isles-of-man

[isles-of-man]

Oscar and Henry exchanged a look, silent communication passing between them as they watched her deliberate tease. Oscar's breath caught in his throat, his hands clenching at his sides to stop himself from reaching out. Henry, always the more composed of the two, felt his composure slipping, the careful restraint he prided himself on fraying at the edges.

"Turn around," Oscar finally spoke, his voice rough with desire, barely audible over the music. Oscar's fingers dug into the armrest of his chair, knuckles white with restraint, while Henry's tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

She didn't. Not yet. Instead, her fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, playing with the elastic, a silent question hanging in the air.

Henry shifted in his seat, the fabric of his trousers suddenly too tight. "You're cruel," he murmured, his eyes tracing the curve where her back met her ass, the dimples at the base of her spine that he wanted to press his thumbs into.

The twins had shared women before, but never like this. Never someone who commanded the room with such quiet confidence, who made them wait, who turned the tables so completely that they felt like the ones being unwrapped.

Henry shifted in his seat, his arousal painfully evident. Oscar wasn't faring any better, his own pants tented with his own erection but they both sat waiting for her to finally strip bare before they tempted themselves to join her.

She had her back turned to them. The curve of her spine was accentuated by the way her body moved, dipped, washed away with the music. Her skin was creamy, the soft and untouched flesh was showered in light. Her hands stopped as her jeans were unbuckled, instead, looping around her form, touching herself as if her hands weren’t hers, traveling up her sides, to her throat, entangling in her hair. Though she couldn’t see their expressions, Soren could most definitely feel it; how they watched her. She felt it. The heat of their gaze, the thick, silent tension in the room that stretched taut as wire. Soren knew the weight of their attention intimately now, how it pooled around her like velvet, like a second skin.

Then, finally, the denim yielded.

The button slipped free with a quiet pop, the zipper following with a sigh. Her jeans slid lower, past her hips, brushing down her thighs in slow motion, clinging like they, too, didn’t want to let go. Every inch of exposed skin seemed deliberate, orchestrated, even as the fabric fell to the floor.

Bowie sang to her, encouraged her, as she peeled off the next article of clothing, her shirt, off slowly, inch by inch, the fabric catching slightly at her elbows as if resisting, reluctant to let go of the moment. The hem lifted, baring the dip of her lower back, then higher, revealing the smooth expanse of her spine, the elegant lines of her shoulders, the soft curve where flesh met shadow. And still… she didn’t turn.

The shirt slid off her arms like water, falling to the floor. The air touched her now, grazing over her newly bare skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, her nipples hardening. They were soft, brown plumps.

She stood there, stripped down to just her panties, delicate, dark, clinging.

Her breath was calm, but her eyes were still closed, her temperature rising. Her lungs were pulling her ribs wide,

The music pulsed on, low and slow, like it too was watching her, held hostage by the tension.. Her fingers dipped into her hair again, combing through it languidly, letting the strands tumble down her back, creating a curtain of movement.

Still, no glance behind.

She knew what they wanted. And she was in no rush to give it.

Her smile grew just a touch.

They’d seen her body.

But her eyes?

That was the real unveiling. And she was saving it.

[isles-of-man]

Erik didn’t answer her right away. Instead, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was soft at first—slow and tasting of wine and rain—but deepened with each passing second. His hand slipped beneath the blanket, finding the curve of her waist and drawing her closer into him. The warmth of her body pressed fully against his, and he let out a breath against her mouth, savoring the way she melted into him.

He shifted slightly, guiding her gently into his lap, his hands steady at her hips. His lips moved down to her neck, trailing a slow path across her skin, lingering at the hollow of her throat. One hand moved up, fingers sliding beneath the hem of her shirt to trace the soft skin at the small of her back. His other hand rested on her thigh, thumb brushing lazy circles as her body aligned with his.

The blanket slipped slightly, and the dim light painted her skin in warm tones as Erik’s mouth found hers again. This time the kiss was more intent, more certain—languid but full of heat, the kind that spoke of long nights and quiet longing finally met. His fingertips explored slowly, not in a rush, but with the kind of focus that came from knowing exactly who he was touching, and what it meant to have her like this.

He kissed her until they forgot the movie entirely, until the sound of rain was all that filled the room. Until her breath was uneven and her hands gripped the back of his neck. Until all that remained between them was warmth, closeness, and the rising tension that neither of them wanted to break too soon.

“I’m thinking about how it’s never felt like this before—with anyone. How your body feels made for mine.” He kissed her again, slower now, deeper, tasting every inch of her mouth. “And how I don’t want to stop touching you for a very, very long time.”

emily smiled when she heard erik's words about always belonging here. she looked at him in the eyes and whispered. "perhaps in another life, we were already living in this house?" she believed in soulmates, believed in the fact that every new cycle of life, they found each other one day or another. she looked back at the whole room and whispered. "maybe a century ago, we were already living together, loving each other. creating a family and watching our children grow to become wonderful human beings." she mused before then looking back at the tv.

she wasn't very much focused anymore. she was just enjoying this lovely time with him, picturing their future life together. she could feel him pressing her against his body. not in a teasing way but to make her be even closer to him. she kissed his lips sweetly before kissing his neck and cuddling him under the blankets. hearing his heart beating made her smile as her hand gently caressed his shirt. her long hair covered his chest as she watched absentmindedly the movie that displayed on the screen.

it was when erik kissed her lips, feeling him deepening it, that emily knew they would never watch that movie. it wasn't a hungry kiss, one that could make them end having the dirtiest session. it was a genuine one, one full of love. one that could lead them to the sweetest love making session. full of love, of slow burn and simply connection between them. emily broke the kiss and looked at him in the eyes, a warm smile coming across her face.

the rain crashed against the windows, the sound making the ambiance lovelier. she smiled at erik and caressed his chest before asking in a sweet whisper. "what are you thinking about, my love?"

[isles-of-man]

Jorah’s lips curved into a quiet smirk as her words sank in, his eyes flicking over her face—every detail of her, flushed and close. “I would,” he said, voice low, roughened by the thought. “I’d walk through that damn hall with my head high and a hand on your back, letting them all see what’s mine.” Her kiss on his neck made his breath hitch, and his hand slid slowly down her back, settling at the curve of her hip.

