The Love Archive @lo-vearchive - Tumblr Blog

A (k)night in Ashford

Pairing: Ser Duncan the Tall x Runaway! Female Reader

Word Count: 9.5K (trust me, its worth it)

Summary: You steal from a knight in Ashford on one starry night. You think you are surely dead, but then one small lie spares your life. You are sure he wants you just as much as you want him. Yet, he holds himself back. Love comes for all, so why do lovers seldom get a happy ending?

Content: Slow burn, Angst, Yearning, Theft, Hunger, Alcohol Consumption, Medieval Sexism, Mentions of Blood and Death, Non-Explicit violence, Explicit Language, Spanking, Brat-taming (slight), Fingering, Tit-sucking, Sex (P in V), Orgasms, Virginity loss, Creampie, Aftercare (attempted, he doesn't know what he's doing), Mention of Reader being tall enough to pick apples. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Author's note: I told you I could not hold back anymore! I am writing this five hours before I need to wake up. I poured my whole soul into this. Integrate dialogue from the show to make this feel authentic as well. Enjoy <3

You knew that life on the road would be difficult when you climbed into a caravan cart heading to Ashford in the dead of night. You just didn’t think you’d find a knight’s blade at your throat.

The journey was hard, but nothing could have prepared you for the hunger you had to endure. You thought the smallfolk would have been too enamoured with the tourney to notice their salt beef missing, but that was increasingly proving to be difficult. By the time you saw the faint light emitting from a campfire deep in the meadows, you were desperate. You pulled the hood of your cloak tightly over your head and crossed the distance with shaky steps. The scene was simple with two plain brown tents dug into a barren patch of land. Under the warm firelight, they glowed gold, and the sight made you tired. You couldn’t remember the last time away from the starry sky.

You shook your head, recalling the purpose of your intrusion. You had to scavenge fast before the folks sleeping there returned. You smelled the meat before you saw it. It sat untouched on a large leaf right next to the trunk of a thick oak tree. You dove at it and swallowed without tasting. You were three bites in when you felt the steel of a sword press against the side of your neck. “Stop stealing, man,” a voice called out.

You kept chewing. You at least deserved to be killed with a full belly. When you had scarfed out the last piece, you gingerly stood up with your hands raised. You turned around to meet the owner of the blade and pushed your hood back. “I’m not a man, sir,” you said.

In front of you stood a tall, broad man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. With the way he was dressed, he appeared not be faring much better than you. Yet, his sheer size left you in awe. You had never seen a man so big.

“Sir?” a voice called out.

You whipped your head to the tent from which a small, bald child emerged. “I heard a noise,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

The man didn’t tear his gaze away from you to look at the boy, and did not move the steel away from your skin either. “I did not mean to steal from you, sir,” you explained, gulping. “I was just so hungry.”

His eyes bore in your own, and in that moment, you recognized that he knew hunger as well. He sighed and lowered his blade. “Why did you come here?” he asked.

You licked your lips, uneasy. “I have nowhere else to go,” you answered, truthfully, “but I shall leave here at once if you choose to spare my life.”

His eyes widened at your words. “Oh, no, no,” he sputtered, holding his free hand out. “You do not have to worry about that. I was simply taken by surprise.”

He let his sword drop to the ground, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In your time on the road, you had learned that the beast you should be careful of the most was man. “Thank you for your mercy,” you said, bowing. “Please excuse me, kind sir.”

You had taken a few steps away from them when he called out. “It is not safe for you to be out here alone, miss.”

“I will be all right,” you replied, hurrying ahead.

A small hand grabbed you at the elbow. You glanced down to see the boy holding your cloak. “Cousin?” he asked.

A look of confusion passed over your face. The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he mouthed the words: follow along.

You blinked quickly. “Oh,” you stuttered. “I didn’t recognize you in the dark. What are you, um, doing here, cousin?”

“I am a squire for my Ser, Duncan the Tall,” he answered. “He will be competing at the tourney this year.”

“Is this your kin, Egg?” the knight inquired, walking to you.

“Oh, yes,” the boy answered, quickly. “This is my cousin who ran away from home a fortnight ago to be a tailor in Kingslanding. She has a real passion for mending clothes, Ser.”

Your eye twitched as you struggled to keep your expression neutral. You had never sewn a day in your life. “Yes,” you deadpanned. “I yearn to sew.”

“And?” the boy urged, elbowing you.

“And . . . ,” you faltered, “preparing salt beef.”

“You have a passion for making salt beef?” Duncan asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Aye,” you said in a small voice.

“I do love salt beef,” the tall man whispered.

The boy held on to you tighter. “So can she stay, Ser?”

“It is not appropriate for a lady to be alone with us, Egg,” the knight scratched his head.

“But she is my sister.”

“Sister,” you echoed, nodding.

He sighed, dropping his head down. “I-I don’t know.”

You were reaching the end of your wits, and the heat emitting from the campfire felt too good to depart from. “Just for tonight,” you pleaded, interlocking your fingers together. “I promise to be gone by the morning, Ser.”

His blue eyes looked up, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his brain. When he spoke next, he said. “One night.”

That night, you dreamt of Ser Duncan the Tall.

You were in a dimly lit room at a small inn, and he sat on the bed with his legs ajar. He patted the thin mattress between his thick thighs, and you found your feet carrying you to him.

You stopped in the space between his limbs and looked down to see your face reflected in his clear eyes. You noticed your dishevelled hair and the swelling on your lips. You looked like a woman who had been kissed thoroughly. His large hand grazed up your skirt, leaving heat in its wake. He stopped right under the curve of your ass to grip you tight. “You’re not supposed to like this, dove.”

