As I stood in the quiet of my chamber, contemplating this unknown side of my husband, couldn't shake the feeling that Gastoh's return would bring with it not just answers,but even more questions.
The air in the castle seemed so shift the moment the news reached my ears. Gastoh was back, victorious in war. My heart raced as I followed Nancy down the long corridors, her steps quick and urgent . I couldn't wait to see him , to see the man I had married and been apart from for so long.
When I reached the throne room, my eyes immediately sought him out. There he was ,Gastoh, standing before the king , receiving his father's blessing. His dark hair ,now longer and wild , cascaded down to his shoulders, his beard had thickened, adding to the ruggedness of his features, but it was his ocean blue eyes that drew me in , as intense as ever . Filled with stories of war and Victories. His skin ,kissed by the sun of the battlefields, only seemed to make his eyes stand out even more.
It was a strange feeling, watching him from a distance, knowing this man was my husband, yet feeling like a stranger to him. But I couldn't help but admire him, despite the mysteries that surrounded him , he was different now , transformed by the war , and I wondered how he had changed , if at all.
As Gastoh finished his exchange with the king , the rooms attention turned to me. The tradition was clear. Upon a soldier's return from war , a wife , mother ,or sister would be the one to clean him, to help him shed the weariness of the war . Since I were his wife ,the task fell to me.
As I walked behind him, my heart pounded in my chest . I had no idea how to approach this , how to care for him after everything that had passed. The silence between us both was almost palpable as I entered the chamber. I could hear the sound of his footsteps as he undressed, a stark reminder of the intimacy of this moment.
When he slipped into the warm bath , I stood at the entrance of the bathroom . Unsure of what to do next. My thoughts raced , my face flushed with sudden closeness to him. I were no longer the innocent girl who had been married off for political gain. No , I were now the wife of man whose past was filled with violence, whose presence was both captivating and terrifying.
But in that moment, all I could do was follow the customs, my hands trembling slightly as I prepared to attend to him , as I began to clean him , the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, but a new kind of uncertainty lingered. The man who had been a mystery to me was now before me , stripped of his armor , both literally and figuratively.
And as I helped him , the silence between us both remained, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air.
As I carefully trimmed his long hair , the quiet intensity of the moment grew, the sound of water , the faint movement of his body , and the rhythm of my hands working on him made my heart race in ways I hadn't expected.
Each motion felt surreal, like I were both existing in a space between duty and something unspoken, something deeper.
I could feel the heat rising in my chest as my fingers brushed against his skin , the warmth of the water mixing with the warmth of his body. His presence was overwhelming, his muscle ,his scars, the strength that radiated from him in every way, from the way he sat to the way he silently watched me . The deep sensation inside me stirred , but I couldn't place it, I couldn't understand what it was. I tried to focus on the task , but my hand trembled slightly as I moved over his skin, Washing it carefully.
When he turned toward me , for me to shave his beard, my throat went dry. His physique was nothing short of breathtaking, the scars on his skin told story of battle fought, of pain endured, and of a life that had been Forged in conflict. As I stared at him , I couldn't help but admire the power and beauty in his body .
The silence between us both was thick , charged ,and I found it hard to look away , though I knew I should. It wasn't just about the task I were performing anymore, it about the man I were married to, the stranger I had been drawn to in a whirlwind of fate.
The bath was over , I step outside the bathroom, waiting for him to wear the ropes , and come to the chamber. There he was , he walked close and sat on the chair . I massaged oil into he's scalp and brushed his long straight hair.
As he dressed , the atmosphere between us returned to a cool formality .
"Thank you" he Said.
I watched as he walked out of the chamber , his strong figure moving with confidence of someone accustomed to triumph and command. The faint scent of the oil lingered on my hand , a reminder of the closeness I shared for those brief moment .