A true knight always finishes a story...

The crowd roared the moment Thunder charged into their sight, but the blood pounding in Dunk's ears, combined with the steel enclosing his head, muted the sound enough to not distract him--though somehow he could still feel it in his chest, spurring him on just as he had spurred the warhorse beneath him. His line of vision was severely limited, yet it was enough for him to see that something vital was missing from his sight. There should be a horse and rider bearing down on him with brutal force, but Dunk couldn't see them. He'd already ridden past the halfway point in his lane, yet there rode no opponent contending against him. He knew from the games and movies he'd seen back home, and from the tilts he had witnessed on his first day here, that there was always two knights in a joust--and Egg had made no reference to expect anything different. So where was this Ser Rathaway that the real Ser Duncan had challenged? Was there something more expected of him before the battle truly commenced?

He was running out of lane, and Dunk made the only decision he could. He could hear Vicki's voice drilling him on how to slow his horse down. "It boils down to those three simple things," she had told him, "Seat. Legs. Hands. Your instinct will be to tighten your legs and pull hard on the reins, but you need to do the opposite. If the way horses are trained here is anything like they are back home--and they must be, because Chestnut responded exactly as I expected--those cues will be enough to slow Thunder's pace and eventually get him to stop."  As he'd practiced, Dunk shifted his weight back, relaxed his legs just a bit, and applied a light backward rein, and sure enough, Thunder gradually halted once they'd reached the champions end of the lane. Yet still, he saw no sign of the missing knight or his squire, or any of the retinue that usually attended the wealthy, landed knights. He reined his horse to turn and face the challengers end, confused and uncertain of what to expect next.

The cheers of the crowd had become disjointed rumbles of disappointment and outright angry jeers. Not directed at Dunk, as far of he could discern, but there was a harsh feel of hostility about it. But what happens next, he was wondering, and what the hell am I supposed to do now? He could see Egg and Vicki still standing where he'd left them, both waving at him with arms held high. He gently prompted Thunder into taking a few steps forward--evoking cheers from the spectators--and both of them broke into a run towards him. For good or for ill, Dunk decided to meet them in the middle.

"Egg, what does this mean?" Dunk had to raise his voice enough so that the boy would be able to hear him over the din of the smallfolk. "Is there something I've missed?"

"I'm not sure, Ser," Egg shrugged, then held out his hands to take Dunk's lance. "It could be a forfeit, but usually they send a page or a squire to the Herald of the Joust to make it official."

All three of them turned to the dais reserved for the nobility and their guests, and indeed they saw a man wearing the Rathaway colors in deep conversation with the Herald. Dunk removed his stifling helm, gasping in a lungful of fresh, cooler air, handed it to Vicki, and finally dismounted. At that same time, the Herald blew a long note on his horn, which brought the crowd to a quick, expectant silence.

"Winner of today's first tilt, Ser Duncan the Tall!" The herald paused while the crowd hooted their approval. "Victory by forfeit over Ser Silas Rathaway."

The smallfolk began to chant 'Ser Duncan' over and over, and all Dunk wanted to do at that moment was melt right into the ground at his feet. He'd done nothing to earn their approval and certainly didn't feel that he deserved such adulation. His ears and cheeks felt the hottest they'd been since he'd woken up in this impossible place. "Is this...is this normal, Egg? All I did was ride a horse into an empty arena..."

"You're still a champion to them, Ser," he replied matter of factly. "And I think maybe it's also on account of the lives you saved when you stopped that runaway wheelhouse from rolling over those folks," Egg suggested.

But that wasn't me, Dunk started to say, then realized that wouldn't make sense to the boy.

Vicki laid her hand on his arm. "Just go with it, Duncan," she advised quietly, "It's all for the real knight's sake anyway."

"Right," he nodded, giving her a small smile, "Thanks, V."

"My pleasure, Ser." The brightness of her eyes had him daring to believe they shone just for him. "Always, Duncan," she added softly enough so that Egg didn't hear it, "Whatever you need."

"Ser," Egg tugged his other arm, then pointed to two figures approaching them, leading a stately looking blue roan. The horse was saddled and armored, and bore two large, full-looking sacks hanging down on either side of it's saddle. Egg gave a low whistle,"This is breaking with tradition..."

"What is?"

"Presenting you with his arms, right here on the field of your victory..."

Vicki gasped softly. "Right! I'd forgotten that was even a thing. We don't do that at the Eynsford Faire."