You jolted awake when the sky was still dark, covered in sweat. You turned over to see your newly found cousin sleeping soundly next to you like a prince. You wondered why Egg had chosen to help you.

Maybe he saw that you were in need, or maybe he just wanted a friend. Whatever the reason was, you were thankful nonetheless. You peeled the blanket you were sharing off yourself and made your way out of the tent.

You heard Duncan snore as you walked past his tent and deeper into the meadows to look for breakfast. You found berries and apples in the trees, which you picked carefully and placed into the pockets of your cloak.

When you returned to the campsite, Duncan was awake. “Good morning, sir,” you greeted.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and grunted. The way his hair stuck out in places made you smile. Then the memory of last night’s dream returned and brought with it the heat to your cheeks. You cleared your throat. “Apple?”

You tried not to focus on the size of his hands as they took the fruit from your small hands. He took a big bite out of the apple. “You picked these yourself?”

You nodded. “I am tall enough to reach into the trees,” you shrugged. “Some might say too tall.”

“You’re not too tall,” he spoke as he chewed. “You’re just right for—”

He paused mid-sentence, and his face turned the colour of the apple he was eating. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “We are, um, going to the market. Would you like to join?”

“Of course, Ser.”

You discovered that Egg loved the market.

He skipped ahead while you and Duncan followed behind quietly. You did not know what to say to the knight. You just hoped that he wouldn’t ask for you to leave just yet. Duncan broke the silence first. “What are you called, miss?”

You offered him your name as you struggled to match his pace. You did not understand why men had to walk so fast. “So,” he started, scratching his head, “you left home to be a tailor?”

The truth was that you had to leave your home because the summer sickness had claimed all your kin, but you did not wish to hear words of sympathy anymore. People never knew what to say when they learned you were an orphan. “I left because I had no coin, no home, and no way to earn,” you said instead. “I just wish I had planned it out better.”

You both stopped at a shop where Egg was trying to haggle down the price of three goose eggs and a loaf of bread. “I am very thankful for last night,” you continued. “You have done me a great kindness, Ser.”

“The Maiden charges me to protect all women,” he replied. “I simply fulfilled the duty of a knight of the realm.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Right.”

Egg brought Duncan two goose eggs that he carried carefully.

The three of you walked through the market with the sun beginning to set behind the horizon, watching Egg stop at every vendor on the way. “What made you come to Ashford, Ser?”

“For the same reasons as you,” he shared. “My Lord, Ser Arlan of Pennytree, just passed, and I needed to devout myself to a cause. So I decided to enlist in the tourney. By the end of the joust, I hope to have impressed a Lord enough to be taken into his service.”

“That is very honourable,” you remarked. “But what if you get hurt in the joust, Ser?”

He froze, like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “I suppose that would be bad.”

A voice yelled. “Half-man! Half-man!”

You turned around to see a man running in your direction. Duncan let out a sigh. “Do I look like a Half-man to you, Raymun?”

“Aye,” he grinned. “Half man and half giant.”

You bit back a laugh as the man apologized.

“Will you and your cousin ride in the tourney?” Egg inquired, biting into the loaf in his hands.

“He will,” Raymun frowned. “I would if I could, but I am only a squire like you.”

A mist settled over Duncan’s eyes. You wondered what he was thinking about. “You fight well for a squire,” he noted.

The man’s smile grew wider. “And you have the look of a challenger,” he said. “You will do great things, Ser.”

Your eyes trailed over the knight’s body. You found yourself in agreement, but the thought of him getting hurt in the joust made your stomach uneasy. It was a strange thing to feel since you decided, after all, you barely know the man.

“Are you and your lady friend hungry?” the man inquired, eyeing you.

Your stomach rumbled right on cue. “Always,” you replied.

Raymun grinned. “Tell your squire to go put the food away and follow me.”

You didn’t have the heart to turn Egg away, so while Duncan stayed behind with Raymun, you decided to walk with him back to the campsite. That journey would prove to be a long one since the boy seemed not have had his fill of the market for the day. It was like he had never been allowed to roam freely before.

You waited for him at a fruit stall as he tasted every type of grape before settling on one. A man stepped close to you, and you evaded his touch masterfully. Chalking it up as an accident, you called out, “Are you nearly done?”

“Almost!”

You huffed and tapped your foot impatiently on the grass. “Is that boy your son?” the man asked.

You sized him up from the corner of your eyes. “Cousin,” you corrected. “You have a husband, miss?” the man asked.

A shiver ran up your spine. You moved forward to get to Egg, but the man grabbed your wrist harshly. “What the rush?” he demanded. “I just asked you a question.”

You yanked your hand out of his grip, stumbling back. “Do not touch me.”

The man smirked. “I barely did.”

You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but paused when a shadow loomed over you. You looked up to see a scowling night towering behind you. “I believe the woman asked you to leave her be,” Duncan spoke, nostrils flared.

The man squinted up at him. “How big are you, ya’ giant cunt?”

“Big enough to take you on,” he glowered, curtly. “Would you like to test yer’ fate?”

The man watched him for a moment and then spat on the ground before walking away. You turned to face Duncan when the bastard was out of sight. He stood in front of you straight with tension. “Thank you.”

He nodded, absentmindedly, still staring ahead at the direction the man had taken. “I should not have left you alone.”

“It may not look like it,” you smiled, “but these hands can do more than just sew. Believe me.” “I do not doubt that,” Duncan’s shoulders dropped.

“I do,” Egg interjected, closing the distance to you with a bunch of grapes in hand. “I think you should take her to the pavilion immediately, Ser.”

“No,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I am capable of walking you back.”

“Go, cousin,” Egg stated. “I will be fine.”

