A/N: I watch too many historical television shows if I'm being honest lol. Enjoy xx Mariah
Katherine and Ned raced through the forest, quickly putting distance between themselves and the manor. It had not been quick enough, someone had tipped Ned's father off of their escapes and guards had been sent to retrieve them already.
They barely even had time in the chapel before they ran, happily smiling as they were now man and wife. They jumped on their horses and were off again, the curses of the guards behind them fueling their fire.
She knew her way through these woods like a hunter and quickly led Ned through the best path.
They had to keep ahead. This couldn't let this be a waste, they couldn't be captured.
She led Ned around a bend and then another, until they came to a clearing at the edge of a cliff.
"We're trapped. There's no other way around," Ned muttered.
"No," Katherine jumped from her horse and retrieved her satchel, making sure it was tied shut and around her securely. "We'll be fine."
"We can find another way around the guards," he said.
"Not in time," she gasped. "They'll intercept us, but I have an idea, and I know you won't like it." He jumped from his horse and met her with a confused look. "Grab your bag and secure it as I have."
"Why on earth would I do that?" He asked, but did as she had told him.
"Because if not we'll be captured and dragged back to the manor," she replied. "And neither of us want that."
He met her with a kiss and then smiled at her.
"What's your plan?" He whispered. "But think, even if they were to bring us back... we are man and wife before God himself. There is nothing they could do."
"We are," she gasped, remembering the vows they'd said just an hour before. "We are very much husband and wife. Now can you swim?" She asked, double checking her satchel again.
"Yes," he replied. "But why?"
"This is the only way out," she suggested toward the cliff with the lake below and he looked at her.
"Are you mad?" He muttered softly.
"We can do this," she smiled at him. "It's the only way."
They could hear the pounding feet of the guards and she held her hand out for him.
He looked at her and shook his head, but took her hand anyway. They jumped off the ground and soon hit the water.
It wasn't cold, and he thanked Jesus himself for that as she swam across to the other side, hearing the curses of the guards above.
Charles was not going to be happy.
Back at the manor, Charles and Delia anxiously awaited news.
It had been almost a week since Ned and Katherine had been spotted at the cliff and not a trace had been found again.
The guards entered the room and Charles stood.
"Anything?" Charles shouted.
"Not sir," the guard answered. "We've checked every outbound ship from Dunkirk to Barfleur, my Lord. They must still be in France somewhere."
"They didn't just disappear!" He slammed his fist down upon the table and overlooked the map. "Ned has many talents, but magic is not one of them. Neither is commitment." He studied the map once more and traced over a town. "Here, search here. Now go."
The guards left without another word and he turned to face his wife.
"We'll find them," he reassured her. "I'll find our son and that stupid girl that he's so strung for."
"It's been nearly a week, Charles." Delia said advancing toward him. "We'll never find them. They are long gone."
"I cannot just give up," he muttered. "We have to find him."
"Stop worrying so much, it will only make your head hurt worse." She muttered. "Come, you need rest. We both do. Clear heads will lead to better decisions."
"Fine," he sighed. "But only because you asked nicely."
"Yes, that's the reason you're coming to bed." She smiled.
"That's all that I will admit to dear." He whispered against her ear.
Ned dragged her from the river. It couldn't have been easy – it hadn't been easy – and she knew it, for she could not have dragged herself out. Her skirts were soaked through and heavy, and the current wanted to take her and keep her – like Charles did.
Ned, however seemed to want nothing more from her than what she wanted to give, smiled at her when she staggered to her feet. It was a good smile, she thought, sad enough to be real.
"That wasn't so bad," he said.
"You and I have different standards, I think," she replied.
She panted, water dripping from her fingers, her hair, her nose. The drops left little abstract patterns at the edge of her skirts' spreading pool of water.
His smile faded a little, and he said, "Probably."
When she stumbled over her hem he caught and kept hold. It was not a courtier's grip, though she knew he knew what a courtier's grip should be, and it was not the same grab when he wanted her attention. He supported her when she fell and held on after, grip light, almost resting there like he did not want to stop touching her.
