(Already posted, but deleted-- dunno how many people saw it.)
They laid together on the ledge by the window, Basilisk leaning over Lethlana, kissing her forcefully, his hands snaking up her dress. Her thin frame pressed against his, she was quiet, obedient, eyes shut tightly. Her hands played with his hair, occasionally gripping his back.
Basilisk pulled away, still leaning over her, and he cupped her face in his hands before kissing her gently on the forhead. Lethlana tried to smile, but Basilisk's face was like stone, and her attempts would have gone unnoticed anyway. His fingers trailed down her neck, winding and circling over her skin. Before Lethlana could protest, his fingers had encircled her neck just under her chin. She opened her eyes, looking up, shocked, but soon her expression softened.
He crushed her throat with his lily-white hands, his teeth clenched tight, alabaster tendons surrounding her pale neck. Lethlana didn't bother struggling, just stared calmly up into Basilisk's face, her arms by her sides. They were both silent, looking at each other, the only thing breaking the quiet was the sound of warm rain outside in Aterheilm. The candles burned low and the smell of spice and wet grass spun through the air.
"Why aren't you struggling," Basilisk hissed. Lethlana didn't bother to answer. The man squeezed tighter, and Lethlana choked out,
"To make you happy."
He finally took his hands away, and turned from her, and Lethlana coughed, unmoving, closing her eyes. She turned onto her side and sat up, looking at Basilisk's back. She wiped the sweat from her face and slid up next to him. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and then away, down at his hands. She wrapped her arms around him, but he stayed motionless.
"Basi," she whispered, "I'm sorry."
Basilisk still said nothing, and Lethlana leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes against the folds of his shirt.
"Did... did Loki say what's to happen with Dragon and Griffin," Basilisk asked.
"He'll take care of them," Lethlana answered.
"And their Ts'aal forms..."
"You have nothing to worry about."
"What a waste," Basilisk muttered. "To give that power to a pair of worthless brats. To carry on these... abilities. Such a waste," he said, shaking his head sadly. Lethlana held onto him tighter, gently smoothing his rough grey hair with her lithe fingers.
"But now you have someone to carry on your name," Lethlana said. Basilisk snorted.
"My name," he scoffed, "they'll forget my name and everything that went along with it. And so they should. Did you see Dragon's face, when his wings unfolded, that look of suffering... how weak. If they were my children, they would be strong, unfaltering."
"They are your children!" Lethlana said, taking her arms from him. "They're just young! Of course they were scared!"
"They shouldn't have been!" Basilisk roared, standing up. "You wouldn't understand, your blood is thin, your lineage means nothing to the history of Aterheilm. You gave them your frailty!" he yelled. Lethlana watched him, troubled eyes seeking out his in the dim light. Basilisk eyed her for a moment before turning and descending the stairs to the door, flinging it open, marching out to the rain. Lethlana watched him go, afraid to go after him. She turned away from the door. Slowly she reached her arms up around her shoulders, folding over onto her knees, hair falling over her face as she pressed her forehead to the floor, hopelessly, helplessly, praying that her sons would be able to find solace elsewhere.