The irony of a child being able to walk safely after dark over a grown woman was not lost on you. You exhaled, hoping to calm the budding irritation in your chest. “Very well then.”

You knew you were in the presence of the highborn the moment you stepped inside the pavilion.

You took a seat next to Duncan at a table, watching the people crowd every inch of space in the massive tent. They laughed and sang, and some had even brought out their swords for a friendly duel. You had never seen such a sight before; smallfolk never had the luxury to slow down enough to enjoy life. “I have never seen so much food in one place before,” you said.

“Me neither,” Duncan shared. “I grew up in Fleabottom and then on the road with Ser Arlan. I have seen people fight to the death for food, you know?”

You nodded. You had seen people die for less.

Raymun poured some wine into your cup from over your shoulder. “Lyonel Baratheon,” he said, gesturing at the man wearing a stag crown at the front. “The Laughing Storm they call him.”

You took a bitter sip from your cup. “I thought he would be bigger.”

He laughed and walked away. You watched the Lord’s mouth move to speak, but could not hear him over the noise. He slapped his hands on his thigh and tried again, “I HAVE HAD A PROFOUND THOUGHT!” The drums cut off immediately.

“Four thousand years ago,” he began, “our ancestors gathered in that big field outside to blood each other with sticks and to have a little bit of fun. And they say it was this land’s first ever joust. Well, I say . . . uh, what the fuck was I going to say?”

Duncan’s hand reached to pour some more wine, and the sound of the liquid trickle echoed through the pavilion. You elbowed him and whispered, “Stop that.”

He gave you a sheepish look and set the jar down. “Ah,” Lyonel remembered, “Men could not have devised such a joy. So, who was it?”

Duncan reached for his cup and began gulping loudly. You ran a hand over your face to hide from the looks people gave you two. His size already made you two stick out like a sore thumb, and his actions were not helping either.

“Who was it?” the Lord repeated, curling his hands up. “Hm?” No one answered. “Ah, fuck it,” he decided. “A hundred gold coins to the man, beast, or god who sticks me best!”

He threw a heavy purse of coins on the table closest to him, and the crowd broke out in cheer. You swallowed a few more sips and spoke to Duncan with a grin. “You are two of those already, Ser.”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips were stretched wide. You liked it when he smiled; it made his teeth poke out. You wanted to run your tongue over them.

“Now eat your birds so we can dance!” Lyonel cried out, and the drums picked back up again.

Duncan reached for a large turkey leg and tore a chunk off the meat. You eyed the table in front of you, unsure where to begin. You wanted to eat everything at once, but also nothing at all. Duncan saw you sit there, clutching the cup with eyes scanning the food. He held out the meat on the stick to your face. You held his gaze as your teeth made a small bite next to his. The turkey was cold, but it was the best thing you had ever tasted. “Good girl,” he remarked.

You felt his words deep in your belly. He stood up suddenly and took your hand. He pulled you to the dessert table and picked up two pastries. “We shall eat till our belly is full,” he said, smiling down at you.

You nodded and took another bite out of his hands. You finally understood why the highborn hired folks to hand-feed them grapes. It felt good. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Duncan’s hand feeding you that you were enjoying. You tried not to dwell on it too much. This was your last night with the hedge knight and his squire, and you didn’t want to spend it reminiscing.

Something over your head caught Duncan’s attention. You whipped around to see one of Baratheon’s men gesturing him over. He stopped chewing and crossed the space to meet them at the table, and you followed dutifully behind.

As soon as you reached, Lyonel asked, “Have you been punched in the face before?”

Duncan’s jaw fell open. “I beg your pardon?”

“Big men get punched more than little men,” he explained. “Did you know that?”

“No,” Duncan let out an awkward laugh, “but I believe it.”

“Is that why you slouch? So you don’t get punched?”

He blinked with furrowed brows. “I don’t know, Ser. Where I grew up, you do it to go unnoticed.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. It had been the same for you growing up.

Lyonel pulled out his blade, and your heart dropped to your stomach. “The Seven above gave you tallness,” he stated. “So be tall. Or I will name you a heretic and burn you. Or drown you. Or whatever it is they do these days to heretics.”

You had become a professional at begging for mercy over the past few days and quickly intervened. “We meant no disrespect, my Lord. We were just here for . . . supper.”

Lynoel broke into a laugh. “All right. Yeah, well, that actually makes sense. What is your name, man?”

“D-Dunk,” he stuttered. “Ser Duncan the Tall. And this is m-my squire’s cousin.”

You promptly curtsied.

“That’s ridiculous on both counts,” he remarked, leaning forward. “So, do you both like dancing?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” you asked, confused.

The wine was hitting your head in waves.

You and Duncan shared a look as you danced in the circle at the centre of the pavilion. You both knew you had to put on a show for Lyonel, lest he grow bored and decide that an execution would be fitting entertainment for the occasion instead.

You couldn’t help but giggle. You had never seen a man so large appear to be so uncomfortable. You decided to help him out and interlocked your arm around his large bicep to spin around. You grew more dizzy with each round, and your laughing grew louder.

Lyonel was hooting as he danced around the space, throwing his arms up. You let go of Duncan, and he bumped straight into the man. The knight watched with wide-eyes as the Lord stepped closer to him. Before he could react, Lyonel stomped on his foot.

Duncan jerked and let out a groan. When he tried again, Duncan moved out of the way. They danced like that for a moment as you moved into position behind the Lord. You remembered the coin he had promised. Duncan was an honourable man, but you were not above cheating.