His hand was warm. She was cold. She let him pull her closer and rested her head upon his chest. He held her close and even with the fear of being captured, he enjoyed the moment a little longer than he should have. Her skin was cold to the touch and she shivered against him, even if the water had been that cold. The shock had still done its jog.
"We have to get moving," she admitted.
"Indeed," he smiled. "I know somewhere near here that my father would never send someone."
"Okay," she gasped. "Let's go then."
Katherine and Ned were somewhere near St-Malo when they finally stopped for a night's rest. She knew they were at the port because of the magnificent reflections of the moon on the ocean waves.
"This is the first time I've seen the sea," she admitted to Ned quietly.
"I'm glad I could be the person to show it to you," he whispered into her ear. "Stay here. I'm just going to find some information."
She felt his lips linger discreetly on her cheek before he pulled away to speak with a man about finding a good night's sleep. There were soft words and the exchange of a head nod before Ned returned to her side with a smile.
"Enjoying the view?" He asked, moving to her side and letting his hand linger on her waist, rubbing softly.
"I am," she smiled. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes," he said. "Follow me, my beautiful bride."
She tucked herself into him and let him guide her to wherever he needed to. When they reached an inn, one of the innkeepers was all solicitousness.
"Some soup and a warm bed will fix you up right, miss," the man told Katherine sympathetically as his wife eyed Ned askance.
"One room for tonight and tomorrow," he said, smiling at the couple. "My wife and I, we were just married this afternoon." Their smiles grew in response; how did he do that? "I've done a poor job with keeping her safe so far."
They rushed to assure him that anyone could be attacked by bandits, all belongings stolen, and escape with only their lives and what they carried on their persons.
"Even the Queen herself, it is said," the man informed them.
"Indeed," Katherine said.
Ned glanced at her. Whatever he saw made him leave the innkeepers to discuss highway robbery between them and usher her upstairs. He waited at the door for her to look around. A bed. A table. A small window. Nothing very fine, but she would be warm under the covers.
"They said the bathwater should be up in a bit," he said.
The water must have been heating before they arrived, for the innkeepers hauled the tub and several buckets of still steaming water into the room before conversation could resume. Ned watched them the whole time, hand on his dagger hilt in a way he probably did not notice.
The innkeepers noticed.
She tried to smile at them as he had earlier, to soothe the sting of their previously amiable guest's sudden too alert stance. They left in a rush despite her smile: she was forced to conclude that she simply did not have a way with people. Children always liked her, though.
Perhaps they sensed in her a similar frustration to their own, for no one took children seriously either.
"I don't think the Innkeeper believed our story," she admitted as she went to the door and bolted it.
"That we were attacked by bandits?" He asked, crouching down to put some wood on the still-warm coals.
"Honest people don't ride through the woods," she said going over to bolt each window and secure the curtains over them.
"Honest, foolish people do." He muttered.
"Do you think that we are foolish for running?" She asked, moving over to be closer to him. "I'd like an honest answer."
"Nothing is foolish about being in love with you and wanting to get out of the manor," he whispered, tending to the fire as her hand lingered on his shoulder. "I'd been meaning to leave for years." He stood and faced her with a smile, cupping her cheek as he said the next thing on his mind. "You finally gave me a real reason to leave and I am forever in debt to you."
"Well then," she said, reaching around her back for her laces. "I'll just-"
"Yes," he said and turned out of the respect he had for her. "If you need any help, just let me know."
She realized there was no getting the knots undone. She realized it quickly: her nails could not find the spaces between the laces. Had the servant earlier tied them too tightly? She stared at the steaming water, arms twisted behind her, fumbling for the knots. She could sleep in her clothing, she was sure, but she couldn't bathe in it, and if it took her so long that her bath water was cold when she climbed in she was going to cry.
Now was not the time for tears of frustration – those could come later. Now was the time for solutions. She let her arms, which were beginning to ache, fall to her sides and strode to Ned.
"Ned? I would appreciate some assistance." She called to him and he turned around before she finished her sentence.
