The rain continued to fall heavily over the city long after Lunk and Arthur had managed to get out. Though in reality it wasn't long before a large contingent of Goldcloaks forced their way through the open gates of the manse on the Street of sisters. Their white-and-gold cloaks clung wetly to their mail, and their boots splashed through the puddles that gathered in the courtyard. Servants huddled behind overturned carts and scattered crates, some clutching one another while others pressed themselves against the walls, their faces pale with fear.
At their head rode Captain Harwin Waters, a broad-shouldered man with a scarred cheek and a voice that carried easily over the storm. He reined in his horse near the center of the courtyard and raised his hand. "Stay where you are!" he bellowed at the servants. "No one moves until I say otherwise!" the huddled figures froze with wide eyes as they stared up at the mounted officer and the ring of armed men around him.
His Goldcloaks spread out quickly. Some moved toward the servants to keep them in place, while others turned their attention to the stable, which continued to burn despite the rain. The heat pushed back against the cold downpour, and smoke billowed upward in thick black clouds. Two of the men approached Captain Harwin, shielding their faces from the smoke.
"What do we do about the fire, Captain?" one asked, shouting to be heard over the flames and the rain.
Harwin glanced at the burning building, then shook his head. "Leave it," he ordered. "The rain will deal with it soon enough. We have more important matters."
He dismounted and handed his reins to a nearby man, then strode toward the cluster of servants. Water streamed from his cloak as he stopped in front of them. "Who owns this manse?" he demanded. "Speak quickly and speak true."
A trembling woman near the front, still clutching a bundle of linens, answered first. "Master Willem, ser. This is his house."
Another servant, an older man with gray in his beard, nodded. "Master Willem, ser. He has lived here these past five years," he said backing up the woman.
Captain Harwin's eyes widened as the name registered. He stood motionless for a heartbeat, rain dripping from the rim of his helmet, and then he whirled toward his men. "That man is the one we seek," he said, "Surround the house at once. No one enters or leaves without my word. Half of you with me we go inside now." The Goldcloaks moved fast despite the heavy armour and they fanned out around the manse, taking positions at every door and window, while Harwin led a dozen men up the wide stone steps and through the main entrance.
The entrance hall lay in disarray. Overturned furniture blocked parts of the floor, and dark stains spread across the expensive carpets. The Goldcloaks stepped carefully around the mess as they searched room after room. They checked the kitchens, the storerooms, the upper floors, and the private chambers. It was in the solar at the back of the house, they found him. Willem lay on his back near the cold hearth, his fine velvet doublet soaked with blood from a single stab wound. His eyes stared sightlessly at the painted ceiling. One of the Goldcloaks knelt and lifted the man's left hand, turning it to reveal a heavy gold ring set with a black W engraved.
"It is him," the man confirmed, looking up at Captain Harwin. "The ring matches the description."
Another Goldcloak, younger and still pale from the sight of so many dead, surveyed the room and the hallway beyond. "What happened here, Captain? It looks as though a massacre took place."
Harwin pressed his lips together and gave no answer. He did not know, and he had no intention of guessing. They had orders from the Lord Commander himself, and speculation served no purpose. "We report what we find," he said flatly. "Nothing more. Wrap the body and prepare it for transport. We ride for the Red Keep at once."
The men set to work. They found a large tapestry in one of the chambers and rolled Willem's body into it, binding it with cords taken from the window curtains. Within the hour Captain Harwin and six of his men rode out through the gates, the wrapped corpse tied across a spare horse led behind them. The remaining Goldcloaks stayed to keep watch over the manse and the servants until further orders arrived. The ride back through the city took longer than usual. The streets ran with water, and the horses picked their way carefully over cobblestones. When they reached the Red Keep, the great gates swung open for them, and they clattered into the outer yard. Harwin dismounted and called to one of the guards on duty.
"Where is the Lord Commander?" he asked.
The guard glanced at the shrouded burden and then back to the captain. "Ser Duncan is on duty tonight, ser. He guards the Princess Rhaellas chambers."
Harwin nodded once. "Remain here," he told his men, gesturing toward the tied horse and its cargo. "I will report."