Dunk was looking back and forth between them, clearly in the dark. "I'm sorry, but can one of you tell me what's going on?"

"You've really forgotten this too, Ser?

"The man wearing the sling is Ser Rathaway, and I'm guessing the boy with him is his squire," Egg explained patiently. "And you'll have the choice between seizing his horse and his armor, or collecting a ransom from him equal to their value."

Dunk wondered how much longer the kid would accept a concussion as a valid excuse for the huge gaps in 'Ser Duncan's' knowledge. "Humor me, would'ja, Egg? I'm as honestly frustrated about this as you are."

Dunk shook his head. "No. No, that can't be fair, let alone right. I mean, look at him. He wouldn't have been able to lift a lance with an injury like that. Or even fight by sword. I can't...I won't do that to him. It'd be the same as kicking a man when he's down." He turned to Vicki, "You know what I mean, right?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Yes, you know I do." She laid her hand over his heart. "Follow your instinct, Duncan. Do just what your heart tells you to do."

"She's right, Ser," Egg concurred. "As much as we could use the coin, it's your choice to make. You wouldn't be the first Knight to show mercy to your opponent."

Dunk would've liked to be able to ask the squire exactly what Ser Duncan would do in these circumstances, which was impossible. But based on the things he'd learned about him, his gut told him the the real knight would reject such an effortless win just as Dunk would himself. "Mercy it is then." The decision made, he stepped forward, feeling a self-assurance that usually eluded him back in his real life. Egg and Vicki trailed slightly behind him, with Thunder in tow.

Until that moment, Ser Rathaway had been but a name and a shadow that filled Dunk with a very mortal fear. Seeing him up close, and injured as well, was a far different thing. He had a young, unlined face, though his beard leant a maturity that blunted his youthfulness. He looks just a few years older than me, Dunk reckoned, and I'm bigger for sure, and probably far stronger too. He likely would've beat me anyway, but I might've held my own for a little while, at least. The man's accent was rough to his ears, in an english so broken that Dunk couldn't understand at least half of what he said. Still, they managed to communicate well enough so that Rathaway eventually understood that Dunk required neither his arms nor his gold in compensation for his 'victory'. The knight was so surprised and grateful for the generous clemency that he embraced Dunk with no warning, finally landing him a hearty backslap before departing the field. 

Once the smallfolk realized what they had just witnessed, a mighty cheer erupted, with further chants of his name. Ser Duncan's name. Dunk found the sound and the spirit of it overwhelming, and though it was clearly all positive he had never felt more embarrased in his entire life. It was simply too much.

But then there was Vicki, coming to his side, managing a rescue of sorts. Using his arm to give herself a boost enough to speak closer to his ear, she gently urged him, "You need to acknowledge them, Duncan. Like...like an actor during curtain call. Because they...well...they kinda love you." Dunk's heart swelled with relief and soft affection to hear how happy and amused she sounded now, a far cry from when she last spoke in his ear. "Love Ser Duncan, that is...if you know what I mean."

"You mean I should...should I bow?"

"No, Dunk," the puff of her quiet laugh tickled his skin, "A wave will do. But with your hand held high, like you really mean it." When he hesitated, Vicki stood down, and showed him exactly what she meant, "Like this." She raised her arm above her head, elbow bent a bit, and slowly waved her hand back and forth. Smiling widely at the mass of people they were facing. Instantly, the volume of their chants increased. When he finally imitated her, the audience began to applaud. A few moments later, Egg joined in. And suddenly, Dunk didn't feel so embarrassed anymore

Following her lead, both Dunk and Egg turned to face the nobility sitting on the far side, then circled back to the smallfolk. It was several minutes until the cheering had settled down, but reading the crowd, she told them, "Always leave 'em wanting more, boys. And exit stage left." The three of them continued to wave as they headed towards the challengers enclosure, with Vicki pausing to wave both hands all on her own, before dashing to catch up with Dunk.

Only when they were out of the sight of tourney spectators, did Dunk feel comfortable celebrating his survival. Vicki had bent down to embrace Egg, and they both looked so happy, so joyful--exactly how he felt--and without second-guessing himself or the impulse that he'd been steadily denying for days (had it only been days, he would ask himself later, 'cuz it damn well felt like I'd been longing for this for half a lifetime instead) he waited for her to stand up and took her by the waist. Her slim, pretty waist, which his fingers had been itching so to lay ahold of--and lifted her high. She let out a surprised but not unhappy cry, her hands resting on his, and as he slowly turned in a circle again and again, she was laughing wholeheartedly, joined moments later by Egg, and then by his own laughter, while his eyes never left her face. And what a perfect chorus they made! Dunk could've sworn he'd never heard one more dear.

