#g writes

The bath was an old copper tub that would be small, even for you, let alone your giant husband, and the bed was not much better. After a meal of pork and potatoes, Egg returned to the stables to keep watch over the horses.

“I’ll join him, someone has to keep an eye on the little prince.” Duncan’s chair scraped back as he tried to take his leave. Rowan looked aghast at the notion, she elbowed Raymun harshly in the ribs and he grimaced, clearly he had not left the field unscathed after the trial.

“Are you really going to abandon your lady wife, Duncan?” he asked, looking between Dunk and yourself with wide eyes. The pair of you were mortified, but Duncan quickly returned to the table, sitting back down and taking a large gulp of ale. You patted his thigh, in full understanding of his inner turmoil. With Egg around, you had barely had a quiet moment between you, and any that you shared were often stilted and awkward unless you were bordering on unconsciousness. Once you had emptied your cups, Rowan sent you a sly wink and leapt from her seat, grabbing her husband’s hand with an airy laugh and practically dragging him up the stairs, leaving the two of you in a heavy silence.

“Shall we-”

“Let’s-”

Like a pair of bumbling fools, you spoke over one another. Duncan stood and held out his arm, motioning for you to take the lead, mopping the faint sheen of sweat from his brow with the other hand. Finding yourself set ablaze by a hearty blush, you gathered your recently tattered skirts and started up the stairs that would take you to your room. The closing of the door felt significant, there was no turning back now, and the prospect of sharing such a small bed caused your stomach to twist uncomfortably.  In the first few days after the wedding, you had felt much more confident in showing your affections to your new husband, but with each passing day of inaction, you began to mirror his disquiet. A heavy desire burned in your gut for the man, how could it not when he was so honourable and handsome; but trepidation now smothered that fire.

“Do you mind if I go first, Ser?”

Duncan turned to you with wide eyes, “first?”

You pointed to the bath, chewing at your lower lip while you waited for his response.

“Oh, of course, my lady.”

You gave a terse nod and turned away. The bath had been filled whilst you dined and a light steam lingered throughout the small room; it made your hair stick to the nape of your neck. Trying to ignore the knight’s presence behind you, you fiddled with the laces of your dress, stepping out of it gingerly and standing almost bare in your underclothes. As you slipped the chemise from your shoulders you heard a harsh intake of breath from across the room, but you were feeling far too timid to turn around and face him. The warm water enveloped your calf as you stepped into the tub and as you lowered yourself into it, you let out a deep sigh. This was exactly what you needed after a week on the road, bathing only in cold streams and silty pools. Dunk cleared his throat behind you and you risked a glance over your shoulder. He was stood facing the wall, with a straight back and hands fisted at his sides. You realised that he likely needed the relaxing properties of a warm bath more than you did, what with you having been living the life of a noblewoman not too long ago, compared to his years in the hedge. You bathed quickly to ensure the water remained warm for him.

“Ser?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“May you please pass me a towel?”

“Of…of course, my lady.” The knights voice had risen slightly, and a large hand promptly appeared over your shoulder, the rest of him twisted in the opposite direction.

You quickly took the linen from him and rose from the bath, wrapping yourself tightly in the fabric. You gathered your abandoned clothes and moved towards the bed, trying to ignore the sounds of cloth on skin as your husband undressed. Your mind flashed back to that morning by the water and the sun radiating off of Duncan’s shoulders. You somehow managed to maintain an unyielding glare at the floorboards beneath your bare feet until a sigh, deep enough to rival your own, broke the trance and your traitorous eyes moved to the bath of their own accord. The tub was indeed too small and Duncan was bent almost in half as he cupped the water in his hands and scrubbed at his hair with lye soap. From where you sat, you could see the litany of yellowed bruises across the top half of his torso and you hoped that the wound you knew he had above his hip was healing quickly, he was still favouring his right side and it worried you. Whilst Duncan bathed, you sat on the firm mattress and combed your fingers through your damp hair, utterly lost in thought. Your world had narrowed greatly from the finery and expectation of being a Targaryen, to living on the road as the wife of a hedge knight, and yet you missed nothing about your old life but the bolstering presence of your father and brother. Valarr had not spoken much when you last saw him at your father’s funeral and you could not begrudge him the man he had become in his grief. You prayed that, with time, he would know happiness again.

The sloshing of water disturbed your thoughts and you swept your chemise over your head so you could hand the towel to your husband. Duncan took it gratefully, his eyes cast down.

“Thank you.”