As she spoke about her instincts, the tension she still carried, Jorah listened without interrupting. He understood that kind of reflex, the kind born from too many nights sleeping with one eye open. He traced a slow line along her spine. “Let it come when it comes,” he murmured. “But every creak, every step—it’s just a house now. Not a threat. And I’m not going anywhere.” His hand moved to her thigh, a soft squeeze grounding the promise.

Her playful tone pulled a low chuckle from him, dark and quiet. “A few more minutes, is it?” he asked, his mouth brushing against the curve of her jaw. “That’s all I’ll need… to make you forget what tired even feels like.” His hand moved between them, slow and sure, fingertips drawing a lazy path down her waist like he had all the time in the world.

At her last question, he tilted his head, watching her with a look that lingered just a little too long. “I’m not tired,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not anymore.” He caught her wrist gently, brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed the inside of her palm, his breath warm against her skin. “I remember you mention of us continuing to try and make sure your with my bairn.”

kate smiled and just kissed his lips tenderly. she laughed lightly at his words of being a lucky bastard the day she will be pregnant. she couldn't help but imagine jorah being proud of his wife's swollen belly, their child growing safely in her womb. she caressed his face and whispered: "i can see you at the castle, telling everybody that i am swelling with your child." she smirked and kissed his neck sweetly, loving this enthusiasm of his.

as he commented about her getting used to this new life, kate couldn't help but chuckle. "it's still weird for me to lower my guard. i still have reflexes when i heard the cracking sound of the wooden roof. or the steps of our staff walking around." she sighed and kissed his chest tenderly. "or simply having you holding me tight every single night." she smiled and looked at him lovingly.

she laughed at his words and kissed his neck when he first commented about staying here a little longer. she then smirked at his next question and whispered: "i am not so extremely tired. i can still be awake for a few more minutes." her tone was now playful as she looked at him in the eyes.

"why? what do you have in mind?" she asked, her smile growing fonder. "are you very tired? you must be, with those training and bloody sessions." she caressed his chest and kissed it sweetly before looking at him with her big green hues. her smile grew warmer as she exhaled of happiness before just letting her finger tips caressed his lips tenderly.

[isles-of-man]

Erik watched her slip beneath the blanket and into his arms, her body fitting against his with the kind of familiarity that only came from shared history and quiet longing finally answered. The room was bathed in soft gold and grey, the rain outside tapping gently against the windows like a metronome to their stillness. She kissed him—slow, full of intention—and he tasted the wine on her lips, the unspoken words in the way her body melted into his. There was nothing performative about this.

Nothing rehearsed. Just the raw comfort of her presence, the heat of her thigh over his, the press of her hand over his heart. Erik exhaled, slow and steady, letting her settle, letting himself feel it.

He didn’t speak at first. He just traced small, absent-minded circles along the bare skin at her waist, memorizing the way her breath caught subtly when he found a sensitive spot. She looked around the room, not just seeing furniture or soft lights, but possibility. He could feel her imagining it—their future unfolding inside these walls—and it struck him with a kind of quiet force. The vision of it was so tangible he could almost see it too: the two of them just like this, every evening. Years stretching out, full of moments just like now. Their children’s laughter echoing through the hall. Her reaching for his hand after long days. And the bedroom light still on when the house went quiet, just for them.

“You look like you’ve always belonged here,” he murmured finally, lips brushing the edge of her hairline, voice soft enough that it barely broke the moment. Watching her, holding her like this, it felt like a chapter closing on all the years they spent pretending they weren’t meant for more. His hand slid along her back, not rushing, just grounding her to him. The weight of her, the softness of her breath against his throat, the subtle rise and fall of her chest—it was everything he’d missed without realising he’d been waiting for it.

The movie screen flickered on, but neither of them were really paying attention. Erik’s focus stayed on the curve of her jaw, the way her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, the familiar warmth beginning to build between them—not just desire, but something deeper, steadier. He leaned in, catching her mouth in a kiss that started soft but deepened quickly, tasting of red wine and slow-burning hunger.

emily walked into the living room and found the ambiance extremely romantic. the soothing sound of the rain drop crashing against the windows, the dim lights, the soft and warm blankets. her boyfriend holding two glasses of wine and waiting for her. her heart swelled with pride and love for him. she felt finally home, finally her dream came true and she knew that from now on, she would come home to erik. her lover, her everything.

"this looks perfect." she whispered before slowly sliding under the blankets and coming into his arms. she clinked her glass of wine with his and kissed his lips tenderly before taking a sip of her drink. this was perfect, she couldn't wish for better setting. looking at the screen, emily asked: "so, which movie should we start?" she smiled and just kissed his neck before setting the glass of wine back on the table.

the blankets warmed her whole body already, she let her legs tangle with his as her hand rested on his chest and her head on his shoulder. the rain fell harder, it was perfect. it made the whole place look darker and yet, so comfortable and safe. emily loved this. while she let erik choose the movie, her green hues scanned the environment, already picturing their life.

the sofa was large, comfortable and big enough to welcome three or four more people. she smiled as she could imagine their children joining them for a family movie night. and after they fell asleep, emily and erik would then go to their bedroom and watch a movie just the two of them. have their moment together, their intimacy to make love and just reconnect after a whole day dedicated to their family.

yes, emily was now smiling as she looked back at erik with loving eyes and kissed his jaw tenderly.

[isles-of-man]

Jorah grinned at her teasing, the edge of her lips brushing his still tingling from the kiss. “A flirt?” he murmured, his hand trailing slowly down her side beneath the blanket, “If I am, it’s only because my wife makes it impossible not to be.” He leaned in and kissed her again—this time slower, deeper—before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth where her smile lingered.

When her hand slid to her stomach, his followed instinctively, covering hers. He didn’t say anything at first—just let the moment settle between them, warm and hopeful. “We will,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “And when it happens, I’ll be the luckiest bastard alive.” His fingers traced idle, gentle circles where her hand rested, as if imagining the future already stirring beneath her skin.

Her words about getting used to this life made him chuckle, low in his throat. “You’ll get used to it, love,” he said, dipping his head to kiss her neck, lingering there for a breath. “Soft sheets, hot baths, me under the same roof every night—it’s not such a bad fate, is it?” His voice was playful, but there was something genuine beneath it, something full of quiet relief.