"Put me down, Dunk, please", Vicki repeated several times while laughing. "You're making me dizzy...Dunk...honey, please..." and that she'd called him so was not lost on him. Slowly, he let her slide down, while holding her close, until his face was above hers. And still she laughed, her face upturned to his, her lashes wet with happy tears for his safety. Be mine, he was thinking, be mine...be my girl, right here and right now. With your bright eyes and your pretty lips and your gentle touch. Vicki, please be mine.

She must've seen it on his face, for she laid her hands upon his chest and grasped his surcoat as though she would never let go. Her lips were slightly parted as he lowered his face to hers, and his final thoughts before he took that plunge, were thank god and at last...and once their lips met, that never had he tasted a kiss so soft and so sweet as this one that seemed he'd waited half a lifetime for.

Dunk felt a confidence he'd never known before, sure of Vicki's lips fully welcoming his. With other girls he'd always questioned his timing, or if he should've had a breath mint, or if he was just bloody doing it properly, whatever that meant. Softly, but not with his usual caution, he began. A simple brush of his lips on hers, while cupping her face in one hand, the other on the center of her back. She'd risen up on her toes to better reach his mouth, and her lips remained slightly parted, enough for him to nestle his lower lip between hers.

Despite her ever-ready bravado about so many things, Dunk could feel her trembling, and that was a pleasant first for him. No girl had gone so soft for him before, making him need everything with her, and all at once. Yet it felt so good to taste her at last--her humor and kindness and quiet strength, become her sweet, singular flavor--that he wanted to take his time. As no other girl had ever made him crave before.

Vicki gave a whisp of a moan when he touched  the tip of his tongue along the inside of her upper lip, encouraging him to taste her more fully. Dunk nudged her lips to part further and she pressed her body tight to his while he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He could've cursed the thick surcoat and protective mail he still wore, for keeping him from fully feeling her curves, but his imagination was vividly alive and would have to suffice. For now.

But their kiss. Her tongue gave way easily, silky as she followed where he led, and Dunk could feel her pleased hum when he lightly stroked along it's surface. He only withdrew to graze her lower lip and she sighed against his mouth. Opening his eyes, Dunk found hers remained closed, her lips reddened and tender looking. By christ, she was lovely, made even more so by what he'd finally dared. He brushed his nose against hers, then let his mouth hover a breath away from hers. Vicki gave a quiet little whimper, opening her eyes. "You shouldn't tease me so, Duncan. It's...it's not...chivalrous...to deny a lady her due..."

"If I kiss you again, I don't think I'll be able to stop at just that," he murmured, "And I'm pretty sure they'd put us both in...what do you call them? The stocks...for what I'm even thinking..."

"Now you are teasing me," she pouted, placing a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, "Which really isn't fair."

Dunk exhaled slowly, exhilarated as much from having finally shown Vicki how she made him feel--and her response back--as from surviving the joust that wasn't. The day was young and life was good and this lovely, amazing girl wanted more of him, beyond any hope he might've had. "I mean every word, V. And when our timing is better, I swear that I'll show you."

Egg had gotten an eyeful when Duncan had finally kissed her. Vicki had been imagining what it might be like since yesterday afternoon, when she realized just how deep her feelings for him were beginning to run--while at the same time, chastising herself for even thinking such thoughts while this man, this gentle, kind-hearted, and yes, chivalrous man, was facing a danger that couldn't be avoided. But now they were free of that burden, and thus free to indulge in their mutual attraction--though they still had a mountain to overcome. The thing was, they needed to exercise some discretion, at the very least for the sake of the kid.

For his part, Egg seemed unfazed by what he had witnessed, and maybe he hadn't been too surprised after all. He was truly the smartest kid she'd ever met, and incredibly chill for a child his age. Vicki decided the less said, the better. If he had questions, she'd answer them frankly--within the confines of the masquerade that she and Duncan had established in order to function in this world. Otherwise, she had some work to do this afternoon, if they were to have supper tonight.

