Simple Servant - Game of Thrones

Chapter Three

(297 AC)

Highgarden.

Nolan.

"Why do I have powder on my face?"

Elinor pulled the cotton away from his face, tilted her head and chewed her lip, then tutted and licked her thumb before wiping the edge of his brow. "I'm making you beautiful," she told him. "Now sit still and let me work my magic."

Nolan raised a brow, the one she'd cleaned. "Wasn't I already beautiful?"

She made a face at him. "More beautiful, then."

"Mhm," he hummed. "Won't you worry if I'm any more gorgeous that I just might catch the fancy of Lady Margaery? I see how she watches us from behind that veil of hers. Why does she wear it, anyway? Seems a shame to hide her face; I hear she's rather pretty."

"She's shy," Elinor explained. "She always has been. Stop squirming!" He pouted and sat still only when she glared at him. "And... there. Oh, you're so pretty, Nolan." Nolan rolled his eyes and giggled before kissing him quickly. "For the record, Marge already fancies you."

"Lucky me," Nolan said, but he didn't care; he already had Elinor. "Are you going to give me just the one?" His love smiled and kissed him again. "One more?" She shoved him, and he laughed as he fell back in the shade of their apple tree. It had grown strong and beautiful, its apples the sweetest in the realm, and it was all theirs.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked at her. The pretty girl that Dawn had knocked over in the stables all those years ago had grown into a beautiful woman with thick, curling brown hair that fell in ringlets and framed her pale face. Her eyes were a brown so rich you could drown in them, and Nolan had. Her green gown had vines sewn into the fabric. It clung to her slender figure, the tight bodice bearing her shoulders and the top of her small breasts.

No woman in the Known World was more beautiful than his Elinor; Nolan was beyond convincing otherwise. "Would you stop leering at me already?" She asked, but the lopsided grin on her lips proved that she liked his leering very much.

The squeal she let out when he pulled her into his lap made the birds in their tree take to the skies. "I could gaze upon your beauty for all of eternity and never grow weary of it," Nolan swore, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her neck and shoulders. Elinor sighed and reached back, weaving her fingers through his dark hair. "How was that one?"

"I've heard it before," she told him. He kissed her cheek. "Just because you say it differently doesn't mean it isn't the same thing being said. You should be more creative, my love."

"I could simply look into your eyes," he told her, his hand moving up her front to tilt her head and make her look at him, "and you can tell me what mine are saying."

Elinor searched his eyes, her smile growing wider every second. "You're hungry?"

"Starved," he replied.

She laughed, then kissed him. Nolan wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled into it when she let out a contented hum. It wasn't a heated kiss — there was no tongue involved — but it conveyed his love for her and hers for him, and that was enough. They stayed that way for a while before separating and watching the sunset over Highgarden's three great walls and rose-covered keep, as they had a thousand times before.

"We should start back," he said after a while.

Elinor wiggled back into his lap. "I'd rather we didn't."

"Your mother will worry," he warned. "And your father."

"Let them worry," she said. "I'd sooner stay with you."