Melodies of Orient Beauty
Glorfindel share each human, temporary or staying, with his Fist Mate, the Swan Prince, it is why Echy cheats, he doesn’t do it, but Glor forgives and he can overlook, leave it unnoticed for the sake of the wedlock and the slight resistance that is always welcome in the relationships which are the starstuff that leaves the trail of the ongoing battles. This is how Celegorm is feeling right now and at this moment, he was bethinking back, back when he met her, she was the independent vigor, the powerfulness in her own mightiness, the open mind and not the narrow looking comprehension, limited in his small-minded subsistence, the understanding of the multiple uptakes, the cognizance and the grasps, that was his perception, and he said to her, Hush, My Lady.
You are mine now, and that was it, it was so easy when he looks back on, on the day when he was nothing more than the Elf, and to see one woman, in bondage displayed and splayed like she is some commodity, it was hard to swallow, to gorge himself up, as if he was devouring the God’s light, to gobble it up, to stuff himself as the Wolf he was, and not the Disguised Dragon, for he was both, the child of both worlds, just like his son, only, he never took the other side. Is Jon Snow rubbing off on him? In the incidental affairs? He wasn’t even here, and he did have such an effect on him. It was resulting in something he couldn’t find within. For all this time, he was the cheer and the flattery person, lively and bouncy. But deep down, everyone knew the truth, something has changed, and only he didn’t want to see it. It was easier that way.
He wanted to stay the same, he wanted to be what he chose to be, what was his birthright, the undying Elf, the one to whom the sickness or any malady is merely the headache which becomes the urban legend, he wasn’t choosing the mortality to see the long end, to excuse himself from the immortality that honors the brave, like Jon, like Daemon, Glor’s son, and that is what was limiting him, and that was his only retribution. Oh, how you did fall. Celegorm. The Great Hunter of the Woods, The Prince of Fair, the High sweet Prince to his equally High and adoring Princess. The Emperor’s Son to the Last human King’s daughter, the one of the kind, indeed, for everyone else would be of the mix, like the Lion King with the half Dragon heart of his son.
He would only admit what he didn’t want to word out, the truthfulness of which everyone grew aware. He was denying that side, and why would he do that?
Why?!
For he is a cowardly bastard. Will it be the concluding result or not, he couldn’t even think straight, as he used to be and not to see it through the eyes of his son.
Even though this is how each Elf may feel when it is done in such a way where she or he of androgynous features may sensate, if there is any discomfort, the Elves are not doing it, only if it means to take you out of your comforting zone, not to shut yourself from the life, but to do it in front of everyone, that wasn’t their style. Which indicated one thing only, this was the private matter, and he has to see it through, what this was all about. There is that face of Glorfindel which he did pass onto his heiress. However, he didn’t even see her, it is already gnawing at him, the turmoil of his moving bowels, viscerally, it was having the grisly feeling in the back of his throat.
And since when he is feeling this way? He loved her, and still, he is conjuring in his elven mind that the humans are monkeys, and his child was a half of it, but he saw them in the distinctive light, it wasn’t the same. This is what he keeps telling himself. And what is that, in the men, that they eventually turn out to hate what they are attracted to by the nature itself? It is all about the power, women throughout the history, had that over them. The prevailing dominance, the vantage of which no one wants to speak about it. No one ones to address it. To see something inferior, to see it lowly, something what you learned to love. That was the paradox of life, and he didn’t know what to do about it, neither how inaccurate or how bad it looks like. To the front side, he was the impeccable and pristine-like presence, but from the inside, something was boiling inside him. What would his son tell? Wait, he is here on his own, why his own son is following him, even when he isn’t in his bumbling thoughts? It was casting the larger shadow upon the Wall when you are smaller in the size. His son was shadowing him, just like Glorfindel was shadowed by Ned Stark. And that was the poetry, the sardonicism was in the dryness of not wanting to know, that he was halfway to the midway, the middle of the road, to the turning point of his ever life!
- Do I have to go through this? – I beg your pardon? – No, I mean…what if my tastes are differentiated? What if they differ from the contrasts of who I was before. You know that then, I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t wholly. I was not fully me. – What kind of difference does it make? You told us to bring her, in the way you are akin to relate yourself with. It is all about relatedness, and you didn’t even see her, I told you already that. – I do not wish for the young woman to go through this. – This is her duty. It is nothing against the nature of the things, there is no torment or nature, some people even pay for this to be done to them. – She is unwilling. – She isn’t. It is her duty.
