Side Story 19.1 - When Harry met Desmera…

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or the world appearing in this story, they are creations and property of the fantastic George R. R. Martin. I’m not sure if I can claim my OCs as my own, so I’ll play it safe and dedicate them to GRRM.

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Author's Note: A warning! While not explicitly adult, this chapter contains scenes that may be considered intimate.

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[Year - 296 AC]

Harry looked on with the most satisfaction he had ever felt in his life as Horas kissed his brother, both blindfolded. Sam, on the other hand, was looking at them with his face red to the core. Harry thought that if he were to remove his clothes, Sam might be red all over.

He motioned for the girls to remove the blindfold. One of them moved to remove it from Hobber, while the other seemed a little scared. It didn’t matter, however. Since one would be enough for them to find out anyways.

The blindfold came off as the girl quickly tugged it and ran off. It took Hobber a moment to notice just who was on the other end of his kiss in the game.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled.

“What– what happened?” Horas asked as he stumbled to remove his blindfold.

“He made us kiss each other!” Hobber explained to his twin frantically.

“What!” Horas joined in on the exclamation.

“I never said it had to be girls,” Harry said coolly.

“You did this on purpose,” Horas yelled as he advanced threateningly.

“Maybe,” Harry admitted.

Walking close, Horas tried to stare threateningly at him.

Which would have worked very well on Sam. In fact, Harry could see him cowering slightly from the side. However, even if he was younger by a year, Harry stood almost as tall as Horas. Adding to it, Harry's build, which had more girth than Horas, there was no question of being threatened at all.

Also, Ser Wendel was standing nearby, which was an added protection.

“What are you going to do about it?” Harry asked as he stepped forward, closing the gap even further.

Horas tried to think of something, while Hobber piped up from the side as if he had figured something out.

“You do it too then!” Hobber said.

“Kiss a boy?” Harry asked.

Hobber nodded with a smirk.

Harry stepped towards Horas, closing their distance even more. Horas nearly sprinted away – with the most curious expression on his face. Harry doubted Horas would have looked that frightened if he had threatened violence against him.

Harry laughed, “Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t kiss your ugly mug for a hundred dragons.”

He turned towards Sam, who got a shade of blue to his already red face at the action.

“No,” Sam said in a disbelieving voice.

Before Sam could scutter away, Harry quickly seized him and kissed him on the lips. As he pulled away, he had to hold himself from laughing at the look of utter horror on Sam’s face.

Turning back to Horas he raised an eye. “What do you think now?”

“You freak!” he said in disgust.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the insult. “Say that again,” he said, enunciating each word as he walked towards the sword he’d set aside at the beginning of the game.

Horas gulped, remembering the beatings he’d been receiving continually at Harry’s hands in ‘spars’ for the past month and a half. But he still seemed to have some courage in him.

“Y– You freak!” he repeated.

Harry sighed. He really did not want to get his hands dirty. Taking the sword in his hands, he slowly walked towards the older boy.

Horas, not willing to wait for it to happen, charged at him with a mad rush and no plan in mind. However, with his advantage in size, it could be dangerous enough.

Unsheathing the sword, Harry extended it forward, but kept the tip facing the ground. The length of the sword made Horas slow down, not being able to close the distance.

Quickly moving away the sword, Harry punched him with his free hand, disorienting him, and then kicked him right in between the legs.

Horas crumpled to the ground as he held his ailing body.

Harry stomped on him. “The only reason Sam is here is because of me,” he spat, “the next time you twats call him a pig or anything other than his name… remember this.”

Horas was beyond talking, so Harry glared at Hobber, who nodded furiously.

With a nod, Harry removed his leg from the boy. Hobber ran to help his brother.

“They might go to Lord Redwyne, Harry!” Sam said as they moved away.

“No they won’t,” Harry said, “they are not boys anymore – they are knights in the making. Awful knights they may be, but running to father is not very knightly.”

He moved to go back to the castle, but stopped suddenly. Turning to the girl holding the blindfold, he smiled. “Kiss my friend, will you? Make him forget me.”

The girl nodded, giving Sam a wink. Sam looked as though he might have preferred another go with him.

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“My brothers aren’t too happy – not happy at all,” he heard her voice from the side as he walked to his room. Harry could already feel his day improving.

“Sneaking out now, are we?” he said as he turned to her. His eyes moved along her red hair before finally fixing on her freckles. “I’m sure I have my men standing at the entrance.”

