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yourstruly-sephie · 2 years

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐖 𝐡 𝐞 𝐫 𝐞 𝐭 𝐡 𝐞 𝐋 𝐢 𝐥 𝐚 𝐜 𝐬 𝐆 𝐫 𝐨 𝐰

𝟐𝟕𝟖 𝐀𝐂 | 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥

"We better put up camp soon. It looks like it's going to be heavy rain tonight," Jon squinted his eyes, hovering his free hand on his eyebrows to shade his eyes from the sun's bright glare. His other hand held onto the reins of his horse, keeping his pace steady.

Arthur was the spectacle of Jon's inquiry, looking up to the sky to see for himself, "It looks clear to me. Not a single cloud in the sky." He averted his eyes to look at Jon with a quizzical brow.

"You do not know the ever changing weather of the Stormlands like I do. You are but a foreigner on the lands I grew up on," Jon countered, puffing up his chest proudly.

"We are approaching the Dornish Marches," the Kingsguard pointed into the distance, "weather is much more fair than east from here."

"I don't appreciate your input," the redhead held a soured expression. He did not want to admit that Arthur's words did hold its weight. They were inching closer to the Dornish Marches and a day or two away from their destination—Summerhall.

Arthur shooked his head and softly chuckled, "alright, let us make a bet then? A gold dragon?"

Jon's lips twitched into a devilish grin liking Arthur's offer, "Ten gold dragons and bragging rights."

"Deal," Arthur did not hesitate to answer. The two friends extended their dominant hand towards each other and shook on their agreement.

"I hope you have your coin ready because you are buying a barrel of sweet Dornish wine," gloated Jon as he brought his hand back around his horse's reins. He looked off into the distance, imagining his time in the ruined castle drinking the red liquor while he lived his best life. "What about you, Arthur? What would you do with the coin?"

The latter thought for a second. There was not much he could do with ten golden dragons in his disposal. Of course, the amount of coins was a lot but there was not anything at the current moment he needed to purchase. Being a Kingsguard meant that all of his necessities and accommodations were given to him by the Crown, along with a steady pay. Furthermore, he did not indulge himself in materialistic things. "Maybe I'll put the coin in good use by buying you a friend," Arthur amused, laughing freely into the cool air brought by the nearby high mountains.

Jon side-eyed his dark-haired friend. "Laugh all you want right now because you won't be when it starts pouring," he grumbled.

Another pair of quick hooves pounding on the dirt road approached the lord and Kingsguard. "You two sound like you are making this trip more pleasant," Rhaegar said as he fell into sync with his companions' horses.

"We made a bet, ten golden dragons, on whether it is going to rain or not," Arthur filled the Dragon Prince in on the conversation.

Rhaegar hummed, looking up into the sky. "Rain? It hardly rains at Dornish Marches," he concluded.

Arthur stifled another laugh, while Jon was red in the face. "You two are unbelievable," he shook his head in disbelief.

"Where have you been this past hour?" Arthur threw the question towards Rhaegar. He had to lean forward to see his friend on Jon's right.

Rhaegar shrugged. The cool winds pushed his shoulder-length silver-gold hair behind him. He held a neutral expression with a tinge of tiredness around his vibrant eyes. "A rider came to deliver a few messages to the maester. Some were intended for me," he answered.

"Nyrella wrote to you?" Jon piqued up. Arthur, too, was curious. The three of them had not received any ravens or any form of messages from Nyrella in over a month. The last time they heard from her, she was in Highgarden and planned to travel to the Citadel. However, the trio had no clue and it started to worry them.

"Nothing," Rhaegar sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, "written messages were from the Small Council."

"She should have written to you by now," Arthur frowned. He has not seen from Nyrella for over half a year and the only sort of communication they had was through ravens. Yet, even that, she was inconsistent with her replies. He wondered most of his days if she was doing fine in her royal progress.

Jon scoffed, "She should have written to all of us by now," he corrected Arthur. "Sure, she might still be holding a grudge against Rhaegar, but why would she extend her lack of response to us," Jon pointed to himself and Arthur, "At this point I have no idea what is happening in that head of her's."

There was a pause that followed Jon's small rant.

"New acquaintances, I presume," Rhaegar pursed his lips. "The last few letters she sent me, entailed of how she is in the company of a few high born ladies and a few knights."

"You never told us this?" Jon furrowed his eyebrows, giving his fair-haired Prince a confused expression. Arthur nodded in agreement.