"If you insist on sticking around here to earn enough coin for our supper, I'll be staying too," Duncan had stated flatly, striving to appear as authoritative and protective as possible. The latter she liked very much; it came naturally to him and Vicki was flattered that he cared enough to be a true knight of sorts regarding her safety. But she had been looking after herself for years now, as she'd explained to him the evening they had met, and she wanted to prove to herself that this still held true.

"No, Duncan, you need to go back to camp and rest a while. Please." They were holding hands, walking the grounds in search of a suitable spot for her to set up her stool and start to play. "You barely slept last night..."

"I'm fine, V," he asserted, "And some of these blokes look...rough. Seedy. Untrustworthy."

"I can handle them, Duncan. I've been known to break a nose from time to time..."

"Yeah, I know," he conceded, "But you shouldn't have to. Ever again." He left unsaid what she just knew he was thinking:  now that you have me.

God, how he made her heart flutter! This big, beautiful man, gentle of temperment but with the heart of a lion. Wanting to look after her this way, as if just facing the most frightening challenge of his life hadn't happened within the hour. Vicki wondered if he'd noticed how she couldn't stop smiling. If he had, he was too humble to realize it was all because of him. She was completely smitten. 

She tugged him to step to the side, out of the way of the milling crowd. "Duncan, I swear you don't need to worry..." His eyes, a gorgeous sort of dusty, steel blue in the midday sunlight, distracted her a moment from what she meant to say. "Um...it's broad daylight and there's plenty of people around. If I need some kind of help--which I won't," she stressed, "I just need to raise my voice--and with my vocal training I can project louder than you'd ever guess--and any bloke bothering me is gonna scuttle off as fast as he can..."

"But...I don't...," Dunk sputtered.

Vicki wagged her finger, though she couldn't keep the grin from her face. "Dunk...honey...I promise to stay planted right where you leave me. No wandering, I'm just here to play and maybe sing a little." He opened his mouth, then closed it when she shook her head. "You go back to camp, get a few hours rest, and I'll wait exactly where you leave me until you come back to escort me home. Well before the sun sets."

He scrunched his face--which was absolutely adorable in her eyes--passed his hand across his forehead and eyes, and huffed softly, "You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?"

"The most stubborn you've ever met, D," she teased, reading her victory in the softness of his smile lines. "So, c'mon and help me find the perfect spot, because I'm determined that we won't be dining on hard salt beef or even salt fish this evening." 

Despite her assertions that she would be fine, Dunk still felt a bit uneasy leaving Vicki alone on the tourney grounds. He left, but returned not ten minutes later (she'd been playing Dancing Queen) to leave her a freshly filled water skin, one of the two they had packed in Chestnut's saddlebags for their trip down to the joust. He waited, happy to listen to her playing, until a couple of folks stepped up to leave coins in her bowl, and took that as his chance to approach her.

The sun was at his back, so she shaded her eyes as she looked up at him, softly exclaiming, "Why, Duncan? Why?"

"Because even the most stubborn girls get thirsty, and I figured you'd get especially so once you sang a song or two." He handed her the stoppered skin.

She accepted it with a bashful smile, and immediately took a long sip. "You're going to spoil me rotten, Ser...aren't you?"

"Well, that's maybe not at the top of my list, but it will have to do for now." The blush that colored her cheeks in reply let him know she understood exactly what he meant.

Back at camp, while Egg went about unpacking Chestnut, stowing Dunk's mail and armored pieces, and grooming the horses, Dunk finally felt the full weight of his exhaustion. "Virgilia was right, Egg. I do need to sleep a while." He laid his blanket in the shade of the leafy oak tree where he and Vicki had spent so much of the previous night just talking. "Can't keep my eyes open a minute more. Just don't let me sleep more than a few hours, lad. I don't want to leave her too long down there on her own."

Within minutes of laying his head on the straw-stuffed sack that served as his pillow, Dunk fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, only waking up to Egg shaking him vigorously. He was disoriented a moment, temporarily forgetting he wasn't waking up in his own world. But the sight of Egg reminded him. He felt no sense of time, but the shadows cast by the leaves had moved enough for him to know he'd been out for a few hours. His next thought was for Vicki, wondering how she was doing down on the faire grounds. Dunk decided to wash up quickly, and then save some time by riding down to get her.

"Egg, do we have any kind of soap? I need to clean up."

