Thread: Between Love and Hate (Sølvi versus xxplaywithmexx)

The sudden brush of a touch at her hand made her turn and face her brother. Soon enough, a frown began to crease the lines of her forehead. She let Daycens hand drop from hers as he meant to guide her back into his chambers. This odd display of affection, of near sensitivity, didnt sit well with Solveig. It was a huge change from what had transpired the previous night. The rough, brutal, near violent fucking Daycen had forcefully submitted her to. She had become addicted to it. Now, he seemed as meek and coy as a kitten. She didnt want a kitten, couldnt care less for a kitten. And so Solveig drew her hand back and scoffed at her brother, a haughty, condescending little noise coming from her. You have to try a lot harder than that, brother. Solveig wasnt satisfied with just the prey. The hunt, their hunt was far too intoxicating to let go. Daycen was not meant to be kind to her. They were not friends. They were barely lovers. They were two twisted individuals, nothing else. Anything more than that, Solveig simply did not want to think about. That in itself was far more dangerous territory than what brother and sister were doing and had been doing thus far. No, just sex was enough. Just sex was all that she required of her brother. And he better damn well get that through his head. Fueled by the new spark of anger, her smaller frame shoved Daycen up against the wall next to the entranceway. Instantly her arm came up to press against his throat, raising herself to meet Daycens taller stance by standing on the tips of her toes. A near feral grin began to spread across her lips, before she hissed words of venom once more. The journey made you weak. If you want something, you bloody well take it. Asking her to keep it down.. what a meek, idiotic little kitten. Prince.. she scoffed again, condescending, before she took a step back, her bright green eyes gazing at the male splitting image of herself. The same overwhelming sense of self-love threatened to bubble to the surface and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to tear her brothers clothes off. However, he needed to learn a lesson. She wanted him angry. There was no room for tenderness in their twisted relationship. If I didnt know any better, Id say you were the princess, not I. There, that should do it. Near giddily she waited for that spark that would ignite in Daycens eyes. The way he set his jaw, the way his hands would ball up into fists. Their moment was interrupted by one of the guards who suddenly seemed to appear and looked as if he was about to shit himself for interrupting the royal pair. My l-liege he nodded to Daycen Princess a deeper nod to Solveig. Your presence is r-required downstairs.. the innkeep, he has been plagued by bandits. He hoped to discuss it with you over supper, Prince Daycen. The guard, white as a sheet, waited for either sibling to speak. Solveig would be the first. Great. Im starving. She gave her brother no second glance as she moved past the guard and down the stairs. Once there, she was met by smells that made her mouth water and sounds that made her feel strangely at ease. Solveig had a superiority-complex, that much was true, but she often longed for human interaction other than her servants and her trainers. They never forgot who she was. Princess. Royal heir. They all looked so at ease. So happy , enjoying themselves without a care in the world.. somewhere she heard her name being mentioned, the poor man had no idea Solveig was near as he boasted. That princess! Eesh, give me an evening alone with her and shell barely be able to walk come morning! laughter met his words, although that died down soon enough as she approached and the first of the mans friends realized who she was. An evening alone, huh.. Silence met her words. The music died. Solveig came to stand before the man, whose alcoholic deep flush threatened to disappear instantly. She eyed him up and down with disdain. Not too long ago, she would have had his head. But things were changing. What point was there to hold up the perfect faade when shed willingly get ploughed by her own flesh and blood? She grinned a little grin then. Youd need a week, at least, from the looks of it. She wiggled her pinky finger in front of his face, and for a few breathless seconds, no one spoke a word.. until the boisterous man started chortling, his mind too clouded with alcohol to think straight. Soon his friends couldnt hold their laughter either, and before she knew it, she was laughing with them. Solveig relieved the big man of his ale mug, and took a big swig. Let Daycen deal with the bureaucracy. She enjoyed the attention, the sudden lapse of normalcy. She was still better than all of them. Could still crush them with a single command. But tonight she joined in. Tonight, she laughed and ate with the commoners who she had so often referred to as filthy. An hour passed, her eyes caught glimpses of Daycen talking to the innkeep, until she was disturbed by a particularly balsy singer. He danced around her with his lute or flute or whatever the fucking thing was, trying to seduce her with his sing-songy words. He was a youngling, a heartthrob to many girls, Solveig was sure of this. But, all she could think of was how annoying and incompetent he was. Everything paled in comparison to her brother. Fuck. She peeled herself free from the handsy singer, she did not bother excusing herself, she was the Princess after all, and moved to the cellar. Solveig had every intention to help herself to some of the innkeeps wine. Stingy bastard was probably keeping it to himself. And so down the steps Solveig went, the noises of the inn getting more distant, but only slightly. Ah-ha. Knew it. She muttered to herself as she laid eyes upon the big oaken barrels.