Welcome back! I got the order of my chapters mixed up a bit, so here we go with another Maryah-chapter.
Now, let's add a dash of romance!
Disclaimer: I neither own Marvel nor GOT.
Maryah
Brookbridge/Starshield, 280 A.C.
With swinging skirts and a candle in her hand, Maryah briskly walked down the empty corridor, coming to a stop in front of her door, only to stop and realize that she would not be sleeping here tonight. Since she had asked the maids to already make up the bed and clean and dust everything for Natalia's arrival, she was now basically forced to share Steve's bed, which led to a curious mix of feelings in her stomach. She wasn't unwilling, or scared, she was more...nervous? Maybe there would have even been something like a fuzzy feeling in her belly if she wasn't so drained from the conversation with Lady Margaery. Maryah had never expected for this meeting to be easy, but not to escalate like this on the first evening either. With a huff, she turned around on her heel, making her way to Steve's room. She had a key so she could already get in while he was still up drinking with Barnes, she also had the feeling he wanted to give her some kind of privacy to get ready for bed. As she let herself in, she realized how long it was that she had been in this room. It had been a simple and almost empty chamber then, just like hers, but now it felt lived in and personal. While they didn't have the money to spslurge much on personal luxury, they still made sure their keep was comfortable to live in by adding rugs and furs wherever necessary. They might not spend money on exquisite materials such as the other Lannisters, but the effect was quite nice nevertheless, if she were to say so herself.
Maryah walked around the room, lighting two candles next to the sides of the bed and set the one she was holding down on his desk. It stood under the window, but while there were lusually etters and notes scattered over hers, his was full of sketches. She knew that he was artist, of course, there were some of his bigger pieces of work in their study, but she usually only got to see the finished products. These ones here were mostly unfinished, like ideas that had been floating through his mind and never quite visualized. He had drawn mainly nature and portraits, mostly of Bobbi and Carol. Sometimes alone and sometimes together, happy or furious, he had portrayed every aspect of their life in Starshield. The most impressive sketch was what she recognized as a self-portrait of himself together with his sister. It was coloured with some kind of pigment Maryah didn't know and the sun seemed to practically gleam on the golden hair. Maria couldn't help herself, she moved the drawings around a bit, discovering a sketch of Natalia Stark and Ned Stark, with the Stark wolf in the background. Even if she hadn't known him as a person, Maryah would have known the artist liked the two northerners - especially the woman - from the careful way he had drawn their faces. She seemed to glance out of the picture, straight at you, seemingly amused about something, while her husband was smiling down at her. It was a definite reversal of the usual composition of portraits, daring and innovative. She wondered whether Steve had drawn it for the young bride herself. There was picture of herself in that pile, though, nothing at all, she realized with some sadness. It seemed that for Steve she didn't exist at all, or at least wasn't worth drawing. This hurt more than she had expected.
With a sigh, she considered closing the curtains now, but the sight of the moon outside was more than pretty, so she left them open. From his window, one could see all over the back of the castle, it was a lot calmer than hers which was situated further at the front of the keep. Suddenly the door behind her creaked, making her turn around quickly. Steve was standing in the door, looking slightly embarassed.
"Uhm, hello. Am I too early? Do you... want me to come back later?"
He sounded unsure, even though this was his room and he had every right to be here. Maryah shook her head, motioning at him to come nearer.
"No no, come in."
As he walked in, the man quietly closed and locked the door behind himself, but instead of coming closer he just leaned against it.
"Are you feeling alright?"
He seemed honestly concerned as he took her in from toe to head, making her feel exposed in the dimm light.
"Drained," she answered truthfully, "but you don't look any better."
He chuckled a bit ruefully.
"It was a long day. But you were fantastic," he said with a small smile, "all the preparations you did - you have outdone yourself."
Pushing away from the door, he finally came closer, taking her hands.
"I think we made the right call with the Tyrells," he said lowly but clearly, "and I loved how you handled the situation."
Maryah swallowed. "Thank you for trusting me."
He smiled, looking straight into her eyes. "Well, after all, you are the smart one."
It seemed as if he wanted to say a lot more, but thought better of it. Instead, he just nodded to himself. When he realised he was still holding her hands, he let go of her, quickly taking a step back.
"The dress is new, isn't it?" he asked, obviously trying to sound casual, "who did you want to impress?"
Maryah was fairly certain he did not expect an answer, or at least she hoped so.
"Lady Margaery certainly wanted to impress you," she answered, "and you were eating it right up."
Was she sounding annoyed? Maybe. But after this day she had every right to be.
"She is a beautiful woman and using this to her advantage. But so is my wife."
He sounded very sure and decided, which surprised her after the discovery at the drawing table. It confused her, since usually her husband did not say things he did not mean. Before she could ponder more about the compliment, however, Steve gave her a lopsided grin and for a moment he looked so much like his cousin that Maryah wondered whether she was married to the wrong Lannister. Then the moment was over, and he was very serious once more.