"What's wrong?" He had since stripped off his jacket and gear. His shirt fell open at the neck and was not as thick as it might have been.
She had seen men in their shirtsleeves before. Plenty. Lots.
She just couldn't remember any of the others right now. Not one as handsome or dashing as her husband.
"Umm," she said, waning confidence waning even further.
"Are you well?" he asked, stepping closer.
"Yes," she smiled. "It's just... seeing you like this, my husband without a shirt."
"Oh," he blushed. "So what seems to be the problem?"
She blinked. And blinked was this seeming to be more difficult then it had been in the past?
He'd seen her naked before and undid her laces countless times, but what was different about this time?
"I cannot untie my laces," she said.
"Ah," he said.
She knew her lips were pressed together in a line, corners turned down, jaw set.
Cheer, Katherine, the nuns would have said. Good cheer and unflappability – the marks of good breeding. But Ned would have been a massive hypocrite to care about good breeding, and he had never minded her at worst.
"Oh," he said, and came closer. "They are swollen from the water."
"Would you," she began, and stopped
She was about to ask him to help her undress.
He was her husband now, that was no long frowned upon. Right?
"Would you help me, please?" she asked again.
She turned her back, pulling her still damp, stringy hair forward over her shoulder. The sound of his footsteps stopped. Instead she could hear him breathing – quick, shallow. As if it was difficult.
"Katherine," he said on one of those quick breaths, a short, bitten off sound wound so tight she knew something was about to break.
"Yes," she said.
Asked? She wasn't sure. Her voice might have cracked in the middle.
He stepped forward again.
"If I do this, I might not be able to stop." He gasped.
She felt his breath on the back of her neck: goosebumps rose. She was suddenly and inexplicably aware of every hair on her head, aware of the tug when she twisted the ends of her hair around her fingers. She wanted his hands in her hair. She wanted – she wanted something she didn't have a name for, something dark and warm, something that felt too good to be right, maybe.
Her toes tingled, her fingers, her feet – Touch me, she almost said. Please, anywhere, this is unbearable – but she didn't, and he didn't.
His hands were sure on the laces, firm, but he could have stopped when the knots were undone. She could have told him to stop when the knots were undone – she should have had him stop when the knots were undone. But he didn't, and she didn't. She felt her dress loosening in increments, cool air bathing her back but retreating in the face because of his warm breaths. By the time he was on the last row, just past the small of her back, her breath matched his.
The touches he hadn't given burned on the skin of her bare back so badly she shivered.
"Are you cold?" He asked.
"No," she said. "No, I am not too cold anymore."
"Oh. Good." The last laces came free, slithering through their openings, and she caught at her overdress, holding it to her body.
She turned and faced him with a warm smile.
His hands lurched forward and pulled the dress from her hands and let it fall to a heap at her feet.
"You're too beautiful," he gasped, going to cup her bare breasts press kisses to the top of them both.
She stood before him in just her black undergarments and he went to pulled them off too. He grabbed her wet coat and soaked dress in his hands as well while she maneuvered around him.
"I believe we still have a wedding to celebrate," she said as he went to lay her garments out to dry near the fire.
"We do, my dear wife." The words flew from his tongue with a quirky smile that she couldn't help but giggle at.
"And my dear husband, I love you so." She whispered as he went to check on the fire again. "Make sure that will stay lit overnight."
He tended the fire as she stepped into the bath.
"We don't need one of us catching something from the cold," she replied, settling against the side of the copper tub.
The water was no longer hot, but it was warm enough that sinking into it felt… well. Like a warm bath. She was too tired for this.
He opened up the bed, situating the pillows before slipping his shirt off and laying that opposite of her dress.
"I will find us passage in the morning for the day after and all of this will be behind us," he said as he pulled his trousers loose and stepped out of them. "We will be free of all this pressure and pain."
He pulled his boots off and struggled at the last one, yanking it from his foot and pouring out the water.
She laughed as she watched him hang each piece of their clothing before standing before her stark naked.
For long moments, all she could hear were her own small movements in the water, the slight creak of the tub.
