Post by journeycat on Jan 14, 2010 2:23:00 GMT 10
Title: Turmoil
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Lindhall questions his morals.
Word Count: 388
Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this pairing!
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What would Arram think if he knew?
Lindhall felt a pang, a deep rotting guilt deep inside and he almost faltered. But then her lips sought and found his, young and warm and sweet, and he could not resist the lure of her taste. He’d be appalled, he thought achingly, but it did not stop his hands from roaming her body and exploring every curve. Really, though, it’s not so different from Daine, is it?
That was wishful thinking, and he knew it. Lindhall was much older than Numair and she much younger than Daine. What kind of morals did he have, that he would risk pain of death in Carthak for fugitives and yet have no inhibitions when it came to flesh of the body?
She gasped against his mouth as his hands slid under her shirt and shoved her breast band up. She was striped with scars, testament to her valor and adventurous spirit. He had liked her when he first spoke with her, as he liked most people; but he had not felt this powerful attraction then—thank the Goddess for that, for she had been a child back then and he could not have lived with himself.
She had flitted in and out of his periphery barely noticed, unGifted and unscholarly. He did not lack in women, and they had always been his age. He could not explain how one day he noticed the shadow cast by her long curling lashes, or the specks of bright green in her eyes, or the curve of her full mouth.
Strange, to think it had somehow led to this. He bore her against the desk, feeling hard bunching muscles beneath his hands. She was stronger than him, taller and broader than him, but very much a woman.
Very much a girl, Lindhall thought sadly.
Where did his morals go, to abandon him to sully the virtue of a good woman like her? He had always considered himself a good man, genuinely caring for those fugitives he helped leave Carthak, but perhaps he had only been lying to himself.
“Lindhall,” she whispered.
His name on her lips was a lusty song in his ears. Ah, Keladry, he thought regretfully, look at what you’ve done to me.
Perhaps the lie was that he never had any morals at all.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Lindhall questions his morals.
Word Count: 388
Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this pairing!
-----
What would Arram think if he knew?
Lindhall felt a pang, a deep rotting guilt deep inside and he almost faltered. But then her lips sought and found his, young and warm and sweet, and he could not resist the lure of her taste. He’d be appalled, he thought achingly, but it did not stop his hands from roaming her body and exploring every curve. Really, though, it’s not so different from Daine, is it?
That was wishful thinking, and he knew it. Lindhall was much older than Numair and she much younger than Daine. What kind of morals did he have, that he would risk pain of death in Carthak for fugitives and yet have no inhibitions when it came to flesh of the body?
She gasped against his mouth as his hands slid under her shirt and shoved her breast band up. She was striped with scars, testament to her valor and adventurous spirit. He had liked her when he first spoke with her, as he liked most people; but he had not felt this powerful attraction then—thank the Goddess for that, for she had been a child back then and he could not have lived with himself.
She had flitted in and out of his periphery barely noticed, unGifted and unscholarly. He did not lack in women, and they had always been his age. He could not explain how one day he noticed the shadow cast by her long curling lashes, or the specks of bright green in her eyes, or the curve of her full mouth.
Strange, to think it had somehow led to this. He bore her against the desk, feeling hard bunching muscles beneath his hands. She was stronger than him, taller and broader than him, but very much a woman.
Very much a girl, Lindhall thought sadly.
Where did his morals go, to abandon him to sully the virtue of a good woman like her? He had always considered himself a good man, genuinely caring for those fugitives he helped leave Carthak, but perhaps he had only been lying to himself.
“Lindhall,” she whispered.
His name on her lips was a lusty song in his ears. Ah, Keladry, he thought regretfully, look at what you’ve done to me.
Perhaps the lie was that he never had any morals at all.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!