"A small bit leftover of a bar we bought two tourneys ago, Ser. You'll be wanting it now?"

"Yes, please." Because a man shouldn't even try to romance a girl if he reeks of sweat and horse. "And then saddle up Chestnut for me. I'll be riding down to fetch Ms. Virgilia."

As promised, Vicki had remained exactly where he'd left her. She was playing a lively rendition of I'm Still Standing, and when she saw him waiting at the edge of the score or so people gathered around her to listen, she beamed him a bright smile and finished the tune with a improvised flourish. She rose and took a little bow, cue enough to those watching her perform that the show was done. By twos and threes, they moved along their way.

"Well, you're looking better rested, at least." She bent to retrieve her bowl. Dunk noted it contained only four copper pennies.

"Wait...you played for hours and that's all these people managed..."

Vicki patted his arm and then picked up her burlap sack and gave it a couple of shakes. The jangle of coin against coin and the way it sagged at the bottom told just the opposite. "Check it out," she grinned, handing him the bag, "We can eat for days on this."

Dunk gave a low whistle. "This is brilliant! I guess I underestimated you, V."

"As much as I'd like to take all the credit, this wasn't all me." She had him pull open the drawstring so that she could scoop out a handful of her stash, exchanging it for her lute. "Our little performance earlier, it, uh...endeared you to the crowd. And I guess me, by extension..."

"What? How so?" He found her first assertion hard to swallow; the second, not at all surprising. 'Course, I'm likely not the most impartial judge where you're concerned, Vicki. Before she could pick it up, Dunk took her little stool to carry.

"See. Spoiling me." She gave a long sigh and told him pertly, "Well...suit yourself then." He held out his other hand to take her sack, and then slung it across his shoulder. 

Dunk offered her his arm next, and she tucked her own around it as they started to stroll. "But you were saying?"

"Oh, yeah...ehm...yes. I was recognized from this morning at the tilt thing, and that got me more than a few friendly comments from folks who tipped me. Mostly about you, Dunk...well, Ser Duncan. That it was..." She slipped into an accent very like a Cockney dialect back home, "...'what yer knight done was a grand deed' and 'the world could do with more like 'im'." Vicki gave his arm a little squeeze. "So you've got quite the sterling reputation now. And I, of course, absolutely agree."

"And now you're spoiling me, V," Dunk muttered, though it did make him straighten out his shoulders anyway. Looking around, he caught people here and there watching him. Watching them. He knew that Vicki was accustomed to that kind of behavior from the career she had chosen, but it was novel to him. But he found that simply nodding or smiling at them--acknowledging the kind regard and curiosity sent his way, even as Vicki had advised him earlier--made him feel more comfortable, and as though he actually belonged here.

They walked the full circuit of the market and the craftsmans stalls, then stopped for some ale and to discuss what might come next for them. Any idea of how they might get home still eluded them, but somehow it didn't feel anywhere near as urgent as it had when they first met. At least to Dunk. He had survived the worst and now this time seemed like a little, much-deserved holiday--to be spent alongside the sweetest girl he'd ever known. So why would he want to escape just yet, when things could just be getting good?

At last they decided to get what they needed to have a hearty meal back at camp with Egg. And to focus with fuller clarity on the dilemma of how to get home come tomorrow. Tonight could simply be a celebration, which all three of them deserved.

Vicki suggested they divide and conquer to get everything they wanted for a camp-cooked feast. A huge shank of smoked venison, carrots and mushrooms with something similar to wild rice, a generous cluster of grapes, peaches picked that very day, with fresh fried bread, a full wineskin for the adults and cider for Egg. 

The fry woman remembered him at once. "I saw you ride today, though didn't know 'twas you 'til you removed your helm, Ser. 'Twas a noble thing you did for that other knight."

Dunk's tongue felt too thick to reply. How could such a small act of kindness be considered noble? "It just seemed the fairest thing to do," he told her quietly.

"Mayhap, good Ser," she said, beginning to fill his order, "Though most knights I've seen are not so prone to such a sense of justice..."

He only nodded, unsure of what to say. The woman continued on through his silence. "And what of your lady fair, this evenfall? I saw her at your side this morning."

"Um...aye," he managed, a little tickled that he remembered to use the local speech.

"And where is she right now?" He pointed to the cider stand, two booths down. The woman nodded. "That one's a sweet songbird, ain't she?"