A full coin purse would keep his belly full once you were gone, and perhaps he would think back at you fondly. The thought made you sad, and then Lynoel walked close enough for you to shove him forward, and you forgot all about it. As he stumbled, Duncan took the opportunity to bring his own big foot down on the man’s booted one. He let out a shout, and the people cheered.

All colour drained from Duncan’s face as the Lord stood in front of him, trembling. His breath grew heavier as he waited for his reaction. The crowd’s clapping matched the beat of your racing heart. Then the Baratheon craned his head up and let out a hearty laugh.

Relief flooded your senses.

Duncan’s lips stretched into a grin, and he pushed the man away to dance. His large hand found your waist immediately, and he guided you in a circle around the people. He spun you in his arms, and you crashed into his chest with a laugh. The hands trapped between your chests felt the solid planes of his torso.

His eyes shone brightly under the candlelight. His blown pupils had almost drowned out the blue of his irises. He licked his lips, and his breath fanned your face gently when he spoke, “Stay for one more night.”

Sunlight slipped through a gap in the tent folds, waking you.

You groaned and tried to move, but something heavy held you down. You blinked rapidly, adjusting to the brightness and saw you were in Duncan’s tent. His heavy arm was draped over your waist, and he slept soundly beside you.

You had no memory of how you ended up here, but you did not mind. Your clothes were still on, so you guessed you must not have missed out on much last night. You gently removed his arm from you with both hands and slipped out of the tent quietly.

You made your way to a stream nearby to quench your thirst. You bent down at the bank and cupped water in your palms to drink. Once you had fill, you became aware of the layer of sweat and dirt on your body.

You stood up and scanned the area for watching eyes. When you didn’t find any, you quickly stripped out of your clothes and slipped into the river.

You thought about the events that transpired over the last few days. A week ago, you were fighting rats for scraps of food, and last night you had danced with a knight and a lord. You wondered what would tomorrow hold. Would you stay with Duncan and Egg for one more night? Maybe even until the end of the tourney? Maybe Duncan would win a joust, and you could stay even longer to nurse him back? Or maybe you could leave tonight and make your way to Kingslanding as you had originally set out do before you met that tall distraction. You don’t know how long you stayed in the water, but once you felt clean, you brought your head to the surface.

You changed back into your clothes, and they clung to you like a second skin. You leisurely made your way back, enjoying the way the sun felt on your face. Duncan was pacing back and forth at the campsite.

When he saw you approach, he paused. “Where have you been?” he asked with a tight jaw.

“Bathing,” you replied, running a finger through your wet hair. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t wander off without telling me.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your place. You didn’t do anything wrong, but the disapproval in his voice didn’t sit well with you. “Why?”

He turned around and reached into his knapsack. “What are you doing, Ser?”

“Sowing a patch,” he answered curtly.

“Is that not my job?”

He sat down on the grass, ignoring your words. He licked a threat straight in his mouth and passed it through the eye of a needle.

“Ser,” you tried again, “are you upset with me?”

He passed the needle through the fabric in silence.

“Do you wish me to leave?”

He sighed and let his head drop. When he didn’t say anything more, you understood. You knew it was about time anyway. Three days without fearing for your safety or where your next meal came from was more than what most got. All good things must eventually come to an end.

“Okay,” you said.

You moved towards Egg’s tent to retrieve your stuff. “Never mind that,” he called out.

You stopped and turned to look at him. He put the fabric aside and pushed himself off the ground. He walked to you and spoke without looking at you. “I would like for you to stay, miss.”

Warmth spread through your belly. “I want to stay too.”

He shuffled closer until your chest almost grazed yours. He gulped at the sight of your nipples poking through the wet dress. “But as you are a maiden,” he murmured, “so it is not appropriate for you to travel with me alone.”

“I don’t care,” you whispered. “You make me feel safe, and I think life with you would be better than one alone on the road. Besides, I truly do enjoy spending my time with you.”

He craned his head down to let his forehead touch yours. “I-I as well.” “I can be of help to you,” you insisted, gnawing at your lips. “Just tell me what I can do.”

He shut his eyes tightly with furrowed brows. When he opened that a moment later, he croaked, “Maybe . . . maybe you can stay on as Egg’s chaperone? He’s young and needs a firm hand, and then you’ll be in my charge too.”

The idea of a squire with a chaperone made no sense, yet a small smile played on your lips. “Aye.”

“We can never be seen in the market together again,” he continued, “or else people will talk. I will not have them question your virtue.”

You wanted to tell him that you never cared much for what other people thought, but you decided on a simple, “Yes, Ser.”

“Dunk,” he said. “Please call me Dunk.”

Just as you had promised, you stayed ten paces behind them.

Every now and then, Duncan would pause and look back to see if you were following. You always were. It was not difficult; your feet seemed to carry you wherever he went. When he and Egg paused to grab a drink at an ale garden, you found a table nearby. You took small sips of your cider and watched a tug-of-war game play out in front of you.

You saw a familiar man saunter to Dunk and Egg. “Yes, Hedge Knight! You!”

Lyonel pulled the cup out of Duncan’s hand and threw it on the ground. “What is this?” he demanded. “Piss froth? Get up, I need your muscle.”

Duncan shot you a confused look. Lyonel grabbed the back of his thick neck and brought his face to him. “Will you heed my call to war?”

Before the knight could respond, the Lord exclaimed, “Aha! Good. Get up!”

Your jaw dropped in awe as Egg tied a thick rope around Duncan’s torso and took his place at the front. You edged closer to get a better view. The game and Lyonel yelled, “Fucking pull!”

You watched as the men yelled and struggled at either side. Suddenly, the Lord let go of the rope and stated, “I’m thirsty.”