He climbed the staircases alone, his wet cloak leaving a trail of water on the stone as he made his way to the royal apartments. Ser Duncan the Tall stood at the end of the hallway outside of Princess Rhaella's room, his white cloak clasped at the shoulder with the white cloaks' brooch.
"Captain," Duncan greeted quietly. "What news?"
Harwin kept his voice quiet. "We found Willem, my lord. He is dead, along with every guard in his manse. The servants remain, but they claim no knowledge of what occurred. There was no one else there."
Duncan's brow furrowed, and he absorbed the report in silence for a moment. The news clearly disturbed him, yet he maintained his composure. "I see. You have the body?"
"Yes, my lord. Below in the yard."
Duncan nodded. "You have done well, Captain. Return to your men. I will inform those who need to know."
Harwin saluted and withdrew. When the Goldcloak's footsteps had faded down the corridor, Ser Duncan turned back to the door. He knocked three times. A minute passed in silence. Then the door opened, and Princess Rhaella stood framed in the doorway. She wore a simple nightgown of pale silk, and her silver hair hung loose over her shoulders. Concern creased her delicate features as she looked up at the tall knight.
"What is wrong, Ser Duncan?" she asked softly.
Duncan stepped inside and closed the door behind him before he spoke. "The Goldcloaks have returned from the manse, Your Grace. They found Willem dead. His guards were killed as well. Whoever did it left no trace beyond the servants."
Rhaella's violet eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but before any words came, another figure appeared behind her. Mira stepped into the light, dressed in a borrowed nightdress. Her eyes were red and swollen from recent tears, and she clutched the doorframe as she looked at Ser Duncan.
"Did they question him?" she asked in a rush. "Did they learn where Arthur is? Did they find any letters, any word of him at all?"
Ser Duncan waited until she had finished. He met her gaze and sighed as his voice carried genuine regret. "I am sorry, my lady. Willem is dead. Someone broke into the manse tonight and killed him along with all his guards. The Goldcloaks found no one else there, whatever knowledge he had about Arthur is gone with him."
Rhaella turned at once and wrapped her arms around her friend. "I am so sorry, Mira," she whispered. "We tried. Truly, we tried to help."
Mira stood still within the embrace for a moment, but no fresh tears came. Instead, she drew a shaky breath and pulled back gently. A small, wondering smile touched her lips. "No," she said quietly. "No, you do not understand, this is good news, this means Arthur is alive."
Rhaella frowned in confusion, and Ser Duncan raised an eyebrow.
"Who else would have gone to that manse tonight and killed Willem? Who else would have reason to strike him down so completely? Arthur must have come for me. He must have thought I was still there, that Willem still held me prisoner. He must've came to rescue me."
Ser Duncan folded his arms across his chest. "The man could have had many enemies in this city," he pointed out. "Debts, rivalries.,. any number of men might have wanted him dead."
Mira shook her head firmly. "No. This was Arthur. I know it in my heart. The way it was done it has to be him, I know my bro...Husband, he would do anything to get me back..."
Rhaella glanced at Ser Duncan, uncertainty clear in her expression. The tall knight remained silent, his face thoughtful but unconvinced. Yet Mira paid no heed to their doubts. The smile that now lit her face was brighter than the stars in the sky, the first true smile she had shown in months.
She clasped her hands together and looked toward the window, where the rain had finally begun to ease. Knowing that Arthur lived, that he had come so close, that he still fought for her it filled her with warmth that chased away the chill of the long night. For the first time since her ordeal began, hope burned strong within her.
____________________________________
The rain had eased into a thin drizzle by the time Arthur and Lunk reached the narrow alley that led to the orphanage gate. Arthur leaned heavily on Lunk's massive arm, which supported most of his weight as they moved forward step by step while his own legs trembled from exhaustion and the pain that throbbed through every wound he carried. Lunk limped beside him, cradling his broken thumbs against his chest, though he made no complaint despite the way his face twisted whenever his hands brushed against his tunic.
