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Duncan stood just inside the door to Baelor’s Solar, guarding the Prince as he read over ledgers and responded to letters from far off lords. He had been serving as Baelor’s sworn shield for almost half a year now, and pining for him even longer, since Baelor first showed kindness to him by recommending he be allowed to enter the lists at Ashford. The feelings Dunk had for him had only grown since then.
Duncan was grateful to be Baelor’s sworn shield. He spent every day with him, following him around like a puppy, albeit a considerably large and dangerous puppy. He was happy just to be near Baelor, to defend him, to one day maybe have the opportunity to save Baelor’s life as Baelor had saved his.
Duncan didn’t dare dream of anything more. He’d been told before that he didn’t know his place, but in reality he was content to serve. He couldn’t, however, help the thoughts that sometimes sprang to his mind unbidden, or the way his eyes always seemed to want to linger on the prince, to memorize every detail of his kind, handsome face.
Now Duncan’s eyes lingered on Baelor’s long, graceful fingers and they gripped his quill, writing a response to some lord or another. Duncan watched as Baelor paused in his writing to consider something, feeling a pang in his chest as he watched Baelor furrow his brow in concentration, wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows from years of overwork and the stresses of being the King’s Hand and heir to the throne. Duncan wished he wouldn’t work so hard, would rest more, take better care of himself. In the deepest, most secret part of his heart Duncan wished Baelor would let him take care of him, as more than just a shield.
Baelor twisted his ring around and around his finger, a habit Duncan found both endearing and strangely attractive. Suddenly Baelor looked up. His eyes met Duncan’s, catching him staring. Dunk glanced away quickly, cheeks coloring.
Baelor studied him, his face unreadable. “Ser Duncan, come here for a moment. I have a question I wish to ask you.”
Duncan’s body responded to the command before his brain had fully processed it, his legs carrying him across the room to stand before Baelor’s desk. You’ve done it this time Dunk you great oaf, Duncan though, you were careless, distracted in your duties, and he’s noticed.
Baelor rose from his chair and walked around the edge of his desk to stand by Duncan who turned to face him. Baelor looked up at him, holding his gaze for a moment. Duncan braced himself for whatever he was about to be asked. “Ser Duncan, if I were to tell you to kiss me, would you do it?”
“Your Grace?” Dunk croaked, barely above a whisper, taken completely aback. Of all the things the Prince could have asked him, this was the last thing Dunk had expected. He knows, Dunk thought, panic rising in his chest, He knows how I feel about him, the thoughts I have that no true knight should, he’s going to send me away. All those stupid lovesick glances, Duncan you fool. He’s the heir to the Iron Throne.
Duncan could feel his ears and cheeks burning, but he forced himself to look Baelor in the eye, bracing himself for the disgust, anger, and rejection he would surely find there. Instead he found only gentleness, curiosity, fondness even. Maybe… Maybe he is serious? But that cannot be…
Baelor cocked his head to the side, a slight smile playing about his lips. “I asked you, Ser Duncan, if I told you to kiss me, would you do it? And if the answer is yes, would it be merely out of duty, or because you desire to do it?”
Duncan’s mouth felt disconnected from his brain, but still he heard himself utter one word, scarcely above a whisper: “desire.” It was, perhaps, the most honest thing he had said to Baelor since he fell to his knees in tears in front of him after the Trial of Seven and declared himself Baelor’s man.
Baelor held his gaze, eyes locked on Duncan’s own. “Kiss me.” Duncan’s breath caught, scarcely able to believe the words he had just heard, the order he had been given. He hesitated, just for a moment, then slowly began to lean down towards Baelor, he was close enough to smell the scented oil the prince wore: something warm and heady with a hint of citrus and spice. Dunk felt his head swimming with it, but still kept enough of his wits to wonder: could this be a trap?
Duncan’s worries were driven completely from his mind as Baelor reached forward and grabbed him by the clasp of his cloak, pulling Duncan to him. Their mouths met soft and gentle at first, then harder as both melted into the kiss. One of Duncan’s hands found Baelor’s waist, the other rested softly against Baelor’s bearded cheek. As in all things, Duncan let Baelor lead, careful not to overstep. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Duncan fought hard to remain in the moment, to memorize the details: the feeling of Baelor’s arm around his waist pulling him close, his lips warm and soft on his own, his tongue in his mouth, the taste of him. He knew he would be going over this moment again and again, and it may never happen again.
All too soon for Dunk, Baelor pulled away. He took a slight step back, but took hold of one of Dunk’s hands in both of his. “I had to be sure. I would hate to think I was forcing my affections on you when they were neither desired nor requited.”
“You needn’t worry yourself on that front, your grace.” Duncan said, unable to stop a breathless little chuckle from escaping him. Months spent pining and the whole time he felt the same, or at least some of the time.
“That will be all, Ser Duncan,” Baelor said with a smile, returning to his seat behind his desk. “For now, that is.”
Duncan returned to his post by the door, feeling almost weightless, a goofy grin on his face that he was unable to control. He had no idea how things would progress from here on, or if they even would. But he knew now that, at the very least, his feelings weren’t completely unrequited, far more than he’d ever expected. He knew even if he never got another, the memory of that kiss would carry him through many dark times. Duncan couldn’t help hoping though that there would be another, would be many more. Maybe I don’t know my place… Duncan thought. He decided he didn’t care.