He pulled her closer, her leg sliding over his as the blankets shifted around them. The fire crackled softly, casting amber light across their bare skin. “Let’s stay here a little longer,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear. “Trying can wait till morning… or maybe not.” He smirked against her skin, the heat between them sparking again in the hush of their shared peace. "Are you very tired, love?"

kate chuckled when jorah joined her under the covers. she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips tenderly before hearing his words. a light chuckle escaped her lips as she whispered. "jorah mormont, you are such a flirt.." she caressed his face, looking at him with adoration as she was still trying to realize how lucky she became. her life became all of a sudden wonderful.

one of her hands slid between them just to rest on her stomach. she looked at him in the eyes and whispered. "i know that we will be blessed eventually with a child, my love. it takes time, but eventually, we will know." resting her forehead against his, the woman simply kissed his nose as she relaxed.

"and until then, we will keep trying. and i will also finally relax and get used to our new life." she confessed, still trying to adapt to this new lovely lifestyle. kate wasn't used to having everything happen without consequences. she wasn't used to getting such beautiful lifestyle. and yet, here she was, in her new home with her loving husband. what else could she dream of?

[isles-of-man]

Jorah felt his breath catch as he watched Kate slide under the blankets, her skin glowing in the dim candlelight of their bedroom. The weight of his exhausting day seemed to melt away at the sight of her. His beautiful wife, possibly carrying their child. The thought alone made his heart race.

"You don't have to ask me twice," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

He shed his own clothing with deliberate slowness, feeling Kate's eyes on him. The tension between them was palpable, electric. When he finally slipped beneath the covers beside her, the warmth of her body against his sent a familiar thrill through him.

Jorah reached out, tracing the delicate curve of her collarbone with his fingertips. Her skin was impossibly soft, like silk beneath his calloused hands. He marvelled at the contrast—his rough, weathered touch against her perfect smoothness. "You are exquisite," he breathed, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear. "The most beautiful woman I've ever known."

kate smiled as jorah sat on the bed and just caressed her waist. she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him take all this loving energy. after a long day at work, probably very gruesome, kate wanted her husband to feel that he was in a good place. he had his wife by his side and he was now safe. her fingers caressed his hair tenderly as she looked at him in the eyes. it was incredible how she loved him so madly. he was the sun of her life, the one who got her out of a terrible destiny. she owed him her life and love.

his words made her chuckle as she shook her head. "i believe that it's a bit too soon to actually get this confirmed. so far i don't feel different." she chuckled. she had heard about the changes of a woman's body. the breasts swelling, ready to be filled with milk, a small belly growing month by month. a certain pregnancy glow as well, hearing that women were even more beautiful while carrying life.

"i believe we shall found out in a few weeks." she said, caressing his face tenderly. she slowly unlaced her corset, letting it loosen up so she could finally reveal her pale breasts. slowly getting rid of the beautiful dress she bought, kate stood naked in front of her husband, her green hues now sparkling as she climbed in the bed to be by his side.

this was her favorite moment of the day: sharing the bed with jorah, feeling him close to her, warming her. loving her. slowly sliding her legs under the blankets, kate watched jorah and whispered: "are you joining me?" she patted his side, ready to just having him holding her.

[isles-of-man]

Oscar sank deeper into the couch, one arm slung lazily along the backrest, his fingers idly brushing the seam of the cushion while his gaze stayed locked on her. The morning light slid over her skin like honey, catching on the line of her waist, the curve of her thigh beneath the hang of a borrowed t-shirt. She wasn’t dancing for them, not exactly—but she wasn’t not, either. The way her hips rolled in time with the slow pulse of Let’s Dance, how her lashes lowered when she moved just a little too close to the edge of something—Oscar felt every bit of it like heat rising under his skin.

Beside him, Henry sat forward slightly, elbows on knees, a lazy half-smile curving his lips. His eyes traced her movements with a kind of quiet hunger, the kind that didn’t need to reach or take—just watch. His jaw worked subtly as she spun, then stilled, then swayed again, teasing the edge of rhythm and restraint. He didn’t speak. Neither of them did. There was something too thick in the air for words, something sultry and slow, like sweat at the base of the spine.

Oscar’s hand drifted to his knee, fingers spreading wide as if to ground himself. She’d paused at the record shelf, then turned again, hips still moving in lazy figure-eights, letting the music melt into her limbs. The way she touched the edge of her waistband—just a little too casually—had him adjusting his posture, his jaw tight, one brow raised. Henry exhaled quietly, a sound somewhere between appreciation and anticipation. Her teasing wasn’t loud. It didn’t scream. It suggested. It pulled tension tight like a bowstring.

Neither man moved to interrupt her. That wasn’t what this was. They sat back in their places like it was a show built just for them—built from sweat and vinyl and the heady scent of skin warmed by morning. The tempo built slowly, and so did the tension, while both men had eyes on her as she undressed. They weren’t impatient. The pleasure was in the watching, in the restraint, in knowing that whatever came next would come from her.

They were careful with Soren.. ,

For the unbearable moment that they were were apart, Soren was bursting with desire for affection. For a moment, she even looked broken hearted that they weren't pieced together, even if her lungs wanted to burst from the lack of air. She just stared at his lips, their perfect shade of red, wanting to kiss him until they were crimson, and bruised, slobbering into each other's mouths. Harry’s closeness felt like a warm jacket, the ones with the fleece in the lining that tickled her cheek. She turned her head, her nose nudging against the side of his jaw. She could stay here forever, just inhaling his scent.

When she finally did find the will to peel away from them, she did so slowly, keeping her fingers looped around theirs for as long as space and time permitted.

