Hypnos
L'Empereur
Guy
If the sudden arrival of his wife hadn’t roused him to wakefulness, Guy might have dozed off in that chair, a contented smile resting upon his lips as his eyelids grew heavy, watching through an opened window the ships that slowly made their way into harbour, docking in the bay below.
That was how he spent many of his days: watching ships, guessing from where they had hailed, and what exciting cargo they held. Whether their captain was some great Merchant Prince, or a disgraced Pirate Lord, forced to dock by the harsh winds of a storm. Guy wasn’t very navally inclined himself, for he had only boarded a vessel once in his life, when he was a youth, and his uncle Arthur had tried to teach him how to fish. He’d found himself vomiting profusely before they even reached a mile off shore, and had never quite found his sealegs, but he liked to watch the ships nonetheless.
Afterwards, he would sleep.
Other men might have duties to attend to, or jobs that needed carrying out during the day, but Guy often found his scheduled appointments rather sparse. Occasionally, his wife might send him on a quest to fetch her a book from the otherside of the castle, or pick her some flowers from the garden near the Godswood (which was the furthest from their chambers, though Rhaenyra insisted that it’s flowers smelled the sweetest), but other than that, when he was not in the company of his wife or his mother, Guy had plenty of time to himself. Time for his ships, his tarts and his sleep.
As Rhaenyra entered the room, Guy let out a smile, sitting straighter in his chair as he turned his head to greet his wife, mouth still coated in a subtle layer of sugar, from the tarts he had eaten earlier. He was hopeful that she wouldn’t notice.
‘You don’t have to be sorry. I know you needed space.’ Rhae-Rhae was delicate, Guy knew that very well, and her father’s death must have been particularly hard for her. He did not resent her the time that she had spent grieving the death of a loved one. That’s what a husband was for, to love and support his wife. ‘I’m sorry that I haven’t been more supportive in your time of grief.’ Perhaps he should have made himself more available. Rhae-Rhae had always been there for him.
As she spoke, his wife moved closer, until he could feel her breath upon him, lowering herself down unto his lap, arms wrapped around him in loving embrace. ‘I know your father meant a lot to you. You’ve been so strong.’ His words caused Rhaenyra’s nails to dig deep into his back, though he knew that it was only part of her process of grief. His own arms wrapped around her, rubbing her gently upon the back.
‘Rhae-Rhae. There’s no one, I mean no one, that would make a better Queen than you.’ There was an ernest quality to his voice. Not a single hint of deceit. ‘You’re loving. You’re strong. You’re the best wife that a man could ask for, and the people of Westeros would be lucky to call you their sovereign.’
As her eyes bore into him, Guy knew that something was amiss. ‘Why do you ask? What’s wrong?’
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Suck it TheFool