Rhaegar blew a breath, rubbing his hand behind his neck, "I did not think much of it. She only mentioned it in passing—barely a sentence."

"You think she found herself a husband?" Jon laughed at his own amusement, but Rhaegar and Arthur did not join him. His laugh quickly died down, feeling embarrassed.

"If she did...she would have written to us," Arthur uttered. He tried to cover the dejection in his voice by giving a small smile to his companions. He felt a ping of sadness strike his chest at the thought of Nyrella. There was nothing wrong with her finding someone during her royal progress, in fact that was why she was sent away in the first place. Yet, he cannot bear knowing that the woman he loves is set to marry someone else other than himself.

Rhaegar and Jon shared a look—a guilty one. "She would," Jon smiled back at Arthur, "let us not give up hope. For what it's worth, she might write to us when we arrive at Summerhall. She has not forgotten about us, especially you, Arthur."

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

Summerhall was hauntingly beautiful with its crumbling stone walls, the streaks of black ashes, and the wildlife that has ever so devoured the castle overtime. The Targaryen summer castle used to be the getaway home for the royal family until the tragic fire on the day Prince Rhaegar was born. The memories of the walls brought a great sense of melancholy to the current Prince of Dragonstone, for he had lost many on the day of his birth. Every year on the fateful day of his name day, the ghosts of Summerhall call to him like a siren's melody.

Rhaegar and his entourage arrived at the ruined castle a few days before his name day. The days were used to set up tents and the small tournaments that would happen on the incoming days. A few noble houses were more than happy to send help on building the establishment and providing various needs for the Prince. Soon enough, the empty terrority of the once Targaryen stronghold became a vision of its past. The surrounding areas were lively, filled with boisterous laughter and the clanks of chalices.

Jon and Rhaegar have visited Summerhall many times. Especially for the Dragon Prince, he knows the in's and out's of the place like the back of his hand. The two took the pleasure of showing their dear friend, Arthur, around the area and retelling embarrassing stories from their formative years. The Dornishman was not so sure about spending time in Summerhall due to the surrounding mummery. Yet, he quickly overcame the poignancy of the ghostly castle due to Rhaegar and Jon's sentimentality. The trio spent the best few days compared to their times in the suffocating atmosphere of King's Landing.

"How long do we plan to stay here?" Arthur inquired as he extended his arm to reach for an apple by a nearby branch.

Jon took a bite of his apple, munching the fruit with thought. He sat on the base of the big tree with Rhaegar, who strummed the strings of his harp softly. "A week at most. Lord Steffon is holding his grand tourney in a month's time," Jon answered before taking another bite.

Arthur picked the reddest apple he could find. He observed the fruit, twirling it in his hands like a ball, "A month? Wouldn't that give us more time to stay here for longer? Maybe another week or so?"

"Has Summerhall really grown on you that fast?" Jon let out a breathy chuckle. Arthur rolled his eyes, throwing his apple at Jon, which the latter caught surprisingly.

"It's a nice thought," Rhaegar included himself in the conversation. "But, Jon thought it would be best if we stayed in Griffin's Roost for a while before leaving for Storm's End."

Arthur raised his right brow, "Griffin's Roost?" The Kingsguard never thought of visiting Jon's stronghold while in the Stormlands, but now that it was brought to his attention, he was interested to go.

"My thoughts exactly," Rhaegar mistook Arthur's interest for displeasement.

Jon turned to Rhaegar with an offensive expression, his mouth left gapping, "Do you have a problem visiting Griffin's Roost?"

Rhaegar plucked a string of his harp, not fazed by Jon's wild gaze. He shrugged his shoulders, "There's not much to do there."

"The only reason I even offered is because it is the start of hunting season and there are an abundance of elk during this time," Jon side-eyed the Prince, then took a bite into the apple Arthur had thrown him.

"I was never fond of hunting. A cruelty to animals," Rhaegar professed, plucking another string.

Jon rolled his eyes, "Yet you eat them."

"What is Griffin's Roost like?" Arthur inquired, trying to imagine the castle. He wondered if Jon's ancestral home was as lavish as what Summerhall used to be before the fire.

"You will have to see the place for yourself," Jon pointed at Arthur with a cheek grin, "Griffin's Roost is a sight for sore eyes compared to Storm's End, that I can say."