Sun light pooled in, cascading on her face as she padded around the room, still barefoot all this time. She was unsure of what she was looking for, a radio, maybe?, but when her eyes caught sight of the record player she smiled. “How did I know?” She didn’t want to assume, but well, she did, and she assumed correctly. Curious eyes peered inside to the record already there, but she wasn’t a big fan of that one. Piecing together the fragments of her escapees last night, she’d found where he kept his stash, idling through them with a small hum. Every now and then she’d look back at the two men, pursing her lips and quickly turning around like they weren’t meant to be watching her. She’d decided on the Let’s Dance record, even though “I always had a crush on Ziggy Stardust. It started when in grade school, she’d seen a picture of him with crouched and hunched over in a colorful two piece, and still he looked like the most beautiful man she had ever seen. The picture remained tucked beneath her pillow for the rest of the year, and even though Ziggy’s face got all crumpled up and he no longer looked like a beautiful extraterrestrial, she kissed it every night. “I have this picture in my store, that I keep in the adult section..” she told them, carefully sliding the record out, setting the sleeve aside. “It got traded to me a few years ago, it’s a picture of Bowie with just a bit of ballsack hanging out.” The record crackled as it was put on, and as music poured out of it, Soren smiled. Excitement and timidness led her to close her eyes, surrendering to the dark pulse that gripped her body. Bowie sang, and her hips began to sway, slow and hypnotic, syncing with the rhythm. Every note seemed to reach inside her, teasing out something raw and unspoken. Fingers, almost shy, found the edge of her waistband and toyed with the zipper. As the fabric eased down, it revealed the aftermath of desire, the mess they'd made of her.

[isles-of-man]

Erik watched Emily with a soft smile as she moved so naturally through their space, like she had always belonged there. Everything she did—from teasing him about stealing her skincare to casually mentioning what she’d wear—felt warm and familiar. Her playful comment about the movie made him chuckle, already knowing they wouldn’t make it to the end. Their connection ran deeper than small talk or plans; they understood each other without needing to try.

While she went to change, Erik dimmed the lights in the living room, turned on the soft fairy lights they’d strung together, and tossed a few pillows and blankets on the couch. Instead of heating tea, he reached for the bottle of red wine she loved, uncorked it, and poured two glasses. The rich aroma filled the air as he swirled his glass slowly, glancing toward the hallway with a soft grin, already anticipating the sight of her in his clothes.

When her voice called out—“I am ready!”—Erik turned and saw her standing there in his shirt and boxers, her hair down and her whole posture at ease. She looked effortlessly beautiful, like the perfect mix of comfort and intimacy. It wasn’t just the clothes or the way she smiled—it was how natural it all felt. Like she wasn’t just staying over—she was home. That quiet realization settled deep in his chest.

He brought the wine glasses to the couch, handed one to her, and slipped under the blanket beside her. His arm wrapped around her waist as she curled into his side. “Movie’s just background noise at this point,” he murmured, clinking his glass lightly against hers before kissing the top of her head. With her next to him, in that soft glow, Erik didn’t need anything else. This moment was enough.

emily chuckled, knowing that the attraction they had for each other was way stronger. they were soulmates, knew exactly how to communicate, how to love each other. her green hues watched him as she nodded. "a shirt and your boxers will be okay.." she whispered, chuckling at him as she then added: "i will then go and check on your drawer." she winked at her boyfriend before placing the rest of her products on the sink.

as she heard his words about stealing her skin care, emily laughed. "it's alright, i will buy more of it." she then showed him all the creams. "it's a step by step process..." she smirked as erik then said that he would go prepare the cozy place for them to watch the movie. "a movie that we won't probably finish? now i am curious about your plans.." she chuckled and then add. "i let you choose the movie then, i will go for a tea. with this weather, i want something that warms me completely."

his comment about the good pillow made her chuckle and she kissed his lips deeply. "i'll be there in a minute. i'm just finishing unpacking." she then walked in the bedroom and opened the drawers, where she placed the few clothes she had. she would definitely need to buy more and make a nice wardrobe now that she was living with erik. she wanted to always look elegant. "i will buy myself some pajamas once." she whispered, imagining already some nice outfits to wear when they decided to hide at home.

as she opened the drawers, emily took a black shirt and picked one of erik's boxers. she slowly changed herself, removed her bras and panties before then putting the shirt and boxers on. it was quite long and covering her whole ass, going down to her thighs. slowly walking downstairs, emily untied her long brown hair and made herself completely at home. she sat on the couch and pulled already the thick and warm blankets on her legs to keep warm.

"i am ready!" she said in a happy tone, waiting for erik to join her.

[isles-of-man]

Erik grinned as her laughter mixed with the gentle rhythm of the rain, wrapping the moment in something warm and intimate. Her excitement about their simple movie-day plans made his chest ache in the best way. As she turned to face him, eyes bright and playful, he let his hands linger on her hips, fingers tracing small circles. “Pyjamas, huh?” he echoed, voice low and teasing. “I might have a t-shirt that magically becomes yours the second you put it on… and maybe a pair of boxers you’ll claim are ‘way more comfortable’ than anything in your drawer.” He leaned in, brushing his lips just behind her ear. “But if you keep talking like that, we might not even make it to the popcorn.”

He chuckled softly as she bit her lip, clearly enjoying the tension between the sweetness of their moment and the spark of something deeper beneath it. She always had that effect on him—pulling him between tenderness and temptation without even trying. “Honestly,” he murmured, “you make even unpacking feel like foreplay.” His hands gave her hips a slow, deliberate squeeze, then slid back as he let his forehead rest against the side of her head. Her skin was warm, soft, and familiar now in the way that made him feel like he was finally exactly where he belonged.

Pulling back just enough to see her face in the mirror again, Erik smirked as she talked about claiming her side of the sink. “Well, you’ve definitely made your mark,” he said with a grin. “Just don’t be surprised when I start using your fancy skin products. Can’t have you looking ten years younger than me while I turn into a raisin.” He loved this—this blend of flirtation and domesticity, the quiet intimacy of shared space, shared routines, and the promise of more days just like this.

