open post/cont. threads etc

[dohaeras]

bkstrts & psls.

Comments

[callmeadar]

If that is all it takes then most of the library is forbidden from me, for it is largely about humans. [And dragon or not, Aemond was deeply human. He could not help it, and Adar usually quite enjoyed it.]

I do not mind if you prefer elves. It is not as though I fear competition. Especially from a book that cannot touch you as I do.

[dohaeras]

I am a married man, you are hardly going to see me running off with one of the elves at the castle.

[ He scoffs at the idea, leaning up on a bent arm to kiss his way into a burned hairline, nosing a scarred temple. Not once has Aemond ever shied away from Adar's body in favour of the prettier, vapid creatures flitting vainly about the corridors. ]

As you say, a book is a book.

[callmeadar]

You were hardly running off with them even before that. [No, Aemond had found his personal interest almost as soon as he saw Adar and he had as far as Adar knew, stuck to it pretty firmly until good sense lost out and Adar also admitted to the desire burning in his chest. A soft, pleased sigh escapes his lips as Aemond nuzzles along his skin.]

So do not be so ashamed next time. [It makes you easy pickings, sweet love.]

[dohaeras]

Do not tease me so much next time.

[ Such a stealthy thief, all for a book! He is curious, though ... ]

You don't like my books on philosophy, what do you read?

[callmeadar]

You were ashamed well before I stole the book from you. [He reminds him, tilting his head to press a playful kiss to the tip of his nose.]

Here? Not so much. There were books on war that seemed intriguing. A few poetry books almost worth the paper they were written on.

[dohaeras]

... Mmm.

[ He extricates himself by clambering over Adar to find his bag on the floor and rifling around in it. When he levies back up, he offers him a book by someone called Sun Tsu, The Art Of War. ]

You might like this then, in that case.

[callmeadar]

You would have a book about war tucked in the same bag I assume you had your little romance novel hidden in. [He looks like he might laugh, but only because he is beyond fond of him. He takes the book but sets it aside so he can drag him into a kiss.]

[dohaeras]

It is not mine, I only ... !

[ Mrrpghh mghh mmm. Never mind what he only did, then. Kisses are better, a much nicer reason to playfight his way into dragging Adar over in return, refusing to be tugged about. No, you come here. So much bullying going on in their bed. ]

[callmeadar]

[Is it bullying if he is willing? Because he is, and wants only to touch his husband without much care about who came to whom or how they entangled themselves just so long as they did. His tongue teases his lips as his hand cups his face to keep him close.]

[dohaeras]

[ Arms wrapping around Adar, he surges up to steal a lurid kiss that claims his husband's teasing tongue in sweeping licks. Every hum travels up from his chest, the graze of his aquiline nose on a cheek as he adjusts the angle a lazy treat just to feel the way Adar matches him. ]

I will ... read to you ... [ a murmured, smirking threat in between kisses, ] every night ... until you like it.

[callmeadar]

Mmmn... a terrible fate. [Who was to say he wouldn't claim to not like it to just get more of these quiet hours together? He did not much care what Aemond spoke of so long as he did, the sound of his voice both alluring and a comfort to the old elf.]

What will you read to me?

[dohaeras]

Philosophy.

[ He is cruel. ]

[callmeadar]

Well, I do need some rest... [He teases.]

[dohaeras]

[ One elf is going to suffer the attack of his husband for that, namely being bundled up in blankets so he can't fight back. ]

[callmeadar]

[A most terrible fate. He puts up a little bit of a fight, but more like a kitten trying to squirm away than an honest effort.]

Mmmn. Cosy.

[dohaeras]

[ It's not the end of his revenge! A pillow whaps at Adar from the side. ]

You would be lucky to listen to me read those books!

[callmeadar]

I will listen to you read anything, vanimelda. [he laughs.] But I fear I will not enjoy it for the content in this case...

[dohaeras]

What is wrong with you, you ruffian.

[ He gives up and gently kicks his burrito'd husband, scooting away to the top of the bed where he gets under the covers there. ]

I won't read you a thing.

[callmeadar]

I am an ancient, haggard, old thing who has been around longer than I care to think about. That is what is wrong with me. [After a moment he unwraps himself and then moves up the bed to flop on top of the covers beside him.] That I do not find value in the works of these authors does not mean you cannot. We are from very different worlds, despite the common thread of dragons...

And I always enjoy listening to you. [Even when you are sulking.]

[dohaeras]

That cannot always be your excuse! Listen now, how can you not be affected by this ...

[ Aemond finds one of his philosophy books and flips to a page, slumping against Adar so his elf can't flee in the blink of an eye. ]

'A man avenges himself because he finds justice in it. Therefore he is completely reassured on all counts and consequently takes his revenge calmly and successfully, convinced that what he is doing is just and honourable. Spite, of course, can overcome everything, and therefore it could serve as a primary cause for the simple reason that it is not a cause. But spite is subject to chemical decomposition, once an object or person vanishes it is no longer subject to hate or blame, letting the consciousness fail to find the primary cause and banishing reasoning -'

[ He will continue unless stopped. ]

[callmeadar]

[It can remarkably often be his excuse since it is true. Nonetheless, Adar doesn't interfere with Aemond's desire to tell him what's what, laying there patiently as he is used for a backrest and read to.

His fingers find the ends of pale golden hair and he fiddles gently with the strands as he allows Aemond to go on and on, perfectly content to listen to him read even if he didn't find much value in it.

Time, after all, was not in short supply for either of them.]

[dohaeras]

'... when man may deliberately and consciously desire something that is downright harmful, even stupid, even extremely stupid: that is, to have the right to desire what is extremely stupid and not to be duty bound to desire only what is intelligent, volition and personality are the most precious thing to him.'

[ He closes his book and swats Adar's chest with it, tossing it away as he settles. ]

You should be lucky I did not follow my head and instead my heart when I courted you.

[callmeadar]

I did try to warn you off losing your heart to me, my love. You would not have a word of it. As I recall you are usually mad at me for not giving in sooner.

[It was not as though they had gone for that trek in the dark countryside and Adar had suddenly realised this young man who dragged him into misadventure was attractive. He had known from the moment he saw him, and known he had substance since not long after.]

If the books aid or interest you, Aemond, they have value. But there is little in them I have not heard or thought of before. Thousands of years is a long, long time to be alive.

[dohaeras]

You cannot have thought of everything.

[ Aemond pulls a sceptical face. ]

Have you ever thought about whether you would rather fight one big dragon or a thousand chicken-sized dragons?

[callmeadar]

I do not think even your family has a thousand chicken-sized dragons. I have, however, known of dragons being felled by lone warriors or small companies.

It is not a matter of having thought of literally everything, but I have my own experiences to draw upon, and the knowledge of many others, when a new situation arises. That it was not written down in a book does not make it less useful, only more difficult to share.