You saw Duncan’s jaw clench as he struggled to dig his feet into the wet mud, and Egg was lifted clear off the ground. What an arse, you thought. You sprang forward to take his place and began pulling at the rope with all your might. Lyonel demanded that everyone haul but made no attempts to join.

You heard Duncan let out a loud groan behind you and heave back the rope. Slowly, your party moved more of the rope to your side and, with a final tug, dragged the other squad down in the mud.

You let the rope slip from your hands and flung your hands up to cheer. Duncan wrapped an arm around you just as Egg rushed towards you. He hoisted you in one arm and Egg in the other and threw you in the air. Lyonel screamed in amusement as you were flung up and down in the air. You were laughing so hard that you thought you’d knock the air out of your lungs.

You met his eyes and held his face in your hand. One second, your lips were pressed against his cheek and the second, you were dropped flat into the mud.

If Duncan he felt sorry for dropping you, he did not voice it.

He did buy some more food and a new set of clothing for you on the way to an inn with the coin you two won last night. “You should fall into mud every day, cousin,” Egg remarked, skipping next to you. “We will get to sleep in a warm room every night then.”

You were fuming with anger. You could not understand the change in Duncan’s behaviour. You thought that you had shared a moment with him back at the moment, yet now Duncan wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You huffed and reached into the basket of food you were carrying for the meat wrapped in paper. You plucked it out and chucked it in a pigpen as you passed by.

No stupid salt beef, you thought, for the stupid hedge knight.

When you checked into the inn, the innkeeper demanded how many rooms your party needed. “Two,” he replied. “One for me and one for my sister and her son.”

You shot him a look that questioned if he had lost his mind. Sister. Sister?

The innkeeper’s eyes bounced from your face to his, noticing the lack of familial resemblance. She rolled her eyes and fetched two keys from under the desk. You snatched the key from her hand and left without looking back.

It took you an hour to scrub the mud off your body.

You had just changed into the fresh set of clothes when your room door was pried open. Duncan stormed inside with heavy footsteps. “What do you want, Dunk?”

“It’s Ser to you.”

Your nostrils flared. “I forgot my place, Ser. What can I do for you?”

“The beef has gone missing,” he glowered.

“Oh, has it?” you mocked. “I wonder if it grew legs and walked away.” He exhaled sharply, and a tremor ran through his torso. “I know it was you.”

“And I would do it again,” you sneered. “A thousand times over.”

He paced around the room, pinching his temples. “Do you have any idea how much coin it costs to buy meat?”

“Oh, I’m sure you still have much more left from that purse we won!” “I would have had a lot more if I did not have to spend it on new clothes,” he raised his voice to match yours.

“There would not have been any need for new clothes if you had not thrown me in the mud!” “I was taken by surprise!” Duncan cried out, throwing his hands up. “You must have taken leave of your senses to k-kiss me like that in front of everyone.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing the air in and out through your nostrils. “You are a petulant child,” he stated. “Your little cousin has more sense than you.”

“And you are a coward,” you retorted. “Your horses are more brave.”

He licked his lips and smiled ruefully. “Raymun’s cousin thinks I ought to spank you for this.”

“Huh,” you scoffed. “You would not dare.”

Duncan ran a hand over his face and watched you for a long moment. You could almost see his brain behind his eyes working to come to a decision. Without saying another word, he made his way to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress with his legs ajar.

You had seen this scene before. Maybe in a dream.

He tapped the space between his legs, demanding you to come to him. “Absolutely not,” you spat.

“I will not force you,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. “You will come willingly.”

“Duncan,” you scowled, “not in a million years—”

“You agreed to be in my charge,” he reminded, “and now this is the punishment I am dealing for your misbehaviour.”

You knew then that you had made a mistake, for he was not the kind to resort to violence. It was one of the things you liked the most about him. Even with all the strength in the world, he chose kindness every time. Yet your pride would not let you apologize.

You ran a hand through your hair. “I am not sorry.” He nodded sharply. “You will be.”

You swallowed and slowly crossed the room to him. You still did not believe he would truly do it. This was a mere display of strength. When you came with range, he yanked you down. You landed right over his knees with an oof.

You held your breath for what felt like an eternity, and then just as you exhaled, his hand came down to your ass over your skirt.

You jolted at the contact as the sound of the slap echoed through the room. Your astonishment overpowered any pain his strike would have caused, and you wondered if it had happened at all.

Then he brought down his hand again, and your cunt clenched around nothing between your thighs. Your hands shot up to grab the faded sheet on the mattress to brace yourself. He was doing it, he was truly doing it.

His voice sounded hoarse when he spoke. “Food costs money, yes?

Spank. “Aye!”

You forced in a shaky breath. “It is bad to taste completely edible food, yes?”

Spank. “Aye!”

You bit down on your tongue hard to keep quiet. “Even when one is angry, yes?”

Spank. “Aye!”

A moan escaped your throat. “You are sorry for what you have done, yes?”

Spank. “Aye!”

You covered your mouth with your free hand. “You will never do it again, yes?”

Spank. “Aye!”

The next time he touched you, it was soft. His large hand ran gently over the buttocks. “D-does it hurt?”

“No,” you croaked.

Duncan had made you feel the complete opposite of pain. “Let me see,” he said, grabbing the hem of your skirt.

You shook your head, still hiding your face in your arm, holding the fabric down.

“Please,” he insisted. “I need to check how badly I have hurt you.”

Feeling utterly spent, you let your hand drop. He pushed your skirt up all the way and exposed your bare ass to the cold air. You were not wearing any underwear for he had forgotten to purchase any.

You felt a shaking hand graze your ass cheek. “Y-you are,” he stuttered, “wet.”