Kissing her temple, he let the moment settle before stepping back. “Alright,” he said, voice lighter, warm with affection. “You raid my drawer for something cozy. I’ll make the tea—or cocoa, dealer’s choice—and grab the softest blanket we’ve got. Then it’s you, me, a storm outside, and a movie we probably won’t finish.” He flashed her a look over his shoulder as he walked off. “And yes… you absolutely get the good pillow.”

the woman chuckled at her boyfriend's words and shook her head. "well that's okay, i plan to do the same as well..." she bit her lip as she then closed her eyes to feel him closer than ever. as much as she loved their passionate exchanges, emily loved also sweet ones like this one. she loved having him close to her, holding her, protecting her. her smile grew as she just hummed, the sound of the rain being so soothing.

as he mentioned the movie marathon with this weather, her face lit up as she turned around to face him. "oh i love that! do you have pajamas for me too?" she asked, laughing lightly. "i want to wear pajamas and hide under the blankets in your arms. popcorn sounds great! should we make some tea as well? or a hot cocoa?" the plan sounded perfect. "i love this plan so much, i am ready for it."

turning around to place the things in the bathroom, emily laughed at his comment. "well, there is an empty side with an empty sink. i am just making sure to show anyone that the place is taken." she winked at erik, knowing that he was more than trustworthy. emily smiled and felt his hands on her hips. his whispers made her shiver and she laughed as she added: "no, it's just my caring products. i want to take care of my skin so when i'm older, i still look fresh." she chuckled.

his words made her laugh, his hands now wandering on her body. she looked at him via the mirror and whispered: "you can have all your fun anywhere, my love." she bit her lip before asking. "so... do you have pajamas for me? i am excited to put on some comfy clothes." she said, ready to change her clothes and be more at home.

[isles-of-man]

Jorah listened closely as Kate recounted her day, his gaze fixed on her with quiet admiration. The way her face lit up when she spoke of the villagers, the silks and gifts, and Rosie’s gentle care stirred something warm in his chest. He smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You deserve every bit of that kindness,” he said softly. “This place was never meant to just be shelter—I wanted it to feel like home for you.” When she mentioned Rosie’s family, he nodded, thoughtful. “She’s a good woman. Loyal. If she’s watching over you, I can breathe easier when I’m not here.”

Jorah’s lips curved into a faint smile as Kate led him by the hand. He followed her silently, his steps slower now, not from weariness but from the simple contentment of being near her. As they entered their quarters, his eyes swept the room briefly—the fire glowing warmly in the hearth, the bed already turned down, the quiet hum of peace settling in his chest.

He let her guide him toward the edge of the bed, then reached out, gently circling her waist with his arms. He looked up at her from where he sat, his hands running slowly along the sides of her dress, as if grounding himself in the feeling of home. He leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against her belly, arms circling her waist. For a long moment, he said nothing, just held her there, breathing her in — the scent of her skin, the faint trace of oil and firewood. 

He looked up at her, his fingers brushing along her hips before finding her hands and holding them loosely in his. His thumbs moved in slow, idle circles along her knuckles. A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he gently pulled her closer and touched her stomach. “I wonder, after last night, if we have already conceived our little bairn.”

kate smiled at jorah as she nodded quietly. she looked back at him and let him kiss her forehead. it was incredibly how a simple gesture warmed her whole body and made her feel at home. her green hues looked at him with warmth and love as she then looked back down for a few seconds. she loved seeing him in that linen shirt, so relaxed and refreshed. the woman knew that his job wasn't easy at all, she knew that he had to deal with blood and gruesome scenes. she still hoped that once home, he would erase those images and focus on something lighter, something sweeter.

hearing about his day made her shiver. she hoped to never witness any of this, even if it's just a training. the simple thought of blood was making her turn pale and almost faint. there were terrible things in this world. kate had suffered from men's cruelty but gladly never witnessed anything bloody. only sexual. "i see.." she whispered, noticing his tired features. "i don't want to imagine how this yard looked like.. nor how you were at the end of the day." covered with blood, probably? she shivered again.

as he then asked her about her day, the woman smiled. "oh, my day was smoother compared to yours. almost like a fairy tale if i must say." she chuckled and sighed before then looking back at her husband. "rosie introduced me to the villagers, they all welcomed me with gifts. some silks, a bread.. they were all extremely kind and heartwarming. i've never experienced this before. there was a certain form of respect in their way of being." she said sweetly before nodding at his words. "thank you, my love.."

she then sat straight on her chair. "rosie is married to the blacksmith of the village. they have two kids..." she explained, showing her interest for the woman who took good care of her. "she's a hard worker, you can trust her."

after the dinner, kate slowly stood up and thanked rosie for the wonderful meal. she took jorah's hand and led him upstairs to their private quarters. a fire was already set in the hearth, making the room comfortable for them. "you must be exhausted, come and rest in the bed." she whispered, looking at him tenderly.

[isles-of-man]

When she promised she'd always be there, loving him more each day, Erik's grin softened. He gently kissed her shoulder again before whispering near her ear, “Dangerous promise, you know… I plan on giving you a thousand reasons a day to fall even harder.” He rested his forehead against the side of her head for a moment, breathing in her scent, memorising the quiet peace of having her here, really here, with him.

As the rain drummed steadily outside, Erik glanced toward the window with a smirk. “You know, this weather’s practically begging for a movie marathon,” he spoke after a moment. “I say pyjamas, blankets, and a ridiculous amount of popcorn. We can argue about which movie to start with—rom-com or something with explosions. After dinner - I’ll make us something quick. Pasta and a little wine?” he asked. 

Erik leaned in the doorway, watching as Emily arranged her things with quiet precision. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Look at you,” he said, voice low and teasing, “already marking your territory.” He stepped in behind her, his hands finding her hips as he leaned in close, lips brushing just behind her ear. “Should I be worried you're planning a total takeover? Because I might not put up much of a fight.”

Erik leaned in behind her, hands sliding around her waist as his lips brushed the side of her neck. His fingers grazed the hem of her shirt, slow and deliberate. “ I don’t mind,” he added, smirking against her skin. “Just promise—if I give you the bathroom, you’ll let me have my fun in the bedroom.”

emily smiled at erik as he spoke those loving words. let's make this place feel even more like yours. her smile grew fonder as to her, she already felt at home. with him. "it's already ours, with us and our love for each other." she whispered before then unpacking her clothes. she gently set everything on the counter before closing her suitcase and storing it next to erik's, in a cupboard. she was starting to learn where to place this rightfully.

she laughed when erik commented about the closet. as he wrapped his arms around her, emily could feel his chin on her shoulder and smiled as she paused to enjoy this moment of love and intimacy. she loved when they just stayed this way, feeling his energy filling hers. her smile grew as she heard his whisper. "i promise you that i'll always be here, waiting for you and loving you every single day more." she smiled as she just caressed his arms.

ten years waiting for this moment, emily was now eager to start this life with erik. they both already had a wild start, now she was eager to take this day as a sweet one. it was raining hard outside and the only thing she wanted was to hide under the blankets and cuddle him while watch a movie that both would enjoy. something simple but that she adored dearly.

she heard his words and smiled before then whispering. "well.. how about something simple? anything you'd crave for, i'll be happy with it." she took her caring products and walked upstairs to the master bedroom, where the bathroom was. placing carefully her things, emily smiled as she saw that now he had his sink and she had hers. her heart swelled with pride at this moment.