They pushed through the gate, which creaked softly under Lunk's arm, and crossed the small yard. The orphanage building loomed ahead, completelyy dark except for a single flicker of candlelight that spilled from the cracks around the front door. Arthur reached for the latch, as he reached for it his hands shook from blood loss, eventually he pulled it open slowly.
Inside the main hall, the hearth still held a small fire that barely fought away the darkness of the night. Alys sat at one of the tables with her hands held tightly together. Cassie paced nearby with her arms wrapped around herself as she stared toward the door. Meanwhile Jory was slumped in a chair near the entrance, his head nodded forward onto his chest and his practice sword resting across his lap.
The door's movement brought both women whirling around, and their eyes widened as they took in the sight of the two figures who stepped inside. Alys rose first, her chair scraping back across the floorboards while her hands flew to her mouth, and Cassie froze mid-step with a deep intake of breath that broke the silence. "Lunk?" Alys whispered, as though saying his name too loudly might make him dissappear. "Gods... Lunk?"
She took one step forward, then another, her eyes never leaving his face, searching for proof that this was real. When she stood close enough, her hand lifted and hovered, before she finally touched his arm with trembling fingers. "Is it really you?" she breathed. "Am I seeing you, or am I finally losing my wits?"
Lunk looked down at her, his broad face crumpling as recognition flooded his eyes, confusion giving way to a small smile. "Alys," he rumbled. His breath hitched. "Lunk home."
Alys let out a sob that echoed through the hall, and she threw her arms around his waist as far as they would reach, pressing her face against his soaked tunic while her shoulders shook violently. "Oh, my sweet boy," she cried, the words tumbling over one another. "Oh, thank the Seven, thank every god that listens."
She clutched him tighter. "I thought I had lost you forever. I thought when you left that was it, that I'd handed you to that monster and never...never—" Her voice broke completely. "I am so sorry, Lunk. I am so sorry for what I did. I should have fought harder. I should have stopped him. I failed you."
Lunk wrapped his uninjured arm gently around her, careful with his strength, and patted her back with a hand that engulfed her shoulder. His own tears soaked into her apron as he shook his head slowly. "No," he said softly. He sniffed, blinking hard. "Lunk happy now. Lunk home. With Alys."
Cassie, who had stood frozen during their exchange, suddenly moved when the firelight fully revealed Arthur's condition. Her breath caught painfully in her chest as she rushed forward. "Arthur—" she gasped. "Arthur, stop, you're going to fall." Her hands gripped his arms, which were slick with blood. "Gods, look at you. You're shaking." Her eyes filled instantly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You're... b-bleeding everywhere... gods you can barely stand."
Arthur lifted his head with effort, his vision swimming as he met her gaze. Shame and relief warred in his chest. "Cassie," he said hoarsely, forcing the words through cracked lips.
"Shhh don't talk, let's get you sat down so we can see how bad it is first," Cassie said as she started trying to move him over to the table.
Arthur shook his head "Please. Just—" he tried to say.
Tears continued to stream down her face as she wrapped her arms around. "You're so h-hurt..." she said as she wiped her eyes.
He swallowed, breath hitching. "Let me say this first. I need to say it now, before I lose the chance." He leaned more heavily on her rather than Lunk now. "I am sorry. For what I said before I left. For the way I spoke to you." His voice trembled. "You opened your heart to me, and I— I lashed out. I was afraid. Angry. I didn't know how to stay without breaking. He shook his head weakly. "This place... you...the children. It feels like home. More than anywhere I have ever known. I never meant to hurt you. I regret every word that pushed you away."
Cassie stared at him with a stunned expression, tears streaming freely now. For a moment she looked angry, wounded, overwhelmed all at once, and then she shook her head. "You idiot..." she said. "You absolute, unbearable idiot." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him carefully avoiding the worst of his injuries but holding him as tightly as she dared.
"You don't get to say that while looking so hurt," she whispered fiercely into his shoulder. Her sobs broke free. "You scared me... I thought you weren't coming back."
Alys pulled back from Lunk at last, wiping her eyes with the hem of her apron, though her hands still trembled. She took in Arthur's state properly now, her expression tightening with concern. "Enough," she said firmlyit. "Both of you, that's enough talking for now."