That was an easy one to answer, and wholeheartedly too. "Aye," Dunk grinned, "The sweetest of them all." Especially when she sings just for me.

She laughed at that, wrapping the fresh, hot bread in a new linen cloth. "And you tried to tell me the other night that she weren't yours, when it's clear to anyone with eyes that you're as soft on her as any man might be when love knocks on his door." Dunk face was thoroughly flushed as he handed her coins in payment and took the bundle of bread she passed to him. "Don't wait too long to tell her, lad. A bird like that might fly the coop if she doesn't know how much you want her."

He nodded again, then quietly thanked her for both the bread and the good advice. Food for thought, he mused as he walked away. Sure, he'd fallen fast and fallen deep for Vicki, as never before in his life--but that a stranger could read that about him was a huge surprise. That she seemed the perfect girl for him was extraordinary, and Dunk couldn't help remembering the words of his wish. For a little span of time when I'd be cool enough that a nice girl might see me and like me, for exactly who I am. Those green-tailed wishing stars might well have given him the opportunity to shine, if going by the events of the day. Couldn't it be that Vicki had been part of that wish fulfillment as well? And if both were true, would he...would they...need fresh wishing stars to find their way back home?

They rode Chestnut back together, Vicki trusting Dunk in his limited experience to get them there safely. She'd had to tuck her skirts up to climb up behind him, but once she settled against his back with her arms confidently around him, it was the finest feeling in the world.

They ate their fill around the campfire, relaxed and happy to have reached the end of the day no worse for wear. With darkness falling around them, Dunk was wishing that Egg was worn out enough to bed down soon. The strains of music reaching them from the tourney grounds turned slower at times and he was thinking how satisfying it would be to dance, or at least sway, with Vicki in his arms beneath the star-studded sky. Then snog her soundly.

Unfortunately, within the hour, Nature herself threw a wrench in his hopes.

When the sky opened up, they had been lingering by the light of the fire, snacking on the peaches--the plumpest, juiceiest he'd ever tasted--and were drenched in mere minutes. They'd had little warning but the swift drop in the air temperature and a sudden change in the wind direction, with ever rising gusts that whipped the leaves into a frenzied dance. They had immediately begun collecting all the loose items about the camp, securing whatever they could in saddlebags and sacks to load on the horses. Though the first thunderclaps were startling, they were distant enough not to be too alarming, but all too soon spikes of lightning lit up the sky.

The lightning heralded an increasing downpour, with raindrops cold enough to sting bare skin. "Shouldn't we shelter beneath this oak tree," Vicki had shouted, her loose hair plastered to her skin, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

Dunk remembered enough from the rare chances he'd had to attend summer camp. "We need to get away from the tallest trees before the lightning arrives. They're just like lightning rods in a storm like this."

Together Dunk and Egg had bridled the horses and thrown on their saddles, loading them up with what they'd already packed . Vicki continued to grab things that they'd missed to prevent the wind from stealing them away.

"Take the horses where the trees are densest," Dunk instructed Egg. "Short, dense trees are best and keep away from taller, isolated trees." The boy ran on ahead with the horses and just about everything they owned. Dunk soon lost sight of him in the driving rain. He had grabbed Vicki's burlap sack and slung it across one shoulder, shouting to make himself heard above the crash of thunder and the heavy fall of the rain on the leaves overhead. "Where are you, V? We need to get out of here now." She was nowhere in sight. 

"Duncan, I can't...I'm stuck..." she hollered, the distress clear in her voice, "...the mud, it's like wet cement..."

He turned a full circle, seeking some sight of her in the gloom, and he spotted her at the edge of the path that led down to the tourney grounds. Dunk sped to reach her, intending to take her hand and drag her along, but her mud-sodden skirts now weighed her down. He bent close so she could hear him above the noise. "Arms around my neck. Now, V. Now!" Vicki did as he bid, tucking her head against his chest. She was shivering hard, from fright perhaps, and certainly from the cold, unrelenting rain. "I've got you, V. Don't you fret..." He tugged hard against the mud's grip on her but she remained mired a couple inches above her ankles. Just short of panicing, she cried out his name, and he put every ounce of strength left to him into pulling her out. She came free with a pop and they nearly toppled back into the growing lake of sludge, but Dunk managed to keep on his feet.

