{ forbidden fruit ~ GoT Open

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She frowned, her head. Stared at her daughter. Gripped both her hands in a gentle, motherly way. "Briar. That shall change. For you are a daughter, and always will be. I am honored to call myself your mother, even if I did not raise you."

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Briar wrapped her arms around Anita's waist and hugged her tightly, "I wouldn't mind calling you mother. You have been a better mother than I ever could have hoped for."

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"I don't think so, but thank you." She hugged them back.

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She frowned and patted Anita's back, "We should go to dinner now, right?"

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"Yes. It'll be Jean-Claude, myself, your father, and I. Where would you like to sit?"

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Briar pursed her lips, "I would like to sit next to you, but it doesn't really matter."

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"Then sit next to me you shall." Anita nodded, dark hair flying about her face before settling down onto her shoulders, over the gown she wore. "Let us go?"

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Briar smiled brightly and nodded, "I'm starving," she chirped, heading out of the room.

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Anita followed, her bare feet making little to no noise on the floor of the castle.
"Briar?"

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"Hmm?" Briar looked over at Anita, blinking, "Yes?"

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"Why do you stay here? You could go with Jean-Claude."

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Briar looked shocked, "But..this is my home." She pursed her lips, "And Jean-Claude isn't my husband. It would be inappropriate to leave with him."

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"That is true, Briar. I was merely curious." Anita shrugged. "You are of age, are you not?"

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"I'm seventeen," Briar answered, hazel eyes flicking down, "I've never been on my own before, though. Never been without my family."

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Anita gave a soft hum, stroking a hand over Briar's hair in an absent move.

And then, we skip to months later.
"Briar! Time to awaken!" It was Jean-Claude.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Briar's eyes fluttered open, her mind still hazy with sleep. She was feeling hazy, but comfortable, as she stretched out in her bed. Her pale blue nightgown rode up past her knees and she rolled onto her back, snuggling against the pillow, "Mmm.."

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Without thinking, he reached out, touched her leg with soft, silky fingertips. "Briar." His voice was low, soft.

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

Briar smiled and her body wiggled a little at the ticklish sensation his fingertip created on her leg, "Jean-Claude," She giggled, hazel eyes flitting to his face.

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His hand soon caressed her leg, rubbing up and down with soft, gentle movements. He lowered his knees to the bed, crawled over it until he was on his back, her leg slung around his waist. "Good morning, ma belle."

[нαℓƒ~мσση]

"Good morning," Briar's smile was sleepy, but her eyes were bright. She turned her head, gazing over at him. Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, running her fingertips along his cheekbone, "I'm happy to see you."