"One day," she told him, lifting a hand so she could watch the sheen of water on her skin shimmer in the candlelight, "one day we will be able to ride around like this without running away."
"Won't that be nice," he said, dry tone a direct contrast to the water on her hands.
She snorted – something her mother would disapprove of almost as much as letting Ned watch her bathe.
"I'll worship you, Katherine," he said. "You know it."
She nodded, and held out a hand to him. Drops of water fell, the candlelight reflecting all sorts of light in them until they hit the floor. There, they looked red.
"Worship me, then," she said.
He reached down and pulled her to him, not caring about the water as he moved to the bed, letting her stand on her feet before him.
"You're so warm," he whispered, pulling her to him. "Soft, sensual."
"Yes," she gasped as his hand fell lower and his finger peeked inside her. "oh Ned..."
"So ready for me already, I see." He smiled against her collarbone before reaching for something to dry her off with and then lay her on the bed.
Their skin pressed together as he dragged her lips back to his. She kissed him like she was trying to inhale him; he kissed her like he wanted to sew his soul to hers. His hand rested on her back, palm flat and fingers spread, and she felt like it nearly encompassed all of her skin as she settled into his lap, where she could feel just how much he was longing for her, warm and thick against the inside of her thigh.
With that in mind, she slid a hand down his chest, her destination clear, but he caught her hand and broke the kiss, wasting no time to press his lips to her jawline, and then her neck.
"Let me," he breathed, his sentence trailing off in favor of mouthing the juncture of her neck, his teeth barely leaving a graze.
His hand still encircled her wrist as he made his way down farther and farther, until his lips were on her breast and she was nearly bending backwards to give him room to work with, her chest heaving and his tongue laving water droplets from her nipple. Soft noises spilled from her throat, mewling gasps of whispers as her fingernails scraped the back of his neck gently, her head falling forward towards the top of his. But Ned, the man on a mission that he was, took very little notice of her reactions, just noting that they were positive before latching on to her nipple, sucking until a higher pitched gasp reached his ears. Adding teeth gently and in small increments, he bit down lightly on her skin, tugging and glancing up to make sure she was alright.
Her brow was creased and her nails scraped harder, finding his hair and pulling lightly. He took that as a good sign, soothing her skin with his tongue before crossing to the other side of her chest, repeating the process with her other breast. One hand slid up her side to palm the neglected breast, and Katherine's head nearly flung backwards at the sensation overload.
It was different than the times before, she noted with a shuddering gasp as his thumb grazed her sensitive nipple and he leaned up to give himself better access to her skin. Not bad. Not necessarily better. Just...different. Less rushed, more love if that was even possible.
They were husband and wife now, there was nothing to truly worry about with these encounters. If she were to fall pregnant, then so be it.
He was gentler, and he touched her with something akin to reverence. His free hand slid down her back and grazed the top of her thigh as his lips moved back upward. Seizing opportunity, she ducked her head once more to kiss him, opening her mouth almost immediately to coax his tongue to slide along hers. Her hands tangled in his hair once more, grabbing at the short strands and feeling them slide through her fingers. His thumb brushed the inside of her thigh once, twice, and then suddenly his hand was twisting, the tips of his fingers grazing her center, and she moaned into his mouth, startled.
His name was half formed on her lips, but with his mouth on hers and his thumb parting her, she couldn't do much more than sigh against his lips. Her hips jerked forward, but his other hand flew to her hip, bracketing skin and bones and holding her in place.
"Wait," he whispered against her lips, the word muffled and drawing a smile out of both of them.
"Sorry? Didn't catch that," she teased, moving to kiss his cheek, then his jawline, and then the space where his pulse beat rapidly against his skin.
He made her bold; much bolder than she would have been anywhere but in a court full of people waiting to see her fail. Katherine was anything but weak willed, but something about Ned stoked that fire inside of her that was raging and ready to do any and everything she wanted. He made her feel like she could take the world by storm, even if that world was just her husband above her with that smug grin on his face.
"Wait," he repeated, his voice strained but full of its usual cheek, and before she could answer, he was plunging a finger inside of her and any hope at a snappy remark was lost for the moment.