In the distance, the trio heard an incoming pair of footsteps running towards them. They all turned to see another one of their friends, Richard Lonmouth. He currently served as Rhaegar's squire and a close friend to the trio. Richard was a man of great stature, standing at the same height as Arthur, if not taller. He has strong brows along with a strong nose that had a slight bump on the middle. He was blessed with a full-head of beautiful dark curls that brought softness to his prominent features. He did not smile much as his face rested more towards a frown.

"Come to join us? There's enough apples to go around if you're hungry," Jon said cheerfully to the squire as Richard reached the trio and tried to catch his breath.

"What brought you here Ric? Please take a seat and rest," Rhaegar gestured to the vacant space next to Jon.

Richard placed a hand on his chest as he took deep breaths and exhales. He waved off Rhaegar's offer, "I am more than happy to join you all here but—," he took another breath, "—but I must relay an important message."

Arthur hastily grabbed his pouch of water nearby, and handed it to the squire. Richard thanked the Kingsguard before taking a hefty amount of water, some of the cool liquid ran down his throat.

"Is it the Small Council again?" Jon inquired as he was pretending to vomit. "Even on getaways, they seem to want to ruin to find on purpose."

Richard stopped drinking, giving the ouch back to Arthur. He shook his head rapidly, "No, no, not the Small Council."

"Then who?" Arthur tilted his head in anticipation.

Richard looked at Rhaegar with a small smile, "Nyrella. She arrived just now."

It took the trio no time to pick themselves up and quickly speed through the open field towards the direction where Richard pointed out that led to Nyrella's wheelhouse. Their hearts raced, feeling an electricity of suspense rush throughout their entire bodies. Onlookers gave the three gentlemen worried looks as they passed them in a great hurry, wondering what could cause such a frenzy among them.

"Do you both think she changed?" Jon asked tiredly. He was out of breath, and saying anything as he ran was harder than he thought.

Arthur refrained from saying anything. Jon's question was a question he feared for sometime now. Months of traveling from place to place, changes a person. This was certainly true, especially for him. Arthur was not the same person he was when he lived in Starfall. And it would be impossible for Nyrella to have stayed the same as she was in King's Landing. He did not fear that his feelings would lessen if she did change. Change was good, it was improvement, and he will not be the one to stop personal growth. Yet, what he really feared was that her feelings for him had changed. Just the thought of losing her love, agonized him.

"I cannot say," Rhaegar answered, wiping the sweat off his forehead, "she is still a young girl learning and maturing."

"And does that scare you?" Jon replied with another question. Arthur looked at Rhaegar, eager to know his response.

Rhaegar smiled, "Whether she has changed or not. Nyrella...she will always be what she always has been to me—my sister. And the same should be said for you two, whatever shape or form she means to you." He glanced at Arthur since his words were more targeted towards him than Jon.

Arthur absorbed Rhaegar's answer. He averted his eyes from the duo, hoping they would not notice his troubled expression. Even with the reassuring words, there was a part of him, almost, like déjà vu or intuition that something was different, and he did not know whether he liked the feeling or not.

Then, at the corner of their eyes, they spotted the wheelhouse at the center of the road that led towards the tents. A small group of armored men and nicely dressed ladies were huddled by the door of the wooden wheelhouse, most likely in conversation. But as they got closer, they instantly saw a distinguishable silhouette and loose silver hair that swayed with the light breeze—Nyrella. Her back faced the trio as she divulged in conversation with others. She looked the same as when she left.

"Ny!" Rhaegar shouted, catching her attention along with the people in her company. They all turned wide-eyes as they saw the Prince of Dragonstone running towards them.

"Reg!" Her voice mimicked the volume of his. She took a few steps away towards him, extending her arms out. Then in the spur of the moment, Rhaegar closed the distance between them and embraced his sister with a bone crushing force. He easily picked her up from the ground and spinned her around.

"You can let me go now!" A giggle wasp Ed her lips as she tapped his back to gesture that she had enough.

Rhaegar spun her one more time before setting her back down on the ground. His hands were on her shoulder to help steady herself. He smiled big, showing his pearl teeth, "I've missed you terribly. I thought you were not coming since I did not receive any letters or ravens from you. You made me worry that something happened to you and—"

Nyrella giggled again at his rambling. "I'm alright, Rhaegar," she interrupted him as she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I did not write to you because I wanted to come here as a surprise. I'm sorry if I made you worried."

He chuckled, "Well, I am glad you are here now. I had my worries that you were still angry with me or forgot about my name day."

A delicate smile formed on heart-shaped lips, "I am not angry with you nor would I forget about your name day."

