State of Grace / Ned Stark

17. Wrapped in Bliss

"This is nice." Ned remarked as Grace pushed open her chamber door. "It's on the opposite side of the castle from the king." 

"I like my privacy." Grace agreed. "And to be far away from Robert. Tyrion's chambers are close, the children as well, TOmmen, Myrcella and JOffrey that is. Cersei's and Jaimes are down a bit but Tyrion is usually at whore houses at night and Jaime has watch most nights... kids have bedtimes and I'm... pretty sure this room is soundproof." She added. "Want to test it?" 

"I wanted to talk." Ned corrected. 

"That can be testing sound proof... ness." Grace offered feeling defeated. 

"I do, trust me, Grace I want to." Ned agreed. "But I just... things have been strife between us."

"I noticed that too." Grace assured. 

"And I dont know why."

"We were traveling and its harder to have a secret romance when you are surrounded by knights and guards and sleeping under the stars." Grace offered. 

"I suppose." Ned agreed. "I like you but clearly this... thing we have isnt..."

"Morally right and decent because you are married and I am not your wife? Yeah I know and dont care but you clearly do." Grace realized. "So I will make it easy for you Ned. I won't tell anyone, I wont ruin your marriage, I won't hold anything over you, I dont expect anything." 

"Thats not what-"

"We had fun in winterfell and that was it, thats all it had to be, a bit of fun. Now the work begins and you are ready to put flings behind you. I get it." Grace assured but there was a bitterness to her voice. 

"Grace-"

"I am suddenly really tired, long journey, you should go." Grace walked to the door pulling it open, her foot tapping impatiently.

"Grace thats not what I meant." Neds hand covered hers on the door and he gently closed it again. "I just dont want you getting hurt. I know a womans reputation is more fragile than a mans, and this is your home. I dont want to-"

"You still want me?" Grace questioned. 

"I still want you, I havent been able to stop thinking about your lips, your eyes, your laugh since the last time I held you." Ned declared. 

"Good because I was lying and I would not be okay with this being over." Grace agreed. 

Ned's lips skimmed across Graces skin as they made their way to her mouth. The kisses were slow and intentional. He was taking his time, they had all the time in the world, exploring her mouth and the explosion of feelings surging between them. Her hands travel up to his neck, fingers trilled the base of his neck pulling him closer. That touch deepened the kiss. As things progressed, he lifted her and walked her back to the bed, which was expected yet still exciting. Grace wrapped her legs around his waist.

She pulled at his shirt as her legs dropped to the floor, he fussed with his belt before taking her dress and impatient for a taste he ripped her dress, the sound of the material ripping filled the room as the tattered material fell to the floor. 

She liked that rush of him needing to be one her, feel her skin that removing clothing properly was a waste of time. Without a moments hesitation his lips were back on her.

+

Ned woke up wrapped in bliss, wrapped in Grace. Arya woke up late for her lessons already. 

"You are late, boy. Tomorrow you will be here at midday." Syrio Forel declared.

"Who are you?" Arya questioned.

"Your dancing master, Syrio Forel." Syrio threw a wooden sword to Arya, she did not catch it, but dropped it. "Tomorrow you will catch it. Now pick it up. That is not the way, boy. This is not a great sword that is needing two hands to swing it." Syrio declared.

"It's too heavy." Arya corrected.

"It is heavy as it needs to be to make you strong. Just so. One hand is all that is needed. Now you are standing all wrong. Turn your body side-face. So. You are skinny. That is good. The target is smaller. Now the grip... Let me see. The grip must be delicate." Syrio corrected.

"What if I drop it?" Arya countered.

" The steel must be part of your arm. Can you drop part of your arm? No. Nine years Syrio Forel was first sword to the Sealord of Braavos. He knows these things. You must listen to me, boy." Syrio demanded.

"I'm a girl." Arya declared.

" Boy, girl... You are a sword, that is all. That is the grip. You are not holding a battle-axe. You are holding..." Syrio corrected indifferent.

"A needle." Arya declared confidently.

"Ahhh... Just so. Now we will begin the dance. Remember, child, this is not the dance of the Westeros we are learning... The knight's dance, hacking and hammering. This is the Bravo's dance... The water dance. It is swift and sudden. All men are made of water, do you know this? If you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die. Now you will try to strike me."

+

"This is for the King from Lord Stark." Jory remarked.

"Listen. Do you hear them? How many do you think are in there with him? Guess." Jaime mused as the king was inside whoring, Jaime's least favorite part of his job, babysitting the king. Jory hesitated hearing the laughter and grunts from inside.

"Three? Four?"

" He likes to do this when I'm on duty... He makes me listen as he insults my sister." Jaime remarked.

"Forgive me, my Lord..."

"Why do I have to forgive you? Have you wronged me?" Jaime countered.

"We've met before, you know." Jory remarked.

"Have we? Strange, I've forgotten." Jaime countered.

"The siege of Pyke. We fought side by side one afternoon." Jory reminded him and Jaime looked him over again.

"That's where you got your scar?" Jaime pondered.

" Aye. One of the Greyjoys nearly took my eye." Jory agreed.

"Vicious sons of whores." Jaime agreed.

"They like their bloodshed." Jory agreed softly.

" They stopped liking it at the end. That was a proper battle. D'you remember Thoros of Myr charging through the breach?" Jaime recalled.

"With his burning sword? I'll remember that till the day I die." Jory agreed.

"I saw the youngest of the Greyjoy lads at Winterfell. It was like seeing a shark on a mountaintop." Jaime remarked.

"Theon? He's a good lad."

"I doubt it." Jaime corrected. 

"Jaime, Tyrion just wrote he is on his way home." Grace remarked. 

"I'll bet you smell of blackberry jam! Let me smell it. Come here." Robert declared from inside and Jaime rolled his eyes as Robert was surely beard deep in a whore.

"Gross." Grace declared. "You want to read it?" Jaime pulled his little sister to him. She held it up as he kissed her cheek. 

"Can I leave this with you? The message from Lord Stark." Jory questioned holding out the scroll.

"I don't serve Lord Stark." Jaime corrected. 

"I will take it." Grace offered snatching it from him. "YOu can let Ned know its safe with me." 

"Thank you my lady." 

"You can also let him know I'm nosey and will read it." Grace added and Jory hesitated. "I'm kidding, I dont care about council meeting shit for Robert."

"Thank you, my lady."