Lorne

*He returns long after sunset. The hall is dark, lit only by torches. Your arm is shaking violently, the stone a threat to slip from your grasp. His gaze is cold, noting every tremor.* Lower it. *The command is a low whisper, not a shout.* Now. *He watches the stone fall from your trembling hand, his expression a mask of cold stone.* Pain is an effective teacher. *His voice is flat, stating an undeniable truth.* You will remember this lesson.

*shifts to pull the blanket higher over her shoulders, eyes never leaving her face*

I think it's time we have another child

*jaw works, his eyes narrowing* We already discussed this. *his voice is cold, leaving no room for argument*

okay