Rhaegar sighed in relief, taking a second to take her in fully. "You look really well, Ny, almost glowing. I hope your trip was good and smooth. I see you brought company with you," he glanced at the group, who were seeking glances at him.

"Thank you, Reg," she smiled brighter, "The journey was better than expected. I made an acquaintance with—"

"Nyrella! You tart!" Jon shouted as he cuffed off Nyrella by hugging her behind and lifting her up. Nyrella squealed in shock as Jon spun her around like Rhaegar did.

"Jon! Put me down!" Nyrella yelled, feeling a sense of nausea come over her from the circular motion. Jon heeded, placing Nyrella back where she stood. Nyrella was disoriented and nearly lost her footing if not for Rhaegar holding her shoulders.

"I feel utterly betrayed you never sent me a raven to inform me of your sneaky plans," Jon ruffled her hair, which made Nyrella glare at him.

Nyrella brushed out the tangles of her hair as she rolled her eyes, "If I told you, you would not keep the secret to yourself. You would tell Rhaegar the instant you see him."

Jon squinted his eyes, "I would not," he grumbled.

Rhaegar patted his friend's back, "We both know it's true." The comment made Jon roll his eyes, and slightly push Rhaegar.

As Jon and Rhaegar interacted with themselves, Nyrella stayed quiet, admiring the two. Yet, within this silence, she felt another person's stare on the side of her body. Instinctively, she slowly turned to see who it was. Nyrella found herself staring into violet irises, one she has not seen for months.

"Arthur," she uttered. This caught the attention of Rhaegar and Jon. They directed their attention to the Kingsguard, who was awkwardly standing behind them and with a distance to.

Jon strode toward the Kingsguard, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, "Sword of the Morning over here, missed you the most out of all of us." The redhead displayed a playful grin, knowing exactly what he was hinting at, but Arthur nudged his ribs, clearly not impressed. Arthur looked at Nyrella, anxious for her reply.

However, Nyrella let out a hearty chuckle. Her face spread into a delightful smile, radiating confidence and red tint over her cheeks. Arthur concluded it was the bright sunlight that caused her flush. "I could say the same thing. Arthur is the only one among you three, that I left on good terms with," he watched her gaze fall on him, and her smile got bigger.

"How are you Nyrella?" Arthur managed to speak up.

"I'm very well, Ser, and you? I hope I did not leave you with much trouble," she glanced between the lord and prince.

Arthur nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, resisting a huge smile, "I could barely keep them away from causing trouble, but I am well as you are."

"That's good to hear..." she averted her eyes as she hid a blush, "and even better that I can see you for myself. I have been waiting for this day since I left."

"Are you—"

"Arthur! Rhaegar! Jon!" Another voice shouted through the air, cutting Arthur off from his question. All four of them turned to see the incoming person.

The stranger was a man dressed only in a loose fitted tunic with exaggerated sleeves. He stood shorter than the three men he called out to, yet his build was not something to overlook. His dirty blonde hair gleamed under the exposure of daylight, and he had complimenting honey brown eyes. His face was well-structured which is evident by his strong jaw. As he walked to the small group, he held himself with a confidence many men would be jealous of and swoon many ladies.

"Myles Mooton," Rhaegar went to embrace the knight. "It has been awhile. How are you?" the Prince said as he pulled away and patted the knight on his back.

"Never better. It looks like you all are well and settled in Summerhall nicely," Myles responded with a wide grin.

"Am guessing you are part of the surprise?" Jon raised a brow, matching the energy around.

"I guess you can say that," the blonde chuckled.

"It's good to see you, Myles. I hope your trip here was as pleasant as Nyrella's," Arthur greeted the Knight of Maidenpool.

Myles' shifted his focus on the Silver Princess, his grin pulled wider than it already was. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leaning his head against her's. The sudden intimacy made Arthur, Rhaegar, and Jon freeze on their spot. A mixture of confusion and shock floods their entire expression. Their eyes darted rapidly between Myles and Nyrella. Arthur clenched his jaw as he watched all of this unfolding in front of him.

"Oh, you do not have to worry Arthur, my trip down here was pleasant...thanks to Nyrella," he displayed a playful smirk at the maiden in his arms.

Nyrella rolled her eyes, nudging his side. It caused Myles to exhale a breath but it didn't do much to wipe his smirk. "Myles and I intercepted each other on the way here. Since we were acquainted, I offered him to travel with me. He is a great companion to talk to," Nyrella cleared up the air.

"More like argue," Myles corrected.

"More like you love to argue," Nyrella corrected, grinning.