- You imposed it on her. – And why are you castigating me? Are you brawling with me? – Mind your tongue, human. – Oh, you were forever difficult, but this is the new extreme. – I am glad when I do not disappoint. – You are as fickle as the Hell itself. It is the uttermost trivialization of the affairs. – Those are objectives. – Or it is another in you speaking?
- Why do you insist? Why do you persist and you do not halt in your subsisting then? – Because she is ready! – when the thin arguments were over, Doreah was out, to the front, in advance of being bare from her toe to the upper neck. There were golden chains, on each joint, on each ankle. She was wearing the lightened form of the gag in her mouth, one of the girls, has come up, and fixed it behind her, her bound mouth as it was the rest of her, it was getting too loose, it was aiming to be able to talk. Even when she was nothing but the purified shape of the bondage style. It was tight, and it was pleasurable.
Everyone drew back. Except the two of them, the two who were reflecting if the freethinking was out of the windows. Concurrence, did he have that? Of course, all his life, and somehow, he could swear that if she were here, the real her, she would think the same, still, look at the young and fair woman, the person, a human. There was something in her eyes, the twinkling and she wore even the smile, even if she had the lax bound mouth, she could speak, but not pull a smile, but she did. She didn’t know her or him, and yet, there was the unsaid expectation. Expressed by not telling anything, and what could he do? He could, but this was the matter of pride. There were other women and if he denies her, what will become of her? At least, he may try, this was their game. Perhaps, it started as objectification, but how it goes on, it is for real and actual, hence, maintainable. She wanted this. She was in the center of spotlight. It was her night that fell.
This was a woman who was doing it for another woman, and if she is given the chance, she would challenge herself even harder, to become the integral part of the Elven society, to be someone who makes the calls, this was their ways of preservation. She could be someone who was doing it all by the rules, now, she was owning the rules. He as she, gave a spot for the other lady, and when she began her individual dance, with all the harnessed body of hers, she wasn’t oppressed or exploited, she was the one who governs the rhythm. Tempo was of a lighter snake, first and foremost, it was the nether regions for her, the infernal lands, the fire and brimstone, and how the time passes, she learnt to use it to her assets, she has the upper hand, she has danced.
- She is curving it while she dances, look at the position of her human organism, of her meek shapes and her vehement frames, the build and the stylish framework, the bones and the flesh, she is having it all, hasn’t she? And with such ease, she is doing it all that, and she can even speak to you, even when she is of the bound mouth, it is the lightness of her moves, and she stored her own life light to serve you as long as you need her, to take her with you, but she is staying docile, for the other woman. If that is not the stoutness of her full submission, I do not know what it is, and she is still having her resisting glare, just look at her, how she is offering herself to you.
To a woman for another woman. Just the way you are loving it. Generally speaking, I never saw it till now, that a woman does another favor to the other woman. Specially the one who is on the top of the food chain, it is the chain reaction that is egregious, unheard of and I do listen. I heard the stories, and I am only fulfilling my duties, what my predecessors were filling in my place, and in lieu of fables, I gave you the actuality of all your dreaming, just as they were marking prior to all – he talked and talked, while his elven gaze is laying mesmerized. He would never expressed it, but the fashion by which she was drawing and moving herself, it was the art in painting. She was the most agile and nimble woman ever. That was the unalloyed artwork. The genuine wanting and their eyes had met. No, there was nothing in between them, but there could be the Pact. Why not. They may use each other, for how does he think to have the prey, if he doesn’t use the bait.
She nodded, and that was it. She is taking her to her private chambers. The woman kneeled, going up, and while doing so, one of the scarfed lady women had come from behind of the woman that had won the hearts here and there, and put the translucent veil over the half of her face, she is to be escorted to her key destination and what is coming up next, if it is between the Inner Chambers, between the woman that shall please her and the other way around, there is no talk and no eyes and no ears, the Inner Chambers were the most intimate and clandestine rooms of Qarth, not even the official representatives may ever know, with their Masters and Mistresses of Whisperers. Of what they may find out. That is the sealed and blended singularity of the night that has just begun, the stars were the elfin territory, the scented tapers were tapering off, it was the enticing majesty and magnificence of pillowed cushions and the textile tapestries on walls.
*
- Have your gratification, my Lady. – I shall, and please, if you do not mind. I am waited! – Certainly. It is positively influencing our long standing treaties, enjoy. – I shall, thank you, Daxos!
*
Now, this is the game, while Celegorm thinks of his Lyanna and Doreah is admiring her pretty hair veil as well, by looking herself at one of the ornamented mirrors, it was her turn to shine it!
When you call Hellfires from another dimension, be ready to fire the damned and yourself.