She gestured toward the long table where bowls and cloths waited. "Sit. Before you fall flat on your face."
Her gaze softened slightly. "You can bare your souls later. Right now, you're both in no state to argue or confess anything."
Lunk helped Arthur to the nearest bench, lowering him gently while Cassie hovered closeby. Alys guided Lunk to sit opposite and immediately took his hands in hers.
"Let me see," she murmured, already frowning. "Oh, gods above..." She examined his swollen thumbs carefully. "Who did this to you?" she demanded, anger bleeding into her voice. "Who hurt you like this?"
Arthur managed a weak smile, resting his head against his good arm on the table. "Sorry," he murmured. "That'd be me." He breathed out slowly. "Me and Lunk... didn't start on the best footing." He attempted a chuckle, which turned into a harsh cough that brought fresh blood to his lips. His eyes rolled back. "Guess... we settled it—" His body gave out, his head dropping forward onto his folded arms with a dull thud.
"Arthur!" Cassie cried, panic ripping through her as she lunged for him. Her hands fumbled at the clasp of his cloak as she pulled it free. "No, no, no—please—" The sight beneath stole the breath from her lungs. "Alys," she sobbed, horror flooding her face. "Help me. Please. He's hurt so badly."
Alys's face went pale, but she did not hesitate. "Lunk," she said calmly. "Now. Help me get him to the back room. Gently." Her voice softened just enough to reassure. "We've handled worse. He'll be alright."
They carried him through the corridor to the small room where Arthur had slept during his recovery, and Lunk laid him down on the narrow cot, lowering him a little at a time. Cassie dropped to her knees at once and reached for Arthur's boots, her fingers stiff and clumsy as she worked at the straps. "H-Hold still," she stuttered, though Arthur did not move. "Just...let me get these off." Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard as the first boot came free and hit the floor.
Alys returned with clean cloths and a basin of water that still steamed faintly from the hearth. "Easy now Cass," she said as she set it down. "We will do this properly. Rushing will only make it worse."
Together they eased Arthur's tunic up and over his head, moving slowly so they did not pull at the wounds. Cassie froze when the fabric came away, her breath catching in her throat as she looked down at him. Cuts and bruises marked his chest and arms, and two deep wounds opened along his side and shoulder, the skin around them swollen and torn. "Oh... gods," Cassie said quietly. "Arthur, you did not tell me it was this bad." Her hands shook as she reached for a cloth.
She pressed it to the wound in his side, leaning her weight into it as blood soaked through almost at once. Tears spilled down her face, and she brushed them away with her wrist without looking up. "Stay with me," she said under her breath. "You came all this way... you came back to me... you don't get to say such beautiful words to me only to die..."
Alys sat beside the bed and threaded a needle with gut string she had prepared earlier. She took a deep breath to calm her hands as she dipped a cloth into the basin and began to clean the wounds one by one. "This will hurt if he wakes," she said. "But it has to be done."
Cassie nodded and wiped her tears with her sleeve. "I can hold him," she said. "Just tell me what you need."
Alys cleaned the wounds carefully, then began to stitch the deeper ones closed. Cassie kept pressure where she was told and wiped away blood when it ran too freely.
"I am here," Cassie said again and again, though Arthur did not respond. "I am not leaving you."
The room stayed quiet except for Cassie's frantic breathing and the sounds of Alys working. When the stitches were finished, Alys packed the wounds with poultices she mixed from her stores and pressed clean cloths over them. Arthur's breathing changed after a while, growing shallow and uneven. His face lost color, and his lips parted as though he could not draw in enough air. Cassie felt for his pulse at his neck, and her fingers trembled when it fluttered weakly beneath her touch. "Alys," she said in a panic. "Something is wrong." She pressed harder on the bandage. "He is slipping away."
Alys looked at Arthur, then reached for the small bowl she had kept ready. "I see it," she said. "Do not let go."
She poured a thick herbal tonic into a cup and lifted Arthur's head enough to tip it between his lips. "Help me hold his head, he needs to swallow," she said softly. Cassie did so and helped Alys hold his head up as she poured the mixture down his throat.
