Willing Heart / Ser Duncan the Tall / Vaera Targaryen

9. Apple

They had given Dunk back his sword and silver, yet as he waded across the ford, his thoughts were bleak. He wondered if they expected him to saddle a horse and flee. He could, if he wished. But two horrible things would happen. Firstly, that would be the end of his knighthood, he would be no more than an outlaw henceforth, until the day some lord took him and struck off his head. DUnk thought it better to die a knight than live like that, he told himself stubbornly.

 Secondly, Vaera. There need be no more explanation. She was stunning and from that smile, maybe he was seeing things but he wanted her to believe in him. Wanted her to see him win. 

Dunk trudged along. Most of the pavilions were dark, their owners long asleep, but here and there a few candles still burned. Dunk heard soft moans and cries of pleasure coming from within one tent. It made him wonder whether he would die without ever having known a maid. But he didnt want a maiden, he wanted the princess which was useless and pointless yet thats where his mind drifted. 

Then he heard the snort of a horse, a snort he somehow knew for his horse, Thunder's. He turned his steps and ran, and there he was, tied up with Chestnut outside a round pavilion lit from within by a vague golden glow.

 Dunk knew it was foolish but to him, it looked like hope. 

"A trial by combat," Raymun said heavily. Dunk turned to the knight.  "Gods be good, Duncan, that means lances of war, morningstars, battle-axes...the swords won't be blunted, do you understand that?"

 "Raymun the Reluctant," mocked his cousin Ser Steffon. An apple made of gold and garnets fastened his cloak of yellow wool. "You need not fear, cousin, this is a knightly combat." Steffon assured.  "As you are no knight, your skin is not at risk." Raymun rolled his eyes.  "Ser Duncan, you have one Fossoway at least. The ripe one." He offered, Dunk nodded to him, confusion filled him, he needed seven could this knight be offering up his services or just being kind? "I saw what Aerion did to those puppeteers. I am for you." Dunk's face lite up, he had one. That was more hope that a moment ago. 

 "And I," snapped Raymun angrily. "I only meant—" His cousin cut him off. 

"Who else fights with us, Ser Duncan?" Steffon questioned. Dunk spread his hands hopelessly. 

"I know no one else. Well, except for Ser Manfred Dondarrion. He wouldn't even vouch that I was a knight, he'll never risk his life for me." Dunk remarked. 

"Duncan, the princess was speaking your praises." Steffon remarked. "Urged me that you would be out here." 

"She did?" Dunk whispered. 

"Aye." Raymun agreed. 

"THe princess was contradicting her brothers statements, saying how valent you were. How idiotic her brothers are." Steffon remarked. "She said you deserve a fair chance and she would be extremely grateful." DUnk found himself unable to hide his smile, he was lucky for the darkness. 

"Duncan, I am loath to dash your hopes, but..." Raymun cut in. "Even with The princess's sweet words, her brothers are-"

"If your cousin can bring the men he speaks of..." Dunk offered hopefully. "If more men hear Vaera speak-"

"Is it Vaera now?" Steffon questioned with a laugh. "You two must be close then." 

"No, we... I..." Dunk quickly became flustered. Steffon chucked. 

 "THe knights, yes... lets see, Leo Longthorn? The Brute of Bracken? The Laughing Storm?" Steffon offered. Raymun rolled his shoulders back as he rose up. 

 "He knows all of them, I have no doubt, but I would be less certain that any of them know him." Raymun decided. Steffon scowled back at him. "Steffon sees this as a chance for glory, but it means your life. You should find your own men. I'll help." Raymun offered.  "Better you have too many champions than too few." A noise outside made Raymun turn his head, Dunk as well.