You wished the ground would open and swallow you whole. You made an attempt to pull the fabric down, but his other hand grabbed your wrist. “Let me see,” he whispered.

You let your hand fall back at your side. His fingertips moved to gently massage the globes of your ass. You put down on your lip as the movement exposed your cunt to the cold air. “Ser,” you called out.

He hushed you, swiping a finger over your wetness. “We are past that,” he stated, rubbing your juices over his digits.

“Dunk,” you called again, and shifted.

The move made him slip dangerously close to the opening of your cunt. He breathed out your name. “You were not supposed to be enjoying this,” he said. “This was meant to be a punishment.”

You wanted to tell him that it was for your desires had been laid out in the open.

He pulled his hand away from you and turned you to face him. His pupils were blown wild. “I pushed you away earlier because I did not want it to jeopardize your virtue,” he scoffed, “and now look at me. I’m doing the very same thing. I should have just let you kiss me thoroughly.”

You did not care about your virtue if he was the one compromising it.

Tears brimmed in your eyes. You reached your hand up to cup his face.

“I like it when you touch me,” you tell him earnestly. “I only ever want you to touch me.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “D-Don’t say things like that.”

Your lips stretched into a smile. His eyes fluttered open and met yours. Without tearing them away, he trailed his fingertips up the length of your legs and dipped between them.

You took in a sharp breath when his finger breached your tight hole. It was way thicker than anything else you had experienced before. “I have never done this before,” he admitted. “Any of it. I want to make you feel good now. Tell me what to do to make it better.”

“Play with me,” you gasped. “You'll see what feels good on my face.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words. He licked his lips and drove his finger further. You arched on his lap in response. “Like that?”

It was your turn to stutter. “J-Just like that.”

He brought his digit out and drove it back in a few more times experimentally. You searched for something to hold on and your hands found his shoulder. “Fuck!” you cursed, withering. “Faster!”

He curled his free arm around your torso and crushed you into his chest. His pace quickened, and your head tipped back to let out a loud moan. He curled his finger inside your wet cunt, and your toes went numb. Your grip around him tightened. “That’s the spot! Right there!”

He pressed his mouth in the crook of your neck and hit the same spot again and again and again. Just one of his fingers was enough to make you see stars.

You walked hand in hand with Duncan later that night under the starry sky.

He had a stupid smile on his face that reflected your own. A fortnight ago, you were shivering in the back of a caravan heading to Ashford; today, you were being kept warm by a man who generated heat. You had never felt something like this before. Life was good, and you guessed that if every day was like today, then you could live happily for a very long time.

“Ser Duncan! Ser Dunacn!” you heard Egg scream as he rushed to him. “He’s hurting them!”

Duncan let go of your hand and took off before you could ask Egg what he meant. You tried to keep up with them, but the knight was just too fast.

By the time you entered the puppeteer's tent, four knights belonging to the Kingsguard had already wrestled him to the ground. Above him stood the pale, bloodied Targaryen prince you had seen before at the tourney. You recalled him to be cruel and dishonourable.

Egg pushed past you and skidded to a stop. “Don’t hurt him!”

“You stupid boy!” Duncan cried out, thrashing in the guard’s grip. “Hold your tongue, or they’ll hurt you.”

“No, they won’t,” he replied, swiftly. “If they do, they will have to answer to my father. Let go of him. Do as I say. Now!”

They followed his command immediately. The prince frowned at the squire. “You impudent little rat,” he frowned. “What has happened to your hair?”

“I cut it off, brother. I didn’t want to look like you.”

Time seemed to slow down. Duncan stared at Egg with his jaw slack.

The ruse was up. For both of you. You called out his name as the guards pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the tent. When your eyes met, all you saw was the pain of your betrayal glistening in his.

You waited with Raymun in the marketplace until a guard came to fetch you.

Your body was numb, but your heart hurt anyway. I was going to tell him, you say to yourself, I promise I was going to tell him! You had made a mistake. You had thought you had all the time in the world.

The guard’s horse trotted to a spot, and you barely heard the man’s voice when he spoke. “Prince Aegon wants a word with you.”

Raymun helped hoist you on the horse. “Come to the Fossoway pavilion once you are done. I will wait for you”

The horse took off into the night. You held on tightly to the guard’s shoulder, and if he heard you cry, he did not care to comment on it. You arrived at the Ashford Manor within minutes. Egg— Prince Aegon awaited you inside. Your legs shook as you lowered yourself in a curtsy. “My prince,” you greeted, too afraid to meet his eye.

“No, cousin,” he shook his head. “There is no need to do that. Come with me. Ser Duncan is being kept in the dungeons.”

You followed behind Aegon as he lit the dark hallways with a flaming torch. In the light, you could see his fair hair sprouting. How could you not have noticed? Were you really such an idiot?

Duncan sat on the floor in the dark with his head hanging between his legs. “I have brought her for you, Ser,” Aegon announced. “Perhaps you will speak now.”

He fit the torch into the holder on the brick wall and left you two alone. The pouring rain outside drowned the sounds of your rapid breaths. “I must beg your forgiveness for deceiving you, Ser,” your voice cracked, inching closer.

“Are you a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms?” he demanded, stopping you in your tracks.

“No,” you answered, truthfully. “I am simply a runaway. I did not mean to lie to you about it.”

He craned his head up to look at you, and the redness in his eyes made your legs almost give out. “But you did,” he stated, coldly. “About everything. Did you even give me your real name?”

“Yes,” you nodded earnestly.

You dropped down to your knees in front of him. “Why did you do it?” he asked, turning his face away from you. “Was it some jape? Make a fool of the stupid hedge knight?”