Once you were both appropriately dressed for sleep, each of you took a side of the bed. Duncan was closest to the door, his longsword resting against the wall, as close to him as it could get without being under your pillows. You slipped under the scratchy woollen bedcovers as Duncan blew out the last remaining candle and plunged the room into darkness. There was no moon tonight and you were silently grateful that your husband could not see your anxious expression as he joined you under the covers. You had been anticipating this moment since Raymun accosted your ragtag trio by the river. There was no need to drift closer for warmth this time; his bicep was firm against your own and your hip met the softness of his side in the small space you now shared. You realised that his feet must be hanging well over the end of the bed and a giggle burst from you at the thought. You sensed Duncan turn his head to look for you in the darkness, attempting to gauge the cause of your outburst.

“Sorry,” you chortled, “you are just simply far too large for this bed.”

The covers shifted as he shuffled up the bed, turning his body to face yours in the darkness. You felt his knees bump you as he lifted his feet onto the bed.

“There truly is not much room, perhaps the stables would suit better.” Dunk muttered into his pillow.

“Nonsense.” You were emboldened by the darkness and twisted yourself to match Duncan, slotting perfectly against him, your back to his chest. Groping around behind you, you managed to locate his thick forearm and you hauled it over your waist. Patting his large hand gently where it rested over your stomach, you tucked your own hands under your chin and snuggled under the covers, sighing contentedly with the furnace that was your husband at your back. A breath of warm air ruffled your hair as Duncan relaxed into the new position and you could almost swear that you felt the soft press of lips against your crown. You fell asleep with a dreamy smile pulling at your cheeks.

As did Duncan.

* * *

You awoke to the feeling of being trapped and a brief panic rose in your chest before you realised it was your husband, resting half over you with his head on your chest and your fingers buried in his hair.

“I’m coming in!” The sound of your young cousin at the door had you bolting upright and poor Duncan went sprawling from the small mattress and onto the floor. His groggy, half-awake frown popped back up on the other side of the bed just as Egg burst into the room carrying a large bucket of water. He set about filling the tub while you and your husband tried to rejoin the land of the living after such a deep, comforting sleep.

“Did you sleep well? The horses were very restless last night, I think they miss the road. Are we leaving soon? I think I saw Ser Raymun downstairs, he looked exhausted.” The squire chatted away, not really listening for an answer to his incessant yapping. You dropped back into the pillows with a groan, noting that dawn was only just breaking through the narrow window. Egg was clearly intent on bathing away a night in the stables and so you closed your eyes and settled back into the comfort of the bed, missing the feeling of a body bracketing your own.

“I’ll see about breakfast.” Duncan sighed, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palms before heading out of the door. You felt his absence instantly, but tried not to dwell on it. 

Once Egg was clean and dressed, and you had freshened up, you both ventured downstairs to see what Duncan had managed to procure for breakfast. You found him sipping ale with a likely still inebriated Raymun Fossoway.

“She’s absolutely feral, I swear it Duncan, the woman’s like a wildcat in heat!”

Raymun’s exclamations, about whom you hoped was his wife, had you tripping on your own feet as you neared the table. Duncan chuckled nervously, hiding his discomfort in his cup.

“Good morning Ser Raymun!” You announced your presence loudly to ensure Raymun knew to hold his tongue in front of the young prince by your side.

“My lady!” Raymun stood to greet you, sloshing the dregs of his cider onto the floor as the barmaid approached with three plates of eggs and bread. “I was just telling Duncan how you must join us. Ser Robin passed through at dawn, he suggested we speak to Lord Tyrell directly about a new seat for the Green Apple Fossoways.”

You saw Duncan glance your way with slightly panicked eyes and a flat mouth, he clearly did not wish to follow his friend to Highgarden. You imagined that the idea of being surrounded by yet more lords and ladies caused him further terror.

“That is a most splendid idea, Ser Raymun!” You beamed at the man momentarily, before letting your face fall in apparent dismay. “Only, we had agreed to meet with my uncle you see. So that he can ensure dear Aegon remains safely in our custody…he worries.” You cast your eyes down, but not before catching Egg slapping Duncan’s arm and tilting his head in question. Dunk, however, had quickly caught on to your tall tale and took on his role with surprising swiftness.

“Aye, you must forgive us, Raymun. I forgot all about our arrangement with Maekar.”

“It is fine, Duncan, do not worry! Rowan will be disappointed to miss out on female companionship, but at least you wont have that shit of a cousin to deal with.” Raymun winked at you before downing the last of his pint. “I best go and fetch my lovely lady wife. Travelling takes so much longer in her condition. I’m sure we will see you all soon! There is to be a small tourney at Maidenpool at the end of the season, perhaps we shall meet there?” Raymun looked expectantly between you both as Duncan stood to embrace his friend, assuring him that they would be reunited soon. He hugged each of you in turn and gave Egg a squeeze on the shoulder before departing.

“We aren’t really going to meet father are we?” Egg’s little face was scrunched up in apprehension, yet the boy still managed to shovel in another mouthful of food.

“Of course not, lad. I’m sure they’re all half way to Summerhall by now.”