Arthur's grip around Dawn's hilt was tighter than before. Suddenly, his senses were heightened, picking up every tiny detail between Myles and Nyrella's interaction. He stiffened up, tense, and alert as he witnessed the way Nyrella chuckled at Myles' charm or the way he looked at her and vice versa. Something about them two made his blood boil for no reason. He felt irritated and annoyed, clenching his jaw tighter, almost to the point of gritting his teeth.

"It is nice to see that my sister and former squire are well acquainted," Rhaegar clapped his hands together which broke the awkward atmosphere from going into a silence.

"A random and weird acquaintance," Jon pointed out between the pair, "back in King's Landing, you two never even held a proper conversation."

"No truer words than yours Jon," Myles responded. "I'm surprised as well."

Nyrella smiled at all of them, "I think it's a sign from the gods that we are all meant to be great friends."

The pain in Arthur's chest came back again, but this time it was worse than before. He thought it would go away once he was with Nyrella, fully believing his worries would be gone. Yet, it was too good to be true. Nyrella did change. She changed for the better. She was more confident, lovelier, and happier. He could not wish anything more for her. However, her growth meant that there was a possibility that she outgrew her feelings for him. It was evident by the way she acted with Myles. It was the same way she acted with him before she left King's Landing. It was painful to witness.

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

The next morning came quickly, which meant that Rhaegar's name day would be in a day's time. Nyrella along with a group of high-born ladies from the Reach scurried off to the wild fields to pick flowers. They intend to use their pickings as decorations to embellish the scenery for the feast tomorrow night. Their sweet laughter filled the warm humid air, while they swayed around with their bare feet digging into the cool earth.

Under Rhaegar's command, Arthur and Barristan were responsible for supervising and protecting the young maidens. They were invited by Nyrella to join flower picking, but they politely declined to stay under the shade of the tree and observe the surroundings for any danger. While the two Kingsguards did their given duties, the rest of the high-born men and knights were out hunting for tomorrow's festivities.

"It's good to hear that your experience while on the royal progress went well," Arthur turned to the older Kingsgaurd with an acknowledging nod.

Barristan was looking out in the distance, taking a deep breath, "It is refreshing to see familiar faces after so long in the company of a new lord every fortnight or so." He met Arthur's gaze, extending his hand to pat the younger's shoulder, "I look forward to the day, I go back to King's Landing and see our sworn-brothers once again."

Arthur could see a slight sadness in the latter's eyes. It did not occur to him that being away and on the road constantly with little company was indeed lonely at times. "Hopefully soon, you are able to be back home," Arthur reassured with a small smile.

"That is too optimistic," Barristan chuckled, then his gaze shifted to the field on his left, where the maidens were. "But, I do not think Nyrella has the intention to choose a lord to marry anytime soon," he said as he found the fair-haired princess chattering with a lady from a small house of the Reach.

The Dayne mirrored Barristan's actions. He felt his chest constricted every time he saw her. His lips deflated into a frown, "How has she fared?"

"She was scared and angry at first. It's a given how she left things in King's Landing. Yet, she came to love her royal progress because she traveled and met new people. She is a natural in her role and a way of making people fall in love with her. And I suppose, she wants to keep it that way for as long as she can. She once told me that she can do more good on the road than back home."

"She has been busy," Arthur remarked, "There is no doubt she has stolen many people's hearts." Like she did with mine.

Barristan nodded with a tug on his lips, "The people stole her heart. While on the royal progress, she always made time to visit the smaller towns and the common folk. She listened to them, and whatever she could provide, she gave it to them freely."

In a different perspective, in the middle of the overgrown field of grass and wildflowers, Nyrella was focused on the task at hand. She observed the many flowers, debating which ones were complementary to the other decorations for tomorrow's feast. Nyrella glanced at her wooden basket, realizing that many of her plucked flowers were warmer in colors—shades of oranges and yellows. She frowned at the lack of variation.

"Maybe another color would make an interesting piece for the arrangements?" She mumbled to herself, but one of her company heard her.

"But the yellow and orange flowers complimented the theme so well," her eyes glanced at her own basket that looked exactly like Nyrella's, "I would not know another that would suit the palette well enough to be pretty."

Nyrella hummed, "I appreciate the thought, Isydore." She looked back at her basket, reaching inside to feel the soft petals assailant her skin.