Arthur coughed weakly, and some of it spilled down his chin. "Please," Cassie said, leaning close to him. "You fight everyone and everything. You can fight this too."
Alys rubbed Arthur's chest to help the mixture go down. "Stay with us boy," she said quietly.
Time dragged on without shape, marked only by Arthur and his injuries. Slowly, Arthur's breathing evened out. Color returned faintly to his face, and his heart beat strongly under Cassie's fingers. Cassie let out a broken sound that was half a sob and half a breath she had been holding too long. "He is still here," she said. "He is still here."
Alys straightened and washed her hands. "He is stable for now," she said. "He will need watching, but he has passed the worst of it."
Cassie nodded without speaking. She lowered herself into the chair beside the cot and took Arthur's hand in both of hers. "I am staying," she whispered. "I will be right here when you wake up." Her head rested against the edge of the mattress as exhaustion finally pulled her under. Her grip stayed tight around Arthur's hand as sleep took her, her body not moving an inch as though letting go was not an option.
___________________________________
Arthur stood once more in the solar of Willem's manse and he moved forward with Sunset drawn in his hand as he searched for Mira, whom he knew waited somewhere within these walls. He pushed through a set of inner doors that opened into a private chamber, and there she stood in the center of the room with a iron chain locked around her neck, which trailed to a ring bolted into the floor. She wore nothing, her body exposed while she knelt on a cushion that Willem had placed before his chair. Willem sat there with his legs spread, his hand tangled in her hair as he guided her head downward, he laughed while she served him though it was clearly forced.
Arthur felt rage explode within him, a roar tearing from his throat as he charged forward with Sunset raised high. He swung at Willem, who looked up with a smirk that widened into mockery, but Karl stepped from the shadows with his longsword already drawn, and the blade caught Sunset in a parry that wrenched the weapon from Arthur's grip. The sword clattered away across the floor, and before Arthur could recover, Karl drove his dagger forward into Arthur's side with a twist that sent pain lancing through him.
Lunk appeared behind Arthur then, his massive hands clamping down on Arthur's shoulders with strength that pinned him to his knees while Karl stabbed again, this time into his shoulder. Arthur struggled against the hold, which only tightened as Lunk held him immobile, and Willem rose from the chair with deliberate slowness. He grabbed Mira by the chain, yanking her upright so she stumbled against him, and he cupped her face with one hand while he kissed her.
Arthur roared again, straining against Lunk's grip while Willem pulled back and laughed directly into Arthur's face. "Look at her," Willem said as he stroked Mira's cheek. "She serves me now, and she does it well."
...
"RAAAAH!!!"
Arthur woke with a gasp that tore through his chest, his body drenched in sweat that soaked the bandages wrapped around his torso. He sat up abruptly, his eyes darting around the small room in panic while his heart pounded against his ribs, he searched the shadows anything that even looked like Willem. The cot creaked under his sudden movement, and the faint light of dawn filtered through the cracked shutters, which revealed the familiar walls of the orphanage room.
Cassie, who had remained seated beside him with her head resting on the edge of the mattress, stirred immediately and reached for his hand, which she clasped firmly between both of hers. "Arthur," she murmured softly, despite the worry that etched her features she leaned closer. "It is all right, you are safe here with us, breathe slowly and let the fear pass."
Arthur flinched at her touch at first, his body still caught in the remnants of the nightmare, but he focused on her face which made him feel a lot better. He drew several deep breaths that slowed his racing heart, and realized gradually that the images had been nothing more than a dream, which faded as reality settled around him. Willem and Karl lay dead in his manse, their bodies left for the Goldcloaks to find, and Mira was safe within the walls of the Red Keep.
He shifted carefully on the cot, pain flaring through his side and shoulder as he looked down at his bare chest, where fresh stitches closed the deep stab wounds and bandages covered the bruises that spread across his skin. "Sorry," he said quietly, meeting Cassie's gazee. "It was just a bad dream that felt too real."
Cassie rubbed her thumb gently along the back of his hand in slow circles, she nodded while she continued the motion. "Do you need water, or perhaps some broth?" she asked softly. "You have slept for hours, and you lost much blood, so tell me if there is anything that would help."