[isles-of-man]

He moved toward her, his steps quieter now, softened by the presence of something precious. She looked up, smiled, and stood with a grace that made him forget, for a moment, how many hours he’d spent in the sun shouting over clashing swords. “You’re a sight I’ve needed all day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead before letting her guide him to the table. His training tunic had been swapped for a clean linen shirt, though the weight of his leather belt and boots still marked him as a man never quite off duty. Still, with her, the edge dulled. He could breathe.

She asked him about his day, and he gave her the truth—not just the bloodless version. “Grueling,” he admitted with a dry smile. “Two recruits couldn’t even lift their blades properly. One tried to parry by closing his eyes. The others are coming along, though. A few of them will make proper soldiers, if they stop trying to impress each other long enough to listen.” He paused, shaking his head, the humor in his eyes not quite masking the fatigue. “I swear, I’ve fought quieter battles than that yard today.”

But even as he spoke, he was watching her. The way her hand reached instinctively to pour his cup. The way she leaned forward, genuinely listening. The way her presence filled the space so completely that he hardly noticed the ache in his shoulders anymore. “What about you?” he asked, voice lower now, meant only for her. “You seem like you’ve been spoiled in all the right ways.” His gaze wandered to the tea, the silk at her waist, the soft flush in her cheeks. “You deserve it. All of it. And more.”

Dinner came, but Jorah found himself more interested in the conversation than the food. The clatter of cutlery, Rosie’s quiet footsteps in and out, the murmur of wind against the window—it all faded into the background. What mattered was this: the calm in her eyes, the curve of her smile, and the peace he hadn’t known he’d been longing for until he found it sitting across from him.

kate smiled when her husband entered the living room, standing in her brand new dress and looking at him with perky hues. her heart raced as she approached him and blushed lightly at his compliment. she turned her head and looked at rosie, who made a small curtsy and shook her head. "oh, sir mormont, it was my pleasure. your wife is a sweetheart and i will always be here for her." kate smiled back at the maid before looking back at jorah.

"i am... and it eases my mind to know you are now home." she caressed his face tenderly before kissing his lips and humming at the feeling of her body now complete and against his. as she pulled away, the woman chuckled and nodded. "well go get changed, i will wait for you, don't worry."

she wasn't starving, she was simply eager to have this dinner with jorah. as she parted from him, the woman sat back by the fireplace and reopened her book to read it. she was peaceful, a little smile coming across her face as her green hues read the novel that she found. rosie brought her some tea and smiled at her. "thank you, rosie. i will wait for my husband to join for dinner."

her smile grew as she then waited quietly, reading her book peacefully. she was finally safe, in a place that she could call home and with a man that she truly loved. what else could she wish for at this stage?

as she finally sat by the dinner table, ready to share this meal with jorah, kate asked him: "how was your day?"

[isles-of-man]

Oscar didn’t look at Henry, but he felt him—just a half-step behind, close enough that his presence thrummed under the surface of everything. Soren’s voice still hung in the air, her breath on Oscar’s lips, and between them all was a tension that hummed, low and electric. She was flushed and fever-warm, her fingers still curled around their hands like she was anchoring herself with touch alone.

Henry moved first. Always quieter in these moments, more intuitive, he circled behind her, not touching yet, but close enough for her to feel him. His movements were slow, deliberate, his body a counterpoint to Oscar’s stillness. He didn’t need to say anything—he rarely did—but the way his hands hovered near her waist, just out of reach, offered something wordless: steadiness, patience. His mouth brushed the shell of her ear, not quite a kiss.

Oscar’s hand stayed at her face, thumb gliding gently across the edge of her cheek. He watched her without flinching, taking her in as her expression shifted—hesitation giving way to something more certain. She was giving them permission with her body, with the way she leaned slightly back into Henry, the way her mouth parted again like she might say something more, or maybe didn’t need to. The space was thick with the rhythm of waiting, and all three of them felt it.

Oscar finally spoke, his voice rougher now, softer. “Then pick it.” His eyes didn’t leave hers. “We’ll follow.” Behind her, Henry’s hand brushed the hem of her shirt, slow and teasing, a breath before contact. The moment stretched, warm and charged, suspended between decision and movement—between her choosing the music, and them learning the steps.

“Anyway I want?” Her voice trembled. Her eyes were big as they bore into his, brown orbs that whispered she had never done something like this before. Not that she was sexually inexperienced, but never anything like this, nothing aside from touching and kissing beneath a blanket with the lights off, too timid to look at each other’s bodies. Her cheeks were flushed. She supposed it was always there, what her mom's pastor would call filth; a little hidden, beneath her skin. What made her the most nervous was how they did it so effortlessly, playing her like an instrument, she couldn’t help but wonder, had they done this before? But she didn’t mind.. not at all.. because it felt so good to be their new muse. At every step they made her feel comfortable, it felt easy to fall into this.. Tucking a few strands away from her face, you could see the gentle flush of pink on her cheeks, her skin heating up. She was feverish to the touch as Henry kissed her temple. She Soren closed her eyes, clothes felt like too much right now, she wanted to rip them off her body, and silently a whisper began tantalizing her with fantasies of her fabrics being ripped off of her one by one by the two. It was written all over her face, unable to hide just the places her mind wandered to, sitting there, at their disposable. “I want,” her lips finally parted, “to dance with you.” She propped herself up on her knees, gazing between the two of them to read their expressions. There was a bit of mischief written on her face, her mind exploring the possibilities of her being pressed against the two, even with something so innocent as dancing. The music could help. Her fingers slid to loosely hold both their hands, dragging their soft palms to her warm cheeks, holding herself. It helped, in some weird way, that she hadn’t met them before, it made this easier, and if she embarrassed herself she didn’t have to come back. “And,” she drew close to Oscar’s lips, whispering softly against them, “I want to pick the music.”

