The Fact That Rashid Is Gone Now Makes This So Much Worse Lsdjkflksd - Blog Posts

it was only a matter of time before the winds had brought the kite that was zahra sand within the realm of armaan yronwood, who was perhaps the swirling storm that cast her his own way. it would be a lie to state she had no control over her own movements and desires. she found herself within these chambers because she wanted to be, aside from the invitation to join him this evening. long had her own hues looked towards the lord with lust and curiosity, but matters that were of a more personal nature seemed to put a wall between the two of them. there was a line at one point that neither would cross, and as she stood in this very room, she was grateful the lord had restrained himself then.

zahra's dark, enigmatic eyes held a glint of amusement as she accepted the goblet from him, the rich aroma of dornish red swirling in the air between them. the coy smile remained, revealing a playfulness that belied the complexities of the unspoken history they shared. lips found themselves upon the rim of the drink, savoring the taste of the liquid from within. "i was beginning to tire of arbor red myself." she stated nonchalantly, placing the goblet back down on the table between them.

brows rose at his statement, a hint of mischief within her demeanor now as body seemed to shift around the room, head swiveling and eyes wandering about as if to take in the chambers that were given to him for their stay. a hand went to his skirts, lightly bunching the golden silk fabric between her fingers as she absent-mindedly shuffled it between steps.

it was as if it were a game of cat and mouse, now, the way she moved about, increasing and decreasing the proximity between them, occasionally pausing to observe some object or picture. his question, admittedly, caught her off guard, and body stilled momentarily as she thought of what he was referring to. it only took her a moment to recall the occasion, and a laugh escaped her as her head shook. "i did." she answered.

she slipped back to the original spot in which she had taken the goblet from him. "it was far easier to pretend to not know you than to admit otherwise." the words were simple, but revealing of what really lay within her mind. he had caught her eye during her time in yronwood, in the fleeting moments passing one another by, the silent glances each one cast. perhaps if another moment had placed the two of them in a room as they were in now, she would've given into her desires far sooner.

"i played along, but why did you pretend you did not know me to begin with?" zahra questioned now, head tilting slightly to the side, genuine curiosity mixed with frivolous nature coming over her features.

his hair remained wet from his bath when the guards announced her presence, entering into his main audience chambers which was empty if not for the sight of the girl from sea shore. and yet still, he held his shirt in his hand as he walked into the side chamber, slipping it over himself.

the woman who was more like a free kite within the sky, tangled within the clouds and beyond the scopes of roots, was unable to be cornered by anybody: there was no way to capture, to keep her within the confines of a room, as much as she spoke of them. his pure attraction to zahra sand had run with a spark as it had done for years, when she were gracing the halls of yronwood with jingling anklets under the guidance and doting devotion of a father she had truly wrapped around her finger.

that attraction had run red hot and guilty, even when she were in the company of a man he would consider one of his closest friends. perhaps it was for that reason the bloodroyal only looked upon the spirited kite of salt shore within the bustling marketplace of the tor so many years ago.

looked, and pretended as though he were unable to recall who of lord gargalen's daughters he had been speaking to: and nonetheless, in the very back of his mind, there remained the memory of lingering looks over shoulders as she walked away, or comments in passing conversation where words seemed illicitly laced with more than they truly meant. there was a time where the force of gravity that seemed to pull between the pair was one that would have been guilty in essence, and it had taken much of his will power to curb his inherently selfish, reckless side.

and so, the thoughts that passed like the thundering of rains when he were in her presence were always just that. thoughts. "almost." he uttered, noting how somehow, the pair of them had ended up in the reach of all places. was their court not rumoured to be as scandalous as it was full with those who prayed for repentance? "i'll show you how you say my name."

it had been years since his cataclysmic, dark gaze had fallen upon her own: and yet, when there had been a circle surrounding the sound of dancing anklets, he had already known what he would stumble across. and so it continued, that cycle they found themselves in: lingering looks, flirtation, and that magnetic pull. it was not gentle. it was not soft. it was rough, and it were on flames. he wanted to unwrap her, push those golden skirts that she so happily showed up further up her thighs.

he wanted to unwrap her shawl from around her blouse, and run his hands up and down the curves of her body. she had come, had she not?

there was dornish red in two goblets that awaited them as a coy smile slipped over her features, and he silently noted the way in which her dimples appeared when she smiled. they looked the same. he wordlessly passed the goblet of wine into her hands, closing the physical distance between them; he brought it to his own lips first, as though to prove nothing had been done to the substance within the silver goblets. "you knew i recognised you then, didn't you?" he asked. referring to the time where they crossed paths again, this time when she were a ward of the tor.

and he knew. somehow, in the thick of the tension that should have existed. he knew there was guilt in the air; it were obvious there had been something between herself and the lord jordayne. and yet, it felt as though there was something impulsive and reckless about her too: the kite, unable to stop herself from becoming unrooted. "why did you play along?"