He had specifically done so to keep those pricks from attempting anything at night. Lord Randyll had asked him about the extra guards and he’d had to divulge about the events of the day. Harry had gotten the rare opportunity of seeing the man being both disapproving and secretly happy at the same time.

“I– er– Ser Wendel helped me…” she admitted.

Harry’s mood turned a little solemn as he replied. “You can’t do this, Des, he’ll start catching on soon.”

“Don’t turn this on me– I’m not too happy with you,” she said, her meek mood turning fierce, “Horas had to visit Ballabar. Father kept asking him for the reason but he kept mum. Hobber told me, however.”

“I don’t know how you act as if you love them, Des–” he started.

“I do love them!” she yelled, swatting at him.

“–but they are fucking twats.”

She glared angrily.

Harry sighed.

“You’ve not seen what they did to Sam,” he said. His demeanour grew more irritated as he thought back to the incident. “I had to plead with Lord Randyll to let him come with. What will I tell him if his son were to be treated like this?”

“They’re my brothers,” she said but she didn’t seem too assured in them herself.

“They are,” Harry admitted as he lightened up, “but they still are fucking twats.”

She sighed, not having anything to say and Harry stepped closer.

“At least Lady Mina gave you all the charm she clearly didn’t give them.”

He raised his hand towards her face and traced over her freckles, but she promptly slapped it away.

“Don’t,” she said with a glare, but he could see her already reddening.

“But I love them,” He said, emphasising on ‘love’, knowing how much it endeared to her.

“Well, I don’t,” she said, crossing her arms to her chest.

“It doesn’t matter–” Harry declared as he stepped closer. She stepped back as she tried to suppress the smile blooming on her face. It was adorable, the way she pressed her lips together to hide her smile.

He took another step forward and she stepped back once again, only to find herself flush with the wall.

“–as long as I like them,” he finished, as he closed the distance and placed his lips on her face.

Starting with her cheek, he kissed her freckles, one by one.

“Mmhm…” she moaned as she tried to turn her head and catch his lips, but he kept avoiding.

Unravelling her hands, she placed them on his chest as she pushed him away. “You prick!” she said as she laughed.

“I know,” he said as he hummed. He kept leaning in and retreating as he kept pecking at her freckles. She groaned at the constant sensation.

“Sam’s already gotten a kiss to forget mine,” he murmured in the lull in between, “who will give me one to forget his…”

She clasped his shirt by the neck, bunching it up in her hands, and leaned on her tiptoes to meet him midway. “Me, you idiot.”

Closing his arms around her waist, he drew her in, and she placed her hands on both sides of his face.

They stayed close for a long while, pecking and kissing long into nightfall.

“It’s getting late, Des,” Harry said after some time.

“Supper’s done with anyways, none will look for us…” she said as she kissed him again.

“What of your handmaidens, did they see you enter your room?” Harry asked, drawing his hand along her face.

Her eyes widened. “No,” she said in trepidation.

“It’s alright, you can sti–” he started as he pulled away, but she buried her face in his chest.

Harry exhaled deeply, but his face had a smile. Running his hand through her fiery hair, he tried to think of something he could do.

“I’ll find you,” he said finally, “go to your room and I’ll find you there.”

“You will?” she said, lifting up her head and giving him an incredulous look.

“If you can charm Ser Wendel into allowing you here, then I can handle a few handmaidens,” He said smugly.

“Alright, Harry,” she said softly as she looked into his eyes. He bent down to kiss her again.

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It had been an hour and Harry was still not here. Despite the wealth of patience she had in her, she was starting to get a little irritated. Just a little.

Desmera had liked him the moment she had seen him.

How could she not? He was tall and handsome and looked more like a knight than any her father had at the castle.

On top of that, he had been so easy to talk to. Desmera couldn’t claim to have talked with a lot of boys, since she hadn’t gotten a lot of opportunities to do so, to begin with. However, the few she had, could only be described as pleasant.

But Harry was fun, not just pleasant. He teased and let her tease him, taking it just as much as he gave. She hadn’t even known that she was capable of teasing before she’d met him.

The first day hadn’t been anything special. If anything it was too awkward.

Harry had been kept busy with her father and Lord Tarly, and she’d been too nervous to do any more than extend her greetings. But on the second day, she got a chance to speak with him.

She’d come down to break her fast, only to find him already sitting at the table. What had surprised her the most, however, was how friendly he was with Samwell.