"What do you think they are talking about?" Lady Isydore of House Florent inquired as she leaned closer. The Dragon princess furrowed her eyebrows, confused by the sudden question of the maiden, who had beautiful dark wavy hair and a curious glint in her eyes.

"Who are you talking about?" Nyrella glanced to see across the field if Isydore was hinting at the other Reach maidens.

However, Lsydore shook her head in disagreement. She signaled Nyrella to look left with her eyes, which Nyrella followed. "Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur. What do you think they are talking about? I saw them looking towards our way a few times," the dark-haired girl giggled.

Nyrella squinted her eyes at the armored duo. She observed them for a minute, trying to read lips and conjure the words that formed. "I have no clue. It must be simple conversation," she brushed off, focusing back on Lsydore.

"Maybe they are talking about the tourney Lord Steffon is having. I do hope they compete. I never saw them compete before but I heard they are both accomplished," Lsydore said enthusiastically with big eyes.

Nyrella let out a breathy chuckle, "With renowned names like theirs, there is no doubt they will compete in the tourney."

"I heard from a few ladies..." The Florent girl leaned closer, her voice nearing a whisper, "that Ser Myles Mooton is planning to compete in the joust. His intentions are to win, so he could name you the queen of love and beauty."

Nyrella blinked her eyes and stared at the girl with shock and confusion, "I am not hearing things am I?"

"It is only rumors. Are you not pleased in the slightest? I assumed you held a fondness for Ser Myles and—"

"I do not mind," Nyrella interrupts, "It shocked me that is all. I hold Myles with my highest regards. I am fond of him and admire him greatly. I would not mind if that is his intention to win but..."

"But?" Lsydore tilted her head in anticipation.

"It would not be fair if he were to crown me queen of love and beauty. I have been crowned already in a grandiose tourney, I do not need a second. It is only fair for another lady, more deserving than I am, to be crowned," Nyrella responded as she plucked another flower from the ground, but she held it in her hand to observe it.

Lsydore nodded in agreement. She couldn't agree more, she wanted to be crowned queen of love and beauty but she never got the opportunity since she has never been to a big tourney. Lord Steffon's tourney will be her first. "Princess Nyrella, if you do not mind. Who crowned you queen of love and beauty? Was it Prince Rhaegar?" Lsydore asked. If she could ask the gods, she would want Rhaegar to crown her.

A smile emerged on her lush lips, "No. Not Rhaegar. It was Ser Arthur." Nyrella smiled wider as she said his name. A flood of memories from Casterly Rock rushed in as if Visery's tourney happened yesterday. She remembered how happy she felt when he crowned her the honor—a dream come true.

"Ser Arthur," Lsydore repeated the Kingsguard's name. She looked over Nyrella's shoulder to see the Dornish knight. "You are truly lucky. Ser Arthur is very handsome and chivalrous," a grin formed on her pouty lips.

Nyrella hummed as she nodded her head slowly. She continued to pick flowers in front of her, not really in the mood to talk about Arthur with another person.

"It is too bad that he is in the Kingsguard," Lsydore scrunched her nose. "He is a maiden's fantasy," she continued to eye him, "If he did not take his vows, I would not hesitate to ask my father if I could marry him. Yet, I have no doubt many other ladies have the same thought. I would much prefer to have Ser Arthur crown me than Ser Myles becau—"

"That is enough, Lsydore," there was a warning in Nyrella's voice and her face was stern.

Lsydore was silent immediately, a flush of embarrassment present on her high cheekbones. Nyrella cleared her throat, cutting through the awkwardness, "You should join the other. There are not many flowers here to pick."

Lsydore understood, nodding her head, "Are you not joining us?"

"No." Nyrella held her basket in front of her, she looked down at the warm toned petals, "I will go somewhere else to find flowers for the arrangements."

"Of course, your Grace. I shall leave you to it then," the Florent girl smiled before turning and walking away towards the other Reach ladies.

Nyrella let out a breath she has been holding. She loosened her tight grip around the handle of her wooden basket. She watched Lsydore walk away along with Nyrella's irritation. However, as her irritation washed away, a slight guilt came in. She felt bad for snapping at the Florent girl, and she didn't mean to ruin the nice conversation they had. She did not know what came over her, yet she did not stay on thought for long.

Barristan was the first to notice the Dragon Princess walking towards his direction. His right brow piqued up, wondering many reasons as to why Nyrella decided to depart away from her maiden friends. The older Kingsguard nudged Arthur's side before slightly leaning closer, "Turn around. Nyrella is coming."