A strangled sound left her mouth, and she moaned against the side of his neck, and she could practically feel him smirking as his finger slowly started to slide in and out of her.
"Bastard," she murmured, half laughing, half moaning.
She could feel his laughter like rumbling in his chest, and she bit down on his skin in retaliation, delighting in the sudden groan he gave in response, his hand twisting between her legs. His thumb started fumbling around then, pressing at random spots in her skin, and she nearly asked him what he was doing when suddenly his nail grazed against a particularly sensitive spot. Heat flared through her body, starting right at where his finger was, and that was when she let out the loudest moan yet, her eyes wide and her nails digging into his skin.
"There it is," she heard him say, his voice clearly proud, and if his thumb wasn't circling over her center, she would have laughed again.
As it was, all she could do was gasp in an effort to maintain enough oxygen as he suddenly added another finger, her hips rocking gently and softly against his hand. One hand flew to his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin, and he hissed softly, but turned to press his lips to the inside of her wrist, mouthing her skin.
"Ned," she managed, her brow furrowed with concentration as she moved her hips, struggling to follow his rhythm.
He looked up, watching her face for a moment, and Katherine opened her eyes, finding his in the warm light of the fire. The look in his eyes brought tears to hers, stinging the corners of her vision. No one had ever looked at her that way before, and for a moment, she felt more beautiful than she ever had in her life.
His name fell from her lips like a prayer, and she shifted her hips again, rolling them so that he was knuckle deep inside her and her breathing was shallow at best. He pressed his thumb against her again, nearly rough enough to send her surging back up to meet his lips.
She whispered something against his lips it might have been a plea, it might have been a prayer, it might have been a curse. Neither one of them could be too sure, but he seemed to understand her half formed words, sliding his fingers from inside her and making her groan softly with the sudden feeling of emptiness.
She whined against his teeth, her tongue pressing against his and her chest molding to his body. His hand never left her hip as she felt him maneuvering the two of them, and suddenly she could feel him pressing against her, his lips pulling from hers and his hand leaving her hip to touch her cheek. His skin was coated with water, and she shivered as it touched her dry skin, but she looked down at him all the same, her gaze refusing to waver.
"I love you," he whispered softly, his thumb finding her cheekbone and brushing her skin slowly. "I cannot believe you're finally my wife."
"Yes," she assured him, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm your wife and you are my husband."
She could feel his sighing breath on her collarbone before she kissed his lips lightly.
"I want this," she met his eyes seriously. "I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you. Consequences be damned, I think we both know that by now."
"Yes," he laughed, lying her back once more and pressing a kiss to her lips as he pressed against her again.
He was pushing inside her, and she was gasping out and grabbing at any exposed inch of his skin she could reach, scrabbling for purchase and leverage.
"Katherine," he murmured against her lips, pulling away just enough to give them room to look at one another.
She wondered if he saw some sort of change in her eyes. She didn't see one in his; he was still staring at her like she was personally responsible for the position of the moon and the stars in the sky. His awe and love were so strong that it nearly blinded her, she could barely stand to look at it, and she buried her head in his neck suddenly, a strangled combination of a moan and a sob leaving her. His hand pressed against her back, holding her to him as she fought not to weep for all she'd lost and all she'd gained in the time she'd been with him.
Life had a funny way of doing that: taking away something you thought you wanted and giving you something else in return. Something you never thought was meant for you. Something you never dreamed you'd be worthy of having.
He was too good for her, too kind and too gentle and too caring. She realized then that she'd never been built to be a lord's wife. She wasn't supposed to love this royal boy, but what else could she do? She nodded against his neck then, acceptance flooding through her veins as she lifted her head to kiss him once more, barely holding the motion before resting her forehead against his and lifting her hips on her own.
The movement was clumsy, and she came up too hard on her upward thrust. He groaned softly and she laughed through her moan, her cheeks burning.
"Sorry," she whispered, kissing his cheeks in apology.
He smiled slightly, kissing her on the tip of her nose and nipping it with his teeth.