Arthur shook his head slowly, careful not to jar his wounds further. "No, thank you," he replied. "I feel well enough for now." He paused, then added with curiosity that lightened his tone slightly, "Was it you who saw to these stitches?"
Cassie smiled faintly and squeezed his hand. "Alys and I worked together," she said, "but she did most of the sewing and mixing of the poultices, since she is better with such things."
Arthur chuckled softly as he swung his legs over the edge of the cot and sat upright with effort that pulled at his stitches.
Cassie tilted her head slightly. "What's so amusing," she asked.
"I just think it is funny," he said, glancing toward the door. "Two weeks ago I stood ready to kill her for what she had done."
"But if I had followed through then, I would likely lie dead now..." he turned his gaze back from the door and towards Cassie.
Cassie moved closer on the chair, her smile softening further as she reached out to rest her free hand on his arm. "The gods reward those who choose mercy," she said gently, her fingers tracing light patterns on his skin.
Arthur looked down at their joined hands, uncertainty clouding his expression as he considered her words. Cassie shifted then, climbing onto the cot so she knelt beside him, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a careful embrace that avoided pressing against his injuries. "Are you truly all right, Arthur?" she asked.
He leaned into her hold slightly, "Mira was not at the manse," he said quietly. "I fought through everything only to find the place empty of her."
Cassie pulled back enough to meet his eyes, sorrow filling her gaze. "I am sorry," she whispered, cupping his cheek with one hand. "You went through so much, and she was not even there."
Arthur shook his head faintly. "It is all right," he replied. "Willem told me before he died that she stays safe in the Red Keep, under the protection of Princess Rhaella."
Cassie brightened at that, her hand returning to his. "That is good news," she said earnestly. "You should feel joy that she remains unharmed and had managed to get out of his reach."
"I know," Arthur admitted, though his voice carried a note of sadness that persisted.
Cassie tilted her head her concern deepening as she waited for him to continue. "Why do you seem so sad, then?" she asked softly.
Arthur stared at the floor for a moment before he spoke. "Karl said things to me in the courtyard before I killed him," he explained. "He spoke of knights and heroes from stories, claiming they always die while men like him take what they want, that the world belongs to those who seize without honor." He paused, meeting her gaze. "It makes me wonder if my way of acting, always charging forward for what I believe right, only places those I care about in danger... that maybe in trying to help Mira I've only placed her in danger."
Cassie shifted fully onto the cot then, kneeling so she faced him directly, and she enveloped him in another hug that pressed her body gently against his. "The world holds many men like Karl," she said firmly, her breath warm against his neck. "Yet the only reason they do not rule everything is because men like you exist, good and true men who stand against injustice and always choose what is right, no matter the cost."
Arthur rested his forehead against her shoulder. "I am only one man," he murmured. "What difference can I truly make?"
Cassie drew back slightly, her hands framing his face as she looked deeply into his eyes. "You have already made differences in lives that matter," she said, her voice steady with conviction. "You saved me and the children from those men at the river, you even rescued Alys from the awful choices she felt forced to make, you freed Lunk from being used as a tool, and you ended Willem, who hurt and sold people for years without consequence." She leaned closer, their foreheads touching. "In the end, who knows how many others will live better lives because of what you did."
Arthur lifted his gaze to hers, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you," he said sincerely, gratitude warming his words.
Cassie shook her head gently, her hands sliding to his shoulders. "Many people believe knights from the old stories do not walk among us," she continued. "If I speak truthfully, I once thought the same, that such men belonged only to songs and tales." She paused, searching his eyes. "But you changed that for me, Arthur, you made me believe they are real." Her breath caught slightly. "And that belief led me here, to this truth I can no longer keep inside." She drew a breath. "I love you, Arthur."
Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, his thoughts scattering as he processed her confession. Cassie continued before he could speak, her words rushing out. "I know you cannot return it in the same way, that your heart belongs to Mira, who is your wife and waits for you." Tears glistened in her eyes, yet she held his gaze. "But I could not spend another moment
in this world without telling you, without letting you know that I will always stand beside you, support you in whatever comes, and that my heart belongs to you completely."
