worry about learning about him. You could stagger him right away. From moment one.
no subject
Who says I want to be on the attack straight away. Maybe I would like to be seduced for once. Why do I have to do all the work?
[ Well, quite probably because of how she acted tonight. When people are quite comfortably terrified of her. ]
no subject
[ He smooths down her skirt to cover a little more flesh, helping her retain her modesty even as he works those muscles in a fashion that would not exactly be approved of by high society. ]
All Vor men are useless, don't you know. They'll conquer happily enough in war, but when it comes time to conquer in love? It's a lost cause. No, no...Finding one who'll put proper effort into it is an impossibility, I fear.
no subject
But she didn't have him anymore, did she?
She cuts quicker instead because it hasn't stopped hurting for years and she's tired of it. Is that so awful? ]
You do.
[ Which is - slightly petulant. But as determined as she carries on before she can be cut off. ]
If you exist - [ if my husband existed ] - surely there is one of them that isn't a complete waste of time.
no subject
Well, I only do because I am worthless in all other ways. Hm, perhaps that's the key...find someone without merit, who knows he has to impress you.
no subject
Oh, there we go. You have to find me a cad. Completely awful. He'll be so devilish and desperate, he'll do anything - like seducing a rich widower that's famous for cutting of Lords' heads.
[ It's only a little bit sarcastic, and regardless of what he has to say that, when she feels the cab stop at last, she looks back down at her still shoed foot, and sighs. Oh she doesn't want to put the other one on, she never wants to look at the damn things. Why did she have a tiny wisp of a Betan for a mother that would leave her ten feet smaller than everyone else.
No, not after this whole evening, she can't face them again and she holds up her hand to wait a second to Byerly and fishes off the other shoe before she shuffles forward in the cab of the groundcar to the driver. The questions aren't particular secretive. Her ridiculous acts of unwanted charity she insisted on giving to other people as she fished off a ring from her finger to go along with it and the conversation was simple 'Do you have a wife? Does she like shoes? Oh no, I have worn them once, just this evening, and I did not like them. They should sell for a good few hundred. Take the ring too. I only bought it to match them anyway. Yes, yes I am that Lady Lakshmi Vornewalkar. Have a good night'.
Then she's bare to her stockings when she gets out. Pressing on her toes so she didn't ruin them completely. ]
no subject
Here.
[ He climbs out of the cab beside her, and hunches over a little. A proper Vor lord would, of course, sweep her up in his arms, carry her princess-style inside. But he's a little small and thin-armed for that. So, instead, he taps his shoulder, inviting her to climb up so he can carry her piggy-back. ]
Come on, get up.
no subject
Are you ever sick of carrying me about?
[ He gives her so much, she thinks often, he lets her be so selfish of him, his time. When he serves as much as any man, if not more so to her mind, in a myriad of little cruelties that he will never be rewarded as he should be for. Lets her draw him into her to keep herself breathing when she swears she will drown. ]
no subject
[ Teasingly, he reaches back and cops a feel...of her ankle. Not so much advantage, really...
In spite of his whining and self-deprecation of his physical state and capacities, he carries her easily inside, trotting and bouncing her like a high-spirited horse. ]
no subject
[ No, not really, but even so, she's never hated when he touched her, even when they were younger and both - idiots about the world to say the least. Hadn't change when they got older and that reach back only lets her curl her body in tighter to him. The press of her chest into his shoulder blades, muffling her shriek of laughter as he takes off. Gripping hard to his shoulders, fingers clutching onto his clothes. ]
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)