"You've nothing to be sorry for," he told her seriously, his hands finding her hips to help her find the rhythm. "We'll learn how to be better for each other, in time. In the lifetime we will have together."
She loved him for that, for the hope and optimism he always had about them.
She moved her hips carefully, letting him take the lead as her breathing got heavier and heavier, heat pooling between her legs with each slow and careful thrust shared between the two of them.
"Faster?" She gasped, the word more question than anything else, and he nodded, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched with concentration.
His grip tightened on her skin and both of them started to move faster. It threw off their motion for a moment, and she would have laughed again if he didn't suddenly bottom out in her, catching her off guard.
"Oh that was rather nice," she moaned, her hips jerking forward again, and his hand was suddenly between her legs again, fumbling around for her center.
Once he found it, it was all over from there. The sensations were too much for her, her hips jerking against his hand and his length, her body tensing and shaking as it chased its release. She felt like she might fall apart. It was too much, too much sensation and too much heat and too much weight on her heart for her to handle, and just when she was about to beg him to stop, she came hard around him.
She could feel her release in her whole body, and when she finished she nearly sagged against him. He started to pull out from her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"It's okay," she reassured him, rocking her hips forward again, though the overly sensitive skin cried out in protest in the process.
Any other time, Ned would have argued, but he was too far gone to do anything but thrust into her once, twice, four more times, and then moan her name into her hair as he let go. She could feel the heat inside her, and she shivered, moaning quietly at the odd sensation and then finally allowing herself to collapse against him, her limbs tired and shaky and her heart craving intimacy.
His fingers curled against her skin, gathering her close to him, and when they exhaled, both had shaky breath.
They laid there for what felt like ages, breathing in and out against each other, neither one saying anything. Until she shifted, hissing and rousing Ned to stare at her.
"My leg is cramping," she said sheepishly, and he blinked at her for a second before bursting into laughter. His head pressed into her shoulder as he laughed, and she slapped the flat of her palm lightly against his chest. "It's not funny!" She protested, but she was laughing too. Whether it was at the absurdity of the situation or the sound of his laughter was anyone's guess. "Are you just going to laugh at me or are you going to help me get comfortable in this damn bed?"
"I rather enjoy laughing at you," he chuckled, his fingertips coming up to brush her cheekbone. "You turn the most lovely shade of red when you find yourself embarrassed." She ducked her head, but when he kissed her temple she leaned into the touch of his lips. "Alright, alright," he sighed, wrapping his hands around her middle and kissing her before pulling himself from her and lying beside her. "Better?"
"Yes," she smiled. "Thank you."
"Think you can handle lying closer to me or will that turn you on, my dear?" He grinned sheepishly.
"I'll make you sleep on the floor," she threatened, as she laid her head carefully on his chest.
She was certain she looked awful; her hair was more tangled than it had ever been, and her lips were surely swollen from all the kissing. There were likely red scratches on her neck from his stubble, but she was oddly enough anything but self conscious.
"You wouldn't dare," he drawled. "I am an excellent mate," he informed her grandly, and she giggled. "You wouldn't dare let me sleep on the floor and deprive yourself the...the..."
"Privilege?" She asked with a grin as he struggled to find the right word.
"Well, I would have said pleasure," he retorted, and she laughed again. He lifted her chin quickly before she could object, and kissed her soundly on the lips, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "I love you," he told her suddenly, seriously, and she blinked at him.
They both knew that, of course, but having the words in open air always made her shrink back from the weight of them. He, however, never let her, and kept a steady grip on her.
"We will be happy one day," he told her gently, brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes.
"We are happy," she replied quickly. "I think the proper term is normal. We will be normal one day, no longer running from guards or anything."
"Yes, just simple normal folk with a family one day." He kissed her nose and tucked the blanket around her a bit more.
After a long beat of silence, he smiled at her, and she was grateful for the lack of pain in his eyes.
"There, now. You wouldn't make a man who loves you sleep on the floor, would you?" He asked.
"No," she finally admitted, smiling in spite of herself, "I suppose I wouldn't."