Arthur felt emotion choke his throat, his mind in disarray as he realized the depth of his own feelings, which had grown in the time spent here without him ever knowing it. "Cassie," he said, looking deep into her eyes.
"I... love you as well."
Her breath caught audibly, her eyes widening further, but before she could respond, Arthur leaned forward and kissed her, his lips pressing against hers with a tenderness that conveyed everything words failed to capture. The kiss deepened gradually, their mouths moving together faster and faster, Arthur shifted carefully on the cot so he hovered over her, supporting his weight on his good arm while his free hand traced along her side.
Cassie moaned softly into his mouth as his fingers found places that drew responses from her body, his touch guided by both [Carnal Knowledge] and [Massage]. She trembled beneath him, her hands clutching his shoulders while their tongues danced together, not too long after that a small climax rippled through her that made her arch against him with a muffled cry against his lips.
She reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her completely bare under him. Her slender body stretched out long and lean, with small breasts that rose and fell with each quick breath, her small nipples already hard and tight from the brush of air. Her waist dipped in narrow before her hips curved just enough to fit his hands, and between her thighs, a soft patch of hair hid the heat he could feel radiating from her.
Arthur undid the laces of his trousers with his free hand and shoved them down to his knees. He kissed down her neck, licking the salt from her skin and breathing in her scent that made his cock throb harder against her thigh. He slid lower and took one hard nipple into his mouth, sucking it slowly while his tongue flicked over the tip, drawing muffled moans from Cassie as she clamped her hand over her mouth and arched up into him.
"Do not make me wait," she whispered urgently, her voice breathless. "I want you so much, Arthur, please."
Arthur slid his hand downward between her legs, finding the thick patch of black hair that framed her, already soaked with arousal that coated his fingers as he parted her folds. She gasped at the touch, hips lifting toward him. He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the head of his cock along her lips, which drew another moan from her as she clutched his back.
"It might hurt a little at first," he murmured against her ear.
"I know," Cassie whispered back, her eyes locked on his.
Arthur pushed forward slowly, the tight heat of her enveloping him inch by inch as he entered her fully for the first time. Cassie tensed initially, a sharp intake of breath escaping her as the brief pain registered, but it faded quickly into pleasure that made her wrap her legs around his waist and pull him deeper. For Arthur, the sensation overwhelmed him, her warmth gripping him in a way that sent waves of pleasure through his body with every small movement, he paused once fully inside to let her adjust while he continued to kiss her deeply.
They moved together then, Arthur thrusting gently at first with strokes that built in rhythm as Cassie met him with her hips, her moans filling the room each time he filled her completely. "Arthur," she gasped against his lips during one kiss, "it feels so good, don't stop." He shifted angles slightly, drawing deeper sounds from her as he found spots that made her tremble, and soon her body clenched around him in a second climax that had her nails digging into his back while she cried out his name.
He continued without pause, their eyes meeting often as they shared kisses, their sweat mingling on their skin while the cot creaked beneath them. Cassie reached a third peak shortly after, her body arching as pleasure washed over her again, and she whispered, "I love you," against his mouth.
Arthur felt his own release building, his thrusts growing harder and deeper as his balls tightened. "I love you too," he said hoarsely, the words sealing between them just before ecstasy claimed him. He drove fully into her one final time, releasing his seed in powerful pulses that filled her completely, the sensation prolonged and intense as wave after wave coursed through him until he spent himself inside her warmth, which triggered her fourth orgasm that milked him further while she clung to him.
Arthur collapsed gently onto her, his body covering hers while his cock remained buried within her, softening slowly as they both caught their breath. Cassie wore a serene expression, her eyes half-closed in contentment while she stroked his hair, and they lay tangled together in the quiet room where dawn light now shone through the shutters.
(AN: Arthur my boy what have you done, going and falling in love with another girl. Mira is going to be fuming. Anyway that's that with the intro Arc to Kings Landing. Now we are moving onto the Tournament of Pow— I mean the Tournament arc where Arthur finally gets to become a squire. Hope you enjoyed.)
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