[D8 EE] The Wounded Dragon

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Lorent embraced her, kissing her forehead, "I'd go rouse the Septon out of bed and marry you in a moment, if you'd have me." He sighed, "but some time at the Arbor might do you good. Have Lady Kylie bring your things to you, I won't have you anywhere near that monster. I was never fortunate to be too close to the family, but Olymer speaks well of her, and she is family, however distantly."

[Alicent Feyther]

She closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead, holding him as tight as one arm allowed. "I think it would, too. Lorent..." She reached up to touch his face softly. "Thank you for being here for me. I don't know what I would have done tonight without you."

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

"Thank the Seven that we will never know," he whispered. The scent of her was intoxicating, and more than a little distracting, closing his eyes and savouring her closeness. He kept one arm about her shoulders, above the worst of the lashing Caim had inflicted, the other settled gently on her knee.

[Alicent Feyther]

She nodded in agreement and then leaned up, kissing him softly. Maybe it really had been for the best that her original desire to go to the Citadel had fallen through...

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Lorent returned the kiss carefully, wary of her bruises. When he drew back, the knight looked deep into her violet eyes, overtaken with wonder at how utterly drawn he was to her.