He took off--still carrying her--into the forest in the last direction that Egg had gone. In just a few minutes, the threat of a lightning strike seemed less dire. Dunk set Vicki down several feet from the base of a short, stout elm tree. The thick thatch of leaves was an imperfect shelter from the rain, but already better from where they'd been caught by the storm. The ground was damp, but not saturated. Vicki's breath was coming in jagged hitches as she struggled not to cry. Dunk knelt in front of her, cupping her face in his hands, "Are you alright?"

Nodding, she clapped her trembling hands on his. "I'm fine, Dunk. Go check on Egg. I'll be...I'll be okay."

"Stay right here, Vicki," he told her, taking to his feet, "I'll be back before you know it."

Egg had loosely tied the horses to a low shrub, only out of concern that if spooked by the storm, they might run off. Dunk gave the boy quick instructions, thanking him for staying so level-headed and jumping into action the moment his help had been essential.

He returned to find Vicki hunched over with her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked up at him, sniffling and miserable sounding, "My shoes got stuck in the mud, Dunk. My feet are soooo cold..."

"Oooohhhh, I'm sure they are, love. But we'll get you fixed up as quick as we can." Her whole body was wracked with chills. "Egg's looking for wood dry enough to burn right now, but in the meantime you'll have to settle for this..." Dunk knelt down again, and this time he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms snuggly around her. Hoping it would be enough to start to warm her until he and Egg got a fire built.

Vicki moaned softly, "It's the wet, Dunk. It feels like it's in my bones..."

I know, baby girl. I know. He bit his tongue lest he say it out loud. He brushed his lips on her temple, just needing to give her some quiet comfort. And where is Egg with the damned wood?

What else could I do for her? Dunk thought back to the Health and First Aid classes he had taken in secondary school. He hadn't always been the best student overall, but just as he'd excelled in PE (once he'd been able to properly manage his gangly limbs), he'd gotten high marks in those as well. It had been part of the reason he'd even considered becoming a PE teacher. What had they taught about persistent chills? Hypothermia? He should be able to warm her with his body heat, for he was practically a furnace himself. 

Egg finally arrived with an armload of wood, his flint and steel, and some birch bark--dry tinder he had kept stowed at the bottom of one of Chestnut's leather saddlebags. He set to work building a fire several feet away from the tree, but close enough for the branches to protect it from most of the rain

Once he got a spark to catch, Dunk called to him. "Egg, keep on eye on Virgilia for me, will you? I need to see if we have any dry clothing in our saddle bags."

Dunk returned with their hay-stuffed pillows, a dry though threadbare blanket, his own spare, clean shirt, and his cloak. "She's been whimpering, Ser," Egg told him. "Like a nursing pup who can't find it's mother."

"Give me a hand here, Egg." Dunk had the boy spread the hay on the ground at the base of the elm and then lay the blanket atop it. That should be dry enough for Vicki to lay on. Now comes the delicate part, he thought, bracing himself to do what needed done.

He rubbed his hands together vigorously, creating heat by friction, then gently placed them on either side of her neck. She gasped hard and her eyes fluttered open. "Duncan..." She murmured, struggling to keep her eyes from shutting again.

"Yes, Vicki, I'm here." Her head had begun to droop, so he gently raised her chin to get her to look at him. "We need to get you out of these wet clothes, V, and into something dry. Are you with me?"

She nodded, teeth chattering, and though clearly dazed, managed a weak smile. "Yes, Duncan." She reached for him, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. "Silly lad," she sighed, "Can't you tell that I'd follow you anywhere?" 

Dunk felt ready to melt. Her touch, the unbidden honesty of her confession, the sweetness of her smile that was meant only for him. None of it expected, but all things he'd been craving for uncounted years. And coming from her, in less than three full days, it felt like a small miracle. "If I help you, do you think you can you stand?"

"Yes, Ser," she giggled in her chill-altered state and snapped him a salute, before adding a sad realization, "But they don't do that here, do they Duncan? That's only at home...and...oh, Dunk, I wanna go home now..."

"I know, love. So do I." Slowly he stood up, and pulled her to her feet. "But there's still some things we have to do yet, before we can get there. Lean on me, alright?"

"Gladly," she told him, shivering even more fiercely as she let him bear a good part of her weight.

He only needed to get her behind the tree, for privacy sake, and now that he had Vicki walking, she seemed better able to stay upright herself. Dunk tossed his spare tunic on a bush nearest the ancient elm. "That's for you when you're ready, V. You can just drop your dress and slip on the ground. I'll get them when you're through."