The younger Kingsguard looked at Barristan with a quizzical brow, pivoting on the heels of his feet to face the direction Barristan was signaling to. That is when his violet irises landed on Nyrella. Her head was down, looking at her feet as she walked while her basket of flowers swung at her side. "Nyrella," he called out, "Is something wrong?" He inquired as he took a step closer.

Nyrella snapped her head to look at the two Kingsguard, a smile spread across her face. She quickly took the remaining steps until she was under the tree's shade and could see their faces clearly. "No, everything is fine. The ladies are having a swell time," she answered Arthur as she caught his gaze.

"And are you not having a swell time?" Barristan asked, while looking between her and the other noble ladies.

Nyrella had no intention of losing her eye contact with Arthur's. His gaze was comforting and warm like home. "I am, but I came here to ask Arthur if he could walk with me," she looked up at the Dornishman with hope, praying he would take her offer.

"I am more than glad too," Arthur answered, "allow me." He looked down at her basket as his hand reached for the handle and held it comfortably in his dominant hand. Then he offered his other arm for her to take, and Nyrella linked their arms together.

"We won't be gone for too long, Barristan," Nyrella assured the older man.

"I am more than capable of handling your company, Nyrella," Barristan answered with amusement.

They bid each other their goodbyes and departed. Barristan spent a minute observing Nyrella and Arthur walking away, the smiles in his eyes frowned for them. It was recently made known to him of Arthur's affection for the Dragon Princess. He understands Arthur's situation, empathized with the feeling he must be feeling but does not want to admit it. For how young Arthur is, he swore his vows too young to realize what he was giving away. And it was too late for him to take them back. Barristan wished the best of them and to make the right decisions.

"How do you like Summerhall?" Nyrella asked as she lifted the skirt of her gown to take a big step over the tall grass. She wore an ivory gown embellished in gold details. The gown had no sleeves that exposed her arms and a deep neckline that showed the majority of her collarbone and bust. In between the pleating of the skirt are woven pink lace to accentuate the ivory color. The temperatures of the Dornish Marches were hotter than the warm nice weather of King's Landing. No matter what she wore, she was glistening in the humid air and her silver hair stuck to her body.

"It is not what I imagined," Arthur glanced at Nyrella as she let out a chuckle.

"Not ghostly enough for you?" Her voice was filled with teasing.

It was Arthur's turn to chuckle a hearty laugh, "It's rather a disappointment. I expected to see the occasional ghost, but I saw none the few days."

"Oh what a shame really," Nyrella wiggles her index finger at him. "I would have paid a golden dragon to see you scared."

"Are you scared of ghosts?" Arthur inquired.

Nyrella shook her head, "No. They are my friends." She paused, taking a fresh breath, "and as morbid as it sounds, they are family."

He saw her take a glance on her left, where the blackened summer castle stood. There was a melancholy in the tone of her response, it was similar to how Rhaegar spoke. It was hard to not be saddened by the tragic story of Aegon V; his son and heir, Prince Duncan; and fellow Kingsguard Ser Duncan. On the same note, Targaryens are cursed with tragedy. Arthur only hoped to the New Gods and the Old that the Dragon siblings do follow the same fate. He would not allow it.

"Do you sometimes wish the tragedy did not happen?" Arthur questioned as he helped Nyrella walk over tall grasses.

"Sometimes," she uttered. "I like to imagine and wonder if I would be happier to be around more family. I would pay anything to get to know them or see them once. It is a sad thing for a Targaryen to be alone, hence our sigil," she pointed to Arthur's breast armor, "there always has to be more than one head. But, if events did not play out as they did, I would not be here talking to you."

"A silver lining," Arthur responded, taking the time to look at her.

"I hope so," Nyrella smiled at him.

On the corner of Arthur's eyes, he spotted a blur of color. He stopped in his tracks to retrace his towards the spot. Nyrella stopped as well, clocking a brow up. "Is there something wrong?" She asked worriedly as Arthur surveyed their surroundings.

"Over there," Arthur pointed to the distance. Nyrella followed his finger with her eyes. "Hopefully you have more room for more flowers," Arthur lifted up the wooden basket.

"Lilacs," Nyrella piqued up as she saw the giant bush of purple flowers hiding behind part of a crumbling wall. "How did you notice them?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, "I saw them while we were walking."

"You never fail to amaze me," she placed a hand on her hip as she wore a grin.

"Come on," he said as he extended his arm towards her, "Pick some. I know they are your favorites."

