Greatwater Lake marathon

For Aktaie, the dance was a game — particularly when it came to Greyjoy. They had grown up together, from sprite and spawn, to high priestess and hoplite. He had always been devoted, and it had been some time since his ire towards her treatment of him had flared. Still, it took some of the sport out of their relationship (or at least changed the rules), and the priestess occasionally found herself testing his limits.

She glared at him as she ate and he settled to rest. Lazy, she thought, though deep down she knew that wasn't true. If she had truly wanted fish, Greyjoy would drown for her if it meant she would feast upon what she desired. But he was right; the iron would be good for her, regardless of her disdain for its taste.

"Soon," she told him, attempting a carefree tone. But she longed for it, too, and she conceded, "In a few days, after we have rested."