[isles-of-man]

Oscar gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “Good,” he said, with quiet conviction. “If something bothers you or you want to make a change, I want to be the first to know. You don’t need to tiptoe around your own home.” The idea of her shaping the space around them, even just their shared room, warmed him more than he expected. Flowers on the table, her voice in the decisions—they were subtle marks of a life being built together, not just a queen adapting to a crown.

He laughed softly at her image of reading over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. These documents are more likely to put you to sleep than inspire any excitement.” Still, the thought of her next to him while he worked, quietly reading or teasing him now and then, struck him as oddly comforting. It wasn’t the silence he craved, but the presence—hers in particular—that would make the long hours more bearable.

Her request about court rumours brought a flicker of seriousness to his expression. “You have my word,” he said, his voice a little lower. “If I hear anything—no matter how small��I’ll tell you directly. You deserve that much, and more.” He didn’t pretend the court was without its games or whispers, but she would never be left alone in them. Not while he could stand beside her and keep some of the shadows at bay.

Her question about sex made him pause, not in discomfort but amusement. “There’s no rule, Eleanor,” he said, clearly entertained. “Morning, night, midday. It happens when it feels right, and preferably when both people are awake and interested. Beds help, but walls, tables… well, there’s a reason those books come with diagrams.” He raised a brow playfully. “Do I need to commission one for the library?” Her shove made him laugh. “Hey, I read the right book. I wouldn't just tease you. I am here to educate my wife."

“If, I ever find something I may want to change, I am going to you first.” She stated firmly, even if it was expected. She was worried of making any decisions regarding his kingdom without his input.

In all seriousness, she probably would find a book to read while he worked. She much rather stay up with him rather than sleep while her husband works after hours. Unless she was beyond tired, then she may fall asleep a few hours before her husband. “I will not talk your head off.” She assured him. “I may even read over your shoulder…if the paperwork is not all that boring.”

It was an entire kingdom that she needed to convince in accepting her. Not that there has been any alluding from his people yet about disliking her, but it was a fear still yet. “I’ll let you know when I need help, just please promise to tell me if you do hear anything bad about me. I’d rather hear it from you directly rather than overhearing gossip from the staff.” Though she’s sure a thing like that may lead to instant firing of it were to ever happen.

“Sex it is.” She said with a nod, trying to think of a genuine question she had more than one powered purely by lust. “I think I know my answer, but I am not entirely sure.” She prefaced because it did sound like a ridiculous question in her head. “Is it only something done at night? Is there an unspoken rule about when people do it? I guess night makes sense when you require a bed for it…” She trailed off, unsure which way she thought was the answer.

Eleanor rolled her eyes at what he said, not believing him one bit. “Oh stop it, that’s not a thing.” She said with a playful shove then. “Sounds like you might have read the wrong book.” Maybe that was the reality of the absurdness, that he mixed up one book with another? That made sense to her.

[isles-of-man]

Oscar's expression turned gentle at her reassurances. “Good,” he said simply. “You don’t need to worry about shaking the walls of the kingdom. You’ve already done more than enough just by showing up and being brave in the middle of it all.” He glanced at her with something quiet in his gaze. “Change comes whether we invite it or not. I’d rather it come from someone thoughtful—like you—than someone reckless.”

He chuckled at her sex book comment, the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “So this is what our nights will be—me with a ledger, you with diagrams. I’ll never get any work done.” His tone was warm, teasing, but when he met her eyes, it was clear he welcomed the thought. “I don’t want to be the kind of husband who closes off when he has a long day. If talking to me is what you need, I want to be available to you—even when the kingdom’s demanding otherwise.”

She spoke of her father, and Oscar nodded, taking the weight of her words with seriousness. “If he raised you to be as composed as you’ve been these last days, I already owe him thanks. And don’t worry about appearances here. No one expects you to be perfect—not even me.” His hand brushed hers lightly before taking it in his hand to give it a light squeeze. “Just be honest with me when it’s hard. I can carry it with you.”

Oscar gave her a sideways glance, clearly amused, and said, “Sex, then—since I quite enjoy the way your curiosity shows when you talk about it.” There was a lightness to his voice, teasing, but under it was genuine fondness. “You ask with this honesty, like you’re not trying to impress or pretend. It’s refreshing.” He bumped her gently with his arm as they walked. “And I admit, I’m invested in whatever’s going on in that clever mind of yours now that you’ve read half a chapter and are threatening to interrupt my paperwork with sex questions.” 

He smirked, pausing before adding more seriously, “Ask whatever you want. I’ll give you an answer— I can’t to see your face when you get to the chapter about ropes and bedposts.”

"I'm not going to start tearing your kingdom apart." She quickly said with a small shake of her head. Sure there were some requests she had for the castle, but those were mainly to stay within the bedroom. Eleanor did not want to dare mess with the kingdom itself as an outsider. "I'm sure your traditions here cannot be so absurd that I need to change them." She would hate if that was her reputation, making everything her own instead of allowing it to stay as it is.

That was something different that she would need to adjust to, not every night could she simply fall asleep the same time her partner does. It was a shared room and bed. Her first ping of worry had hit her then, even if he was assuring her that he would respect her space. "Well...while you sign off on plans I'll be reading the sex book, so just know if you do any work in bed, you are going to get interrupted by my sex questions." She decided to tease, but there was some truth to it. If he was going to do any work in bed, he should still expect some conversation with her.

"As long as I am not begging to go home in a week, I think he will be fine." She assured him, not thinking too deeply on if that is something she would find herself doing. It was a strange, it left an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach knowing that there was a kingdom out there that was going to know her and therefore have conflict with her. She wanted to say that she hoped his family would like her, but clearly he did not care too much of his family's opinion, so she refrained. "Well, you've answered my question. Would you rather the next question be about your family or sex?" She offered in attempt to shift the mood if it was what he wanted.

