❛𝕳ow was it, that a girl born of the Hightower's tempered flames,
had managed to mangle the heart of a Targaryen afraid of his own shadow?
How was it that she, so violent in her passion,
had sunk him to his knees and forced words of sacred prayer...
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【HEART AND NAME】
REGRET FLOODED THE HALLS OF VAELOR'S MIND AS THE WORDS SLIPPED FROM HIM, YET NONE FILLED HIS HEART. He couldn't find guilt, even in the little crevices that bore the last remnants of what could've been his sense. Though, were the remnants sewn together into a nice blanket, he doubted it would hardly be large enough to drape over half his head, and he wasn't even a man with half his sense- he wasn't worthy of it, not with her before him.
Genavene's tender hands shriveled back, her form sunk away, and Vaelor- stupid Vaelor, as he was, let the words tumble. "Forgive me, I did not mean-" He took a sharp breath. He did mean the words. He meant them, because how could he not?
Unlike his brothers, frivolity did not gild his heart. At least not until her.
And then he wondered if his brothers knew love at all.
Because Genavene... Genavene... What words did he have to describe what had been ravaged upon him during these five moons other than Genavene Hightower herself and herself alone?
It was the only thing that made sense, for she was the only one his heart called out for. Not a thing nor feeling, but her. The being behind it all.
She could tell him the universe had been her doing and he'd believe it blindly.
It was then that he was pulled from thoughts by the fair lady, as a laugh sprouted from her throat. "To love a lady like me is to doom yourself to the darkest pit of the Seven Hells!" She cackled, placing her hands upon her hips. With her laughter, she glanced around the tent, at anything but Vaelor. "It's foolish. Idiotic. Ludicrous."
He couldn't blame her, he was a fool. A fool for her, a fool for Daemon to torment, a fool for Viserys to occasionally dangle before maidens. In truth of all those, he did prefer her. She was far sweeter in taste, even with her tendency to bite.
"Pretty- petty words." He muttered. "They mean nothing, not to me- not to my heart."
His heart which he hid beneath his hand as it rested over it. Beating a somber tune. Something is going to happen. His mind insisted- something was. He preferred to find happiness in some way, some place, someone- someone like her, before everything fell to ash- because it would, it would, he was certain it would.
What precious little life the world carried, and Vaelor had found a kindred part of it vested in her, Lady Genavene Hightower. She made his heart slumber, when others let it wile, and with the world feeling to be ending for him in some way, some witless way that made no sense- but he felt it, he knew it, he saw it- he wanted her by his side.
"To your heart, but what of within it?" The lady in green questioned, her head drifting to the side, a lazy candor to it, a true unsteady way the way she held herself entirely.
