A Squire of Storm's End Chapter 13: The past, the present
Lyonel loves the sharp wind pushing them into the Sea of Myrth, making his loose shirt flap like a bird’s wings. Dunk is catching flies again, squinting at something just above Lyonel’s shoulder, Beron leans against the mast next to Dunk, one hand shielding his eyes against the glare. “So, Myr, Tyrosh, through the Stepstones and then Lys?” “That’s what the captain said, yes.” “In good weather that would be how long?” “Hard to say, the Stepstones might cost us a week, depending on how the conditions are. Weather and other adversaries included. There’s always some fucking pirates hanging around down there.” “Do you think we’ll fight some?” Dread, well-masked under idle curiosity, but Lyonel sees the way Beron’s hand fists at his side, the way his knees go rigid, making him stumble through the next wave that bobs the ship along. “I’d like to avoid it, if possible. The Hart’s Desire is no war ship and we wouldn’t stand a proper chance against blood-thirsty corsairs.” Beron swallows nervously, nods. Which was to be expected. But what’s odd is, that Dunk hasn’t reacted at all. No peep. Just that stare over Lyonel’s shoulder. Makes him turn now, check if there’s a curious sail on the horizon everyone else has missed. But there’s nothing. Nothing but the merchant ships that have been on the horizon all day, nothing but the horizon itself. Lyonel jerks his chin at Dunk, nudges Beron. “So, what’s with him?” “Oh, beats me, ser. He’s been odd all day. Hit his head five times that I counted before the morning bell.” Lyonel winces, laughs. “Fuck, his poor brain must be all shaken around in there!” He makes his way over to Dunk, whose eyes snap to him, as soon as he moves. Blue and wide and startlingly clear.
chapter 13 is up, read it here in full on ao3! We're going to Lys next week, so stay tuned for that!!
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