"Do you need help with your very impressive dress?" he finally asked a bit hesitantly.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but as she considered the offer, Maryah had to admit this was far more practical than calling for a maid. It was also much more...dangerous.
"Yes, if you could just open...these," she motioned towards the lacing at her back.
He stepped behind her, at first he seemed slightly confused about the clasps and knots. After all, he had only done this once with her, and she did not think that there had been many other women besides her. She had never asked about his encounters before her, and she had the assumption he was faithful as a husband - or at least that was what she liked to think. Suddenly the cloth was getting lighter around her midriff. She could feel him carress her shoulders lightly, which was nice but confusing at the same time. As she turned around to ask about it, he seemed to anticipate her question, raising his finger to shut her up.
"Maryah, we are both very much too tired for any kind of deep conversation right now. If you have no absolute objections, I would very much like to share this bed with you and get a good night's rest. Anything else can wait until tomorrow. don't you think?"
Slightly stunned, Maryah nodded, turning slightly away to start to loosen the front clasps of her dress until she could push it over her hips. It pooled around her feet in a dark cloud, leaving her in her chemise, and she gingerly stepped out of it - it was new after all - and picked it up to drape it over the chair in front of the desk. After blowing out the candle on the desk, she walked over to the side of the bed closer to the window, sitting down carefully. She started to undo the braids in her hair, brushing it out with her own brush that one of the maids had left in Steve's room as she valiantly tried not to watch her husband undressing in the other part of the room. She wasn't blind, just as Lady Margaery and most other women of the seven kingdoms she could see that he was attractive. He blew out the candle on his nightstand and scrambled under the covers while she was still rebraiding her hair , laying down on the other side of the bed, facing her. The room was darker now, but due to the moonlight Maryah could still see reasonably well. His bed was very much like hers, sturdy oak, carved by local craftsmen. When she considered her hair presentable, she blew out her candle as well and slid down next to her husband, facing him. It was odd to share a bed and even odder to look at each other.
"You have no reason to be jealous," Steve suddenly said, sounding a bit wistful.
"And I thought you did not want to have any deep conversation," she gave back, but without any real bite.
He huffed, but she could not really make out his face in the darkness.
"I did not want any wrong assumption ... to be between us," he concluded.
"There are no pictures of me," she commented, trying to sound casual.
Steve - that rascal - had the audacity to laugh.
"What's so funny?" she growled, tugging at the blanket.
She felt the bed dip as Steve seemed to shuffle around a bit, pulling at the blanket himself which she deftly pulled back. No way he was letting him steal it! He only laughed lightly again, apparently not really concerned. Then something touched her cheek and she flinched back on instinct, before her mind caught up that he simply had caressed her cheek with his fingertips.
"I am sorry," he muttered, sounding flustered and hurt at the same time.
"No Steve, no," she hurried to reasure him, even though she was still feeling rather grumpy, "you simply surprised me."
After some blind groping she finally found his hand with hers, managing to position it back on her cheek. She smiled involuntarily when she felt his fingers soften against her skin, in return drawing little circles on the back of his hand. It was surprisingly soothing after such a day not to be alone, she noticed with some surprise and contentment.
"You really think I would marry one of the most beautiful women of Westeros and not draw her?" he asked quietly, "maybe your not so smart after all."
Maryah only hummed, some of the sadness slowly flowing away as she drifted off. Her dreams were confusing and vivid, all flashes of colours and sounds that she couldn't quite place. The lady was woken up in the middle of the night by movement close to her, it took her a moment to realize that it was coming from another body close to hers. Her mind was still reeling from the dream and now this?! She must have made a noise of unamusement, since there were sudden vibrations next to her head which could only be described as chuckling.
"What is the matter?" Steve asked lowly, obviously awake.
"You are disturbing me," she complained grumpily, making him laugh harder.
"What's so funny?"
"Maryah, correct me if I am wrong, but I believe you are currently laying on me on my side of the bed. So I would say this is entirely your fault."
His voice was soft and teasing, but Maryah's face was flaming as she noticed her head was indeed laying on as Steve's chest very much on his side of the bed and the movement that had annoyed her had probably been him trying to accomodate her - the intruder. Just as she wanted to roll away, he quickly locked his arms around her, effectively making her stay.
"If you don't mind me breathing, you are very welcome to stay," he offered gently.
Maryah wanted to argue that this wasn't proper, that she was to heavy, that she should move back, but gave in, simply shuffling up to rest her shoulder more comfortably shortly under his, her head tucked under his chin.
"Push me off if I get to heavy," she told him.
He gave a sound which did not sound too convincing, but at the moment she was too comfortable to care.
