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A note under your door, sweet words that remain nameless. You read it in front of the fire; press it amongst the pages of a book to keep forever.
In the morn, you stroll along the royal gardens, the youngest Strong sister accompanying you as usual. She likes to talk of poetry, but as much as you wish, you cannot share the secret of your poet. There are ears everywhere in court and you are not to break the trust of the person who could find such loving words to say to you.
“Did you hear? My brother is to be Commander of the City Watch. The king himself will soon make the announcement, although that was to be expected with my father’s position at court.”
Her tone makes you laugh.
“Don’t be so dismissive of your brother’s achievements; I’m sure he’s more than earned it.”
“I am not! You know that is not what I meant. I have deep respect and love for Harwin. Larys, on the other hand…”
“Stop it! Someone could hear.”
Childish laughter fills the garden and you take seat amongst fresh roses.
“Alright, alright.”
Heavy footsteps approach slowly. It is as if your thoughts brought him to you.
“My ladies.”
“Harwin! Such coincidence, we were just talking about you.”
His large stature casts a shadow upon the two of you, but you cannot help but notice the delicate illuminance of his hair under the sun. His eyes are on you even when he addresses his sister.
“Nothing bad, I hope.”
“We could not find such things to mention if we tried.”
He smiles at you so softly.
It is suspicious truly that he, like any man, cannot be fully captured. A man renowned for breaking bones and winning battles kisses his sisters sweetly on the cheek and looks at you so tenderly that you might melt under his gaze.
“I thought to inform you, Brienna has just arrived from Harrenhal.”
“With the babe?”
“Of course.”
The girl flutters at the mention of her older sister and her newborn child coming into court.
“Will you not come, Harwin?”
“I will join you for dinner. You should go; she is very tired and awaits you.”
She mutters swift apologies and hurries away once you assure her there is no harm done.
The air tenses noticeably in her absence.
“Are you not in a hurry to meet your nephew?”
“What a cruel accusation to make, my lady.” his feigned hurt amuses you and he rejoices in your smile, “I, unfortunately, have matters to attend to beforehand, but I would escort you to your chambers if you allowed me.”
“I would not want to delay you-”
“It would be a pleasure to do so, my lady. Please believe me when I say so.”
Neither of you quite knows what to do with your hands. They hang like limp outgrowths and almost itch at the thought of a caress. Such a waste.
“I ought to congratulate you on your new rank. I was very happy to hear.”
His brows raise in surprise. You were very happy to hear.
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Does this mean you will not compete in the upcoming tourney?”
“I am afraid so, my lady. Otherwise, I would have asked for your favor already.”
This, in turn, surprises you.
The end of your brief journey comes right as the conversation seems to bear the littlest resemblance to passions shared through written words. Your parting ways aches like pulling a bandage from an open wound.
When the night douses the city in darkness, another note is at your door. Of course, no name is to be found on it. He knows better than to risk your reputation.
He talks about the color of your eyes, the softness of your hands when they touched him briefly.
The next five moons, there is not another note. Now formally Commander, you assume he has no time for boyish affections. It was foolish to assume you knew his heart.