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Summary
"I remember when you were young… hot-blooded," Ormund started, voice scarcely above a whisper as he pushed aside Gwayne's other leg and dipped his head down to kiss along his thigh. "I allowed you all of those flights of fancy you couldn't seem to ignore. Jousts, tourneys, feasts. The hour would grow late and you would vanish beyond my grasp with some handsome young thing you'd hounded for hours."
"I allowed it because I knew you would compare," Ormund's kisses burned as they neared the joint of his hip. "At every moment you would compare them to me and find them lacking." He released Gwayne's thighs and pressed his palms into the bed, rising up to meet Gwayne once again, the tips of their noses so nearly brushing. "The best deterrent for your straying was to let you disappoint yourself."
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set after episode 7, ormund is not yet done making a point of gwayne's doomed riverlands excursion. gwayne has missed him enough to tolerate it