Justafaerieee
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Summary
Dunk struggles enough with his predicament on his own. When his accidental travelling companion turns out not to be who they said they are it gets worse.
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Your face twists. “Bastard.”
“Aye!” And there he loses hold of himself. You are ungrateful. Half-naked, saved by him, and ungrateful, speaking to him as if he were some dog that had fouled your shoe. The fever seems to have passed its worst work, but you are still witless. Weak too. Your chest heaves unevenly and your thighs tremble beneath you as if anger alone is keeping you upright. Duncan knows trembling thighs on a woman from other times, and the thought sickens him with its own untimeliness. After it comes one of Ser Arlan’s old lessons on what a man does with insolent little things such as yourself. Before the hand he imagines can fall and meet flesh bent over the knee, his voice raises instead, full-force, and he’s spitting onto his own face. “That bastard hauled your boots off, found you walking on a foot black as rot, cooled your skin, changed your shirt, and sat by whilst you sweated half the fever out. You may curse me now only because of that!”Bookmarked by Justafaerieee
12 Apr 2026