“No,” you whispered, trying to meet his gaze. “I thought the campsite had been abandoned, and I only meant to take some scraps of food and leave. I never thought I would run into you.”

“Then why did he lie for you?”

“B-Because he is a good boy,” you said, tears pouring down your face. “He was just looking out for me. Just like you do.”

Duncan scoffed. “I-I,” you stuttered, “I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.”

“Of course you did,” he spat, finally looking at you. “That’s why you lied.”

You doubled over, crying into your hands. You wanted him to understand that it was not a crime to want to live, but you could not find the words. Your problems seemed so small in front of what he was going through. Raymun had told you that Aerion Targeryan had accused him of treason, and tomorrow morning, Duncan would most likely be killed for it. What pained you the most was that you could not defend him. You could not keep him safe. Now the last memory of you in his mind will be soured by your lie.

“Dry your eyes,” you heard him say.

“I just wanted to be a part of someone’s family,” you sobbed. “I never meant to hurt you. I am sorry, Ser. I truly am,”

You felt his hand caress your hair. “It’s just a bit of bad luck we found each other at this time, huh? In another life, we could have been a real family.”

Aegon entered the dungeon cell. “My uncle wants to see you, Ser.”

You stayed kneeling on the ground long until after Duncan had stood up and left. “What will they do to him, Egg?”

The boy sighed, and for the first time, you noticed the toll everything had taken on him. He may be a prince, but he was a child first. “I don’t know, miss.”

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and stood up. “If they let him out tonight, send him to Fossoway Pavilion,” you sniffled. “You come with, and we shall at once leave this damned place together.”

You were on your third cup of ale when Duncan entered the pavilion, soaking wet.

You sprang to your feet and rushed at him. When you hugged him tightly, he did not push you away. He simply crushed you closer into his chest. You inhaled his scent, letting it flood your senses. Duncan the Tall was alive and in your arms.

After a long moment, Raymun cleared his throat, and you two let go. “What is happening with you, Ser?”

“I am to have a Trial of Seven,” the knight answered, letting you lead him to a bench.

“That’s fucking mad!” Raymun exclaimed.

“Why?” you demanded, urgently. “What’s wrong with it?”

“That means battleaxes,” he explained, “morningstars, and lances of war, miss.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “You are scaring her,” Duncan chided, reaching for your cup.

Raymun’s cousin, Steffon, who had been a pain to be around, spoke. “This is knightly combat, boy. She should be afraid.”

Duncan reached for your hand under the table as he continued. “I saw what Aerion did to that girl and her troupe. It was a rotten thing to do. All knights vow to protect the innocent, and you did exactly that. I am for you, Duncan.”

“Thank you, Ser.”

Steffon inquired, “Who else fights with us?”

“I know no one else,” Duncan answered, shaking his head.

He was an orphan, just like you. There was no kin for him to turn to, just like you. “I would fight for you,” you tell him. “I will fight for you.”

“Women can not be knights,” Steffon remarked, utterly confused. “And they do not fight in tourneys.”

“I know that you assh—”

Duncan squeezed your hand tight. “You are an honourable man, so naturally tragedy must follow you,” Raymun said, breaking the tension. “I am sure we can find five four men who wish singers to make them immortal.”

“I have some friends,” Steffon agreed, standing up. “I shall wake them at once.”

“Will they heed your call,” Duncan inquired, “and put their lives on the line for a man they do not know?”

“All men must die sometime,” he reminded him. “Tomorrow is a good day as any.”

Duncan would not let you out of his sight.

You did not want to leave it either. Knowing that tomorrow the Stranger may come for him made your heart weep. You wanted to spend every waking second with him. You wanted him to consume you whole so that when he departed, he would take all of you with him.

When you both made your way back to the inn and the room door was firmly shut, you melted into each other. You had spun around to reach him, and he was already in your arms.

His mouth crashed down on you in the dark. You gasped, mouth parting just enough for his tongue to slip inside. You licked his teeth just like you always wanted to as he backed you into a cold brick wall nearby. Your hands slid up his torso to hold his face. His large hands grabbed a handful of your ass through your skirt, and you bit down hard on his lip.

Duncan jerked back with a groan. He looked at you, confused. “You will not die tomorrow,” you told him, sternly. “Do you hear me?” His face softened. “Aye.”

He bent down to kiss your neck, and you craned your head back on your tiptoes. You finally understood when people said that with the right person, experiences like this are addictive. You never wished to be apart from his mouth. His hand stopped palming your ass to tug the front of your blouse down. He kissed the tops of your breasts, making you beg, “Take it off, please.”

Duncan tore away from you and took a few steps back. He wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

“Do not take this moment to fret about my virtue,” you said, sternly. “Do you not see how I ache for you?”

His head dropped low. “I may die tomorrow.”

You opened your mouth to object, but he hushed you. “What am I even leaving for you behind?”

“Do not speak to me as if I am your widow,” you spat, stalking up to him. “There will never be anyone else for me. You are it. Do you understand, Duncan? You are not doing anyone a favour by not fucking me right this moment.”

Blood rushed to his face. You shoved him down on the mattress, and the bed creaked under his weight. You pulled your skirt off first and then your blouse over your head before climbing onto his lap. He gulped, hands frozen mid-air. You let out an impatient grunt. “You stupid hedge knight.”

You grabbed fistfuls of his hair and kissed him hard. He resolve melted when your tongue danced with his. One moment you were in control, and the next you were under him. His mouth trailed wet kisses down your throat and to your pebbled nipples. He sucked one harshly into his mouth, eliciting a loud moan.

His hand found the other one to roll between the pads of his fingers. You reached blindly for the hem of his shirt. He parted from your flesh only when the fabric had forced its way up. He did not protest when you tugged his trousers down to free his hard cock.