For a moment, a saucy expression teased at her face, but then she twirled her finger to tell him to turn his back. "I'm all set, Duncan," she told him when done.

And such a sight she was to him. Though his tunic was huge on her, more like a dress and falling nearly to her knees, the blue suited her dark hair and fair skin well. Stop gawking, he chided himself, as she hugged herself to ward off the chill that had her hard in its grasp. Without a second thought, Dunk scooped her up to carry her to the patch of hay at the base of the tree.

"I can walk, you know." Her voice was muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder. And still she shivered in his arms.

"I know." I know, baby girl. "But I'm here, so why should you have to?" Dunk set her down, then wrapped his cloak around her, taking care to see that her feet were covered. "Just one more thing, V, and I'll have you toasty warm before you know it."

Vicki nodded and watched as he gathered her things, shook off the mud as best he could and then draped them over a couple of tree branches within his reach. Dunk stripped off his own wet shirt and hung it up as well.

She had pulled the cloak up to cover the lower half of her face, and as he dropped to the ground next to her Vicki drew a deep breath. She hummed as she exhaled, "Mmmmm...this smells like you, Dunk. Can I keep it?"

"Whatever you want, V." Despite the seriousness of the situation, he nearly laughed at how adorable she looked. Certaintly not quite back to her usual herself, the combination of adrenaline and her body coping with the cold had left her no filter on her thoughts. "Whatever you need..." I'm your man.

Dunk scooted closer. "Alright, now...c'mere..." He unwrapped his cloak from around her, leaving it to cover her shoulders and back, then drew Vicki against his chest..

"What...what are you doing," she sniffled.

"It's okay, honey. I'm just warming you up like I promised..."

"Oh. Okay then." She was silent a few moments, then asked softly, "But, ehm...what happened to your shirt, Dunk?"

"You're wearing it, love," he chuckled.

"Oh. Oooohhhh...that's...that's nice," she sighed. "Did it stop raining?"

Though the crash of thunder was less frequent and coming from a greater distance, Dunk could still make out the splatter of rain drops on the leafy canopy above them. "Not yet, but we're some place safe now."

"This place is much better..." Her breath hitched, "I was so...so cold..." For a moment she sounded on the verge of tears again, but after a couple of deep breaths, she didn't give in. "But you're warm, Dunk. And I really needed this...".

"I know." He finally gave in and said what he'd wanted to call her for hours. "I know, baby girl." He moved his head enough to kiss her forehead.

He found himself gently rocking her. "I was afraid too, V," he murmured, "Afraid I could lose you..."

"I was so cold and...so awfully afraid. I couldn't move and it was like I was drowning. I couldn't do a thing to help myself." Dunk knew she was now crying a little from the wet of her precious tears on his skin. He simply tightened his embrace. "But you were right there. Just like in my dream..."

She shook her head a mite. "Not so long as you're holding me, Duncan...holding me warmly...so very warmly..." How drowsy she sounded, as his warmth gradually stole over her.

"Always am, V. Always will."

She laid her still chilly hand on his chest. "You're so solid, too. I...I like that about you, Dunk. Solid...dependable...kind. You're always so kind...I never met a man so kind...and brave, too..." Vicki seemed to have lapsed into a stream of cconsciousness.

Her breathing had growner slower, deeper, falling into rhythm with his own. He realized she was half asleep already--and perhaps he could say a thing or two without feeling tongue-tied or awkward. "You're soft, Vicki. Not just to touch...and to hold...and, uh...kiss..." Tell her. Tell her how you feel! "You're soft-hearted...and so patient with me. And so funny when I need it the most...and I don't think I could ever get enough of that...enough of...of you."

Vicki had gone completely silent, so that Dunk wondered if what he'd said had been too much. But then she was nuzzling his skin, and it felt like a low, electric hum on his flesh, and he had to admit to himself, at least, how much such a small thing  proved how badly he wanted her. Not just to be with, but to be his. Even in this most dire and innocent of circumstances, he needed her to be his.

"Alright then," she whispered, "That settles it, doesn't it, dear? But I think I need to sleep now, Duncan. Just please...keep holding me...don't let me go..."

"You just try and make me, baby girl. I'll never let go..."

"Good..." she yawned against him, her voice too sleepy to deny, "...'cuz I wanna be with you, Duncan Dunne. In any way...any way that you'll have me..."