[ He's not half so spoiled as she is, really - he has spent impossibly long days out in the field, subsisting on meals she would surely refuse, seeing herself to a dignified death of starvation rather than offend her finer sensibilities with stale crusts of bread and charred fish over a fire, caught only an hour before from a rank stream. He has known his share of lavish dinners, in the great hall of Casterly Rock, upon the royal tables of King's Landing, and on the clothed table of her own solar. In none of these situations was his attention ever truly on the fare, and if he sat close enough, his hand was always more hungry for the hearth between her thighs than his mouth was for anything laid on the table.
And once he did remember his raging appetite for food, he would set to its destruction with a most cheerful wrath. The beasts he hunted himself were most satisfying, but he had savored all manner of delicacies in her company. Now they have these paltry handfuls, and it is forgotten the moment it is gone. Trades and alliances would have to be made on more than the laughably slim treasure of tasteless bread. ]
I would rather be a eunuch than set foot in that cretin's chambers.
[ This is not strictly true - he can in fact think of few hells in which he'd choose to be a eunuch over any other punishment - but he does have an enduring distaste for the decrepit maester. Thankfully he is ever healthy, however, and in need of no one's aid. His sister too, he always preferred to believe, and he keeps her hand locked hot and tight within his own. There are scant few thoughts that dart through his head which do not provoke him to an abrupt and shameless possession of her. He surveys the yard they share with their unwitting companions, decides there is probably not one among them who would prove a faithful ally, and knows in the same breath that that is generally how most allies start, in the absence of riches to be exchanged.
Despite how ardently he longs to take her inside, he is also aware of their limited exposure to the sun, and so he instead begins a circuit of the walls, scouring them up and down with sharp jade eyes. ]
I'd sooner make a weapon of stone or iron, but have not yet achieved either. Who have you spoken to?
and i am always Charmed
And once he did remember his raging appetite for food, he would set to its destruction with a most cheerful wrath. The beasts he hunted himself were most satisfying, but he had savored all manner of delicacies in her company. Now they have these paltry handfuls, and it is forgotten the moment it is gone. Trades and alliances would have to be made on more than the laughably slim treasure of tasteless bread. ]
I would rather be a eunuch than set foot in that cretin's chambers.
[ This is not strictly true - he can in fact think of few hells in which he'd choose to be a eunuch over any other punishment - but he does have an enduring distaste for the decrepit maester. Thankfully he is ever healthy, however, and in need of no one's aid. His sister too, he always preferred to believe, and he keeps her hand locked hot and tight within his own. There are scant few thoughts that dart through his head which do not provoke him to an abrupt and shameless possession of her. He surveys the yard they share with their unwitting companions, decides there is probably not one among them who would prove a faithful ally, and knows in the same breath that that is generally how most allies start, in the absence of riches to be exchanged.
Despite how ardently he longs to take her inside, he is also aware of their limited exposure to the sun, and so he instead begins a circuit of the walls, scouring them up and down with sharp jade eyes. ]
I'd sooner make a weapon of stone or iron, but have not yet achieved either. Who have you spoken to?