[isles-of-man]

Oscar gave a short nod, lips quirking faintly. “Fair enough. A quiet celebration here and there won’t kill me — as long as you don’t let that wedding planner near me again.” The teasing edge in his voice was soft but genuine. “But yes. Take your time. Watch. Learn what parts of this kingdom need dusting off, and what parts are older than either of us but still strong. Then make it your own. That’s what a queen should do.”

He shook his head slightly at her story, clearly amused. “That’s the sort of thing no training ever prepares you for. Twins in the guard — sounds like a problem waiting to happen.” A low chuckle escaped him. “No doubles here, thankfully. But you’ll still be learning faces for a while. You don’t need to pretend you know everyone yet. Just be curious. People remember when a ruler looks at them like they matter.”

Her joke about being hangry drew an amused glance from him. “Noted. I’ll keep you well-fed and the castle better for it.” But her next question made him pause, if only briefly. “Yes, I do. When I can’t sleep or when the work won't wait. I’ve had years of nights like that.” He looked at her directly, tone softening just a little. “But I’ll be mindful of the space. It’s yours now, too — and I don’t intend to let this marriage feel like living beside a minister’s desk or another war room.”

Her words about her father stirred something in him — not quite pain, not quite disbelief, but something delicate and uncertain. “Then I suppose I owe him more than just a thank you.” He paused for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. “As for my family… if they ever deserve to know you, I’ll send a letter.” He reached out then, gently brushing her hand with his. “They’ll hear soon enough. Word always travels. Whether it comes from a diplomat, a spy, or just a market whisper, they’ll know I’m no longer alone.” His tone cooled slightly, not bitter — just deliberate. “Let them wonder what that means.”

Eleanor nodded her head in agreement before hesitating for a moment. "Alright, but except for major holidays and birthdays. Those do not need to be anywhere near the scale of this, but should have something." She was sure to keep it at a manageable level if possible, and more of take a step back for the first year to help better understand his kindgom's traditions as she was sure there would be some variations.

"Oh it was a mess, I mean both brothers were excellent guards but still they are different people." She shook her head at the thought of it, but it truly was embarrassing more than anything. "I will make sure I know all of the siblings or relatives within this castle first, because that is not happening again."

"Thank goodness we are in agreement of that, for your sake, I'd hate for you to see me hangry." It was a light hearted joke, but truly she did not want that to happen because she knows she'll start some passionate arguments then. "So do you work in bed then?" She asked a follow up catching his mentioning of working late. "As in...it'll be midnight yet you will be signing papers in bed."

"If my father did not approve, we would not be married." She knew that for certain of her father. While she did not have much of say in things, she knows her father does and would have never allowed it to get far if he did not trust the man to watch over his daughter. "Well, if you ever want me to write a letter to them, let me know." Though by the sounds of it, she doubts that would happen in the near future. "I'm sure they have heard of me, or will soon." Obviously no invitation was sent to them, but how quick did word spread? Did another kingdom tell? Or was it only a matter of time until they discover Oscar was newly married?

[isles-of-man]

Oscar let out a short, knowing breath — almost a laugh — at her declaration. “That sounds fair. After surviving a royal wedding, five years is a reasonable sentence before facing another one.” He glanced at her sideways, a bit of humour softening his features. “You handled it all better than most would’ve. The rest,” he nodded toward the blooms around them, “can stay as it is. No ceremonies, no advisors… just something that grows without needing applause.”

He opened the small iron gate with a soft creak, motioning her through before following behind. Her story about the twin made his brow lift. “That sounds like a diplomatic nightmare,” he said dryly, but with clear amusement. “I’ll give the guards a warning — no secret siblings, or they’ll answer to their queen’s flash cards.” The smile that followed was subtle but real. “Knowing who’s in your home is worth the effort. If nothing else, it keeps you from harm. Something a king knows well - to avoid being harmed.

At the mention of snacks, Oscar gave an approving nod. “That’s smart. I do the same when I’m working late — dried fruit, bread, something light. Not everything needs to be a full spread with silver trays.” He looked ahead thoughtfully. “If you want something kept in the room, tell the staff. Quietly. They’ll rotate it out daily, so it’s fresh; it’s no fuss.”

Her next question slowed his steps a bit. He glanced down, then over to her, weighing the thought, not avoiding it. “Your father’s approval… I didn’t expect it, but I’m not foolish enough to take it lightly and I am honoured.” He was quiet for a breath, then added, “As for meeting any of them… there’s no one I’d introduce you to now. Not until this war ends — and even then, only if the outcome makes it safe to do so.” His tone wasn’t bitter, but resolute. “If ever there’s someone worth knowing from that past, you’ll know them. But I won’t put you in front of anyone who ever stood by and watched me fall.” He looked ahead again, voice firm but low. “You’re my wife. Not my offering.”

“All it has taught me is that I am not interested in assisting planning an event for at least…five years.” She would still do it if asked but anything close or special to her would be difficult. The next possible event she could think of she would want more personal input would be for a baby…but that felt very far down the road to her currently. It was thoughtful, and did give a another layer to this garden’s significance. That there were pieces of his old home here. “They’re lovely.” She told him simply. Eleanor was slightly curious of her kingdom also had books like that, and she simply was never permitted to access them. She is sure she would have noticed a book like that in her castle library. What she did not want to do is think who might have held onto those books.

Eleanor followed him towards the gate. “I won’t put anything awful in those cards.” She quickly assured. “More so I know everyone’s rotations, I will admit there was one time at my palace where for a month we had this new hire and I had no clue…because he was a twin! Could you believe that? Oh I was so embarrassed…So I do want to make sure that never happens again.” A very rare instance, but the embarrassment she felt had been terrible.

“Oh yes, I do normally keep snacks somewhere in my room.” He helped her remember that just then. “Not like plates of food, but something. Even something simple as a bowl of fruit. It’s nice to just have if I need something but do not want to ask staff to go to the kitchen and make an ordeal of it.” It certainly was nice to ask staff when she was craving something, but a simple afternoon snack was nice to had.

“I understand.” Eleanor said when he explained what relations he did have, how silence and ignorance can still hurt. “I’ve already told you this, but my father seems to like you. He is not an easy man to please.” She attempted to assure Oscar that he had some other family now even if it was not much. “Would you ever have me meet them? Any of them?” Eleanor lightly pressed then, more out of her own curiosity.