She remembered Samwell from all those years ago, when his father had brought him to Arbor. Her brothers had humiliated him enough for their fathers to throw away whatever plans they’d had. But the boy himself had been too shy and nervous to even hold proper conversations with. Seeing him now, laughing and enjoying himself with Harry, was truly astonishing.

However, as soon as she arrived, Samwell got more withdrawn.

She had greeted them silently and started with the meal, hoping to finish it quickly and leave. If she had known that there would be people in the hall, she would have avoided the meal altogether.

Harry had had different plans. He kept conversing with her, trying to ask her about Arbor and such. Thinking back to it now, she was sure that he’d only been collecting information about the castle. However, seeing what it had led to, she couldn’t really bring herself to care.

The days after had been some of the best of her life.

Harry was always busy – and, now, as she thought about it – she realised just how busy he was. He was always up and about when she woke up, either practising combat or reading. He was always wandering around the town with Lord Tarly or Samwell, engaged in some task or the other. However, he still made it a point to spend at least an hour with her every day.

Initially, they had just spent time together. She would show him around, he would tell her stories, or they would simply take a walk.

On one particular day, they had been at the beach, sitting by the shore and watching the sunset. Harry had been telling her about how he used to enjoy watching the sunrise by the riverside in Oldtown – before he started his squiring at Horn Hill.

“Shall we watch it together tomorrow?” she’d asked.

He’d gotten the smirk on his face, the one he so loved wearing. “Do you think you'll be able to wake up that early, Des?” he’d asked.

“I can if I want to,” she had replied indignantly.

He had laughed at that, and then glanced at her, causing her to do the same. He lifted his hands to touch her freckles, and it was the first time he had done so. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes.

His hands had gradually moved to the back of her head before long. She had opened her eyes in slight panic, but the look in his eyes had quickly reassured her.

He had pulled her in, and she had obediently followed.

Her first kiss was better than she could have imagined, and everything after that had been even better.

So, yes, she had liked Harry from the moment she saw him, but loving him had taken a little longer.

“What are you thinking,” she heard Harry ask.

She turned so quickly that her neck hurt. It was a miracle that she hadn’t screamed.

"How did you get here?" she asked, trying to infuse her words with irritation, but she could feel it melting away by the second.

“I climbed,” he said, pointing to the window and two daggers. “I hope the grooves aren’t too noticeable during the day.”

She tried to glare as he walked towards her with his smile. He knew she wasn't really angry; she couldn't stay angry at him.

He closed the distance between them and reached for her freckles. Desmera didn't really know what he liked about them. She had always hated them, seeing them as the one thing keeping her away from the perfect skin every maid desired. But he seemed to like them.

Not wanting him to get lost in the freckles, she immediately tiptoed to place her hands around his neck. He chuckled at her action, even as he leaned in to meet her. The kiss felt just as new and exciting as if it were her first one.

Desmera tried to reach upwards, pushing herself to the limit on her toes. Noticing her action, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up. She gasped at the unfamiliar action but didn't spend a lot of time thinking it through as she leaned in yet again.

Soon they were on her bed, and more entangled than they’d ever been. Things were moving forward and she didn’t really want them to stop. She slowly moved her hand downwards even as Harry kept kissing her all over.

“Desmera!” he gasped as he pulled away. “We can’t–”

“Keep going,” she pleaded.

“I can’t promis–” he began once again.

“I know, Harry,” she said. She had known for some time. It was always going to be a very illogical match, after all.

“No– no, you don’t,” Harry pressed. “I can’t promise to marry you, Des. My life will take me to places I don’t even know yet. And I will not dishonour you.”

He moved to get up, and to Desmera, it felt as if it would all end if she were to let him leave.

“I love you,” she said with as much emotion as she could muster.

He stopped to face her, just as he was about to get off the bed. “And I love you, Des.”

"Then just hold me, don't think of what comes tomorrow," she said. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she could see his heart break.

He gazed into her eyes for a moment, his expression a tumultuous mix of emotions. She reached out and took his hand, silently pleading with him. After a few moments, he made up his mind and crawled back to her.

She couldn't contain her excitement and jumped onto him, her mouth finding his in seconds.

It was close to dawn when they stopped. She was exhausted to the point that she could sleep for days on end. As he made a move to leave, she begged him to stay, unable to fathom the idea of letting him go after such an occasion.

If only she had let him leave…

They might have gotten a little more time together.

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