The way it slapped against made you shudder. He pushed you into the mattress and balanced his weight on one hand. His eyes shone brightly in the dark.

“I have never done this before,” he confessed, blinking, “with anyone.”

“Good,” you smiled. “You never will either.”

He bent forward to rub his forehead against yours. “There will never be anyone else for me, too.”

He pressed a chaste kiss against your lips and pulled back with furrowed eyebrows. “I am too big,” he said. “I am afraid that it will hurt for you, and I do not know how to make it not so.”

Your smile grew wider. “It will not because it is you.”

“I’ll go slow,” Duncan promised, reaching for his leaking cock. “You will tell me if I displease you, miss?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows to watch and nodded. Your breath quickened as his leaky head pressed firmly against your opening. The intrusion burned, but you welcomed it for it was a salve for the fire spreading through your bones. He searched your face closely for any signs of discomfort. When he didn’t find any, he pushed all the way in. You collapsed back onto the thin mattress as he slowly stretched you open on his cock.

He was filling you to the brim soon. It was a perfect fit, almost like he was always meant to be in there. He did not move, but you felt the mattress dip around your head. His head popped into your line of blurry vision. “Hello?”

“Hey,” you responded, meekly.

“How does it feel?” he asked, licking his lips nervously.

Duncan had stretched you so wide that almost impossible to clench around him. “You were right,” you breathed, hands limp at your side. “You are huge. F-Feels like you’re still in my throat, Dunk.”

His cheeks redden at your words. “If you say things like that,” he bit his lower lip, “I won’t last long.”

You laughed weakly. “I don’t want you to,” you told him, exhaling. “I want you to fuck me into the mattress and then cum inside.”

He groaned in defeat and dropped his head on your sternum. You jerked the movement shifted his cook, feeding it even further into you. “Shit!”

He experimentally moved again, and your arms flew to hold onto his wide shoulders. Your nails dug crescents into his skin as he tentatively began to rock into you. Your soft groans echoed through the room in sync with his rolls.

You moved your legs to hang over his ass, and he snapped his hips forward, impaling you in the mattress. You cried out his name, and his lips found a spot to suck on your throat. “I have desired this for so long,” he gasped in your hair. “I cannot believe I’m finally inside you.”

Your eyes clenched shut as the tears began pouring. Hearing him want you as much as you wanted him made your heart sing.

“Every night when you slept away from me,” he continued, voice muffled, “every time we walked next to each other in the market, all I could think about was dragging you deep into the meadows. Did you know that? Did you know that I was dying to be inside you?”

He lifted his head up to see you sobbing. “Dunk!”

“When the lights fade from my vision for the final time tomorrow,” he grunted, thrusting into you, “I will think back to this moment. I will think of you.”

Your soul hurt hearing him speak like that. Duncan’s hands reached for the back of your knee and folded you like a straw at the hips. The sounds of your skin slapping together grew louder as he found a rhythm that, although thought to be impossible, did make you clench around him.

He adjusted himself, finding the spongy deep inside you. “Right there,” he groaned. “Gonna’ get you right there, dove.”

You groaned, legs wringing. “You look so beautiful like this,” he told you. “If I had known, I would have done this sooner. I could watch you forever. I will leave you my horses.”

Your back arced at a painful angle, but you pushed through the ache. Duncan had started to ramble; it was hurling you into the light quickly. “Yer squeezing me so tight,” he said to himself. “I could live inside you.”

You took hold of the light strands at the base of his neck. “Don’t stop! Do not stop!”

His lips stretched into a grin. If someone had told you on your first night at Ashford that you would have found yourself a knight buried deep in your cunt on the fortnight, you would have laughed in their face. If they had told you that you would fall in love with a stupid hedge knight, you would have laughed even harder. But there Duncan was, inching you closer to bliss by the second.

You did not notice when his thumb had slipped between you both to rub your clit. “Dunk,” you wheezed as he began to rut. “I’m—”

Your vision went white. Your cunt pulsed around him as waves of pleasure erupted from the base of your spine and out to your extremities. You cried out, shaking underneath him, as your vision blurred. The pinnacle wiped your head clean.

Duncan did not stop, cock still working into you. Your pussy grew sensitive as his rhythm grew sloppier. Grunts began pouring from his mouth as his arms tightened around you to thrust quickly and shallow. Your stomach tightened at the sight of him losing himself inside you. You wished to engrave the image of his heavy-lidded eyes and slack jaw into your mind forever. The knight was about to come undone.

Duncan let out a groan, heavy balls tightening against your ass, and flooded your cunt with warmth. He rocked into gently, riding out his orgasm. You felt impossible full as his cum leaked out of your cunt and dripped down the crevice between your ass cheeks.

He did not pull out. He cupped the back of your head and kissed you, messily. You melted into his mouth, limbs still tingling.

You kissed blissfully for a long time until he manoeuvred you around so that you lay on top of him.

His hands smoothed down your spine, and his lips pressed on top of your shoulders. “W-Was it just as good for you too?” he asked, breathless.

Your cunt still pulsed around him as aftershocks of your pleasure worked their way through you. You nodded against his chest, rubbing your cheek against the soft hair on his chest.

He hooked a finger under your chin to lift your face up to him. “I love you.” Tears brimmed in your eyes once again. “I love you too.”

He brushed his lip against yours and closed his eyes. You both stayed like that, joined together at the hip, until sleep took over. When you stirred up hours later, daylight was just breaking over the horizon through your window.

Duncan lay blissfully asleep and alive under you. You would keep him that way forever. Even if it cost the dragon house to burn itself.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

The Love Archive