"They are..." her voice trailed, while her gaze looked between the bushes of flowers and Arthur. A toothy grin ever present on her face, "I'll race you!" Then, she made a break towards the bushes, not giving another moment for Arthur to respond.

Arthur's gaze followed her as she ran. He was still standing in the pathway of overgrown grass and weeds. His mouth was slightly gapping at the unfair start of the race. He decided to let her win for now, and walk to the bushes so the flowers in the basket do not fly away.

Nyrella reached the lilac bushes out of breath. She looks back at Arthur, waving her hands in the air, "Come on Arthur! Run!"

The Kingsguard held out a basket for Nyrella to see, "You've already won!"

Nyrella rolled her eyes at him playfully. She turned back around to face the many clusters of her favorite flowers. Her hands started to pick and choose the prettiest ones. They were what she needed to compliment the oranges and yellows of the wild flowers she plucked in the fields.

"You know, a warning would be appreciated," the deep rich tone of Arthur's voice commented as he came beside her. Nyrella heard rustling, signaling that he was picking the flowers too.

"And if I did, you would have won," she countered, turning to face him with a hand on her waist and a handful of lilacs with her mother.

Arthur chuckled as he shook his head. He pulled a smaller cluster of lilacs that were a similar tone to Nyrella's eyes. He turned his body to mirror her's. His hand extended towards the side of her face, gently pushing the front strand of her hair behind her ear. "We have to see about that," Arthur then carefully slipped the small clusters of flowers behind her ear, "rematch?"

Nyrella stayed frozen on her spot. "Re-rematch?"

"Don't tell me you're scared of a rematch?" Arthur teased her, his deep voice filled with amusement.

The Dragon Princess averted her face away from Arthur, "No, I'm not." A fury of heat rose up to her cheeks, coloring her crimson like the rubies. But you make me nervous, and that's unfair, she wanted to tell him.

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

On the day of Rhaegar's ten-and-nine name day, Nyrella made sure everything was perfect and how she imagined it to be. She made Jon and Arthur take the reins of the day time activities for Rhaegar's amusement, while she and the other ladies curated the night event—the feast. The gathering would be a small function and exclusively made for only the closest friends of her brother's to enjoy a night of drinking and food.

Nyrella had the largest tent on the camp decorated to the brim for the feast. She wanted it to feel like one of the dining halls in the Red Keep. There were candlelights perched around the tent, luminating a soft glow of warmth. Green leafy garlands with silk ribbons interwoven were hung around the wide space. At the center was a long table with a handful of seats for the guests. Gold plates and chalices were placed on the table, alongside embellishments of yellow and orange flowers with hints of lilacs in vases and tall showy candelabras holding five candles at once. A plethora of dished foods were scattered around the table, including massive pitchers of wine with intricate designs of dancing dragons. The ambience felt familiar, cozy, and like home.

"Nyrella out did herself this time," Jon commented as he was the first one to enter the tent. Rhaegar, Arthur, and many others followed him in. All their eyes were scanning around the heavily decorated surroundings. Some of their mouths were gapping open, impressed that a few maidens were able to accomplish such a task in the matter of hours.

"Who can blame her?" Richard responded to Jon as he picked up a card on one of the plates, "she even wrote our names on cards."

Jon scurried off to find his seat, which was next to Rhaegar's, "She knows me so well." A grin plastered on her face as he slid into his chair. The other guests gradually found their seats as well, situating themselves comfortably while still mesmerized by their surroundings.

Rhaegar was the last person to take his seat, which was located at the end of table between Jon and Arthur. His right hand slid over the wooden chair, glancing at the handwritten paper of his name. "Where is my dearest sister?" He looked up to meet with everyone's eyes. They all looked at one another, shrugging their shoulders.

"Do you know where she is, Arthur?" Rhaegar turned to his closest friend.

The Kingsguard shook his head, "I have not seen her since this morning."

"I last saw her with the other ladies, but that was a few hours ago," Myles spoke up which caused Arthur and Rhaegar to look at him. "I suppose they are not joining us tonight," he assumed.

Rhaegar hummed as he took his seat, "It is uncharacteristic for her to not join."

"Well, I do not care in the slight if she did or not," Jon gave his thought freely, "I have been waiting for hours to eat and that ham is looking ever so devoura—OW!" Jon grimaced as he felt someone kick him from under the table. He glared across the table at Arthur, who was glaring back at him.

All of a sudden, the sound of whiplash made the attendees of the feast jump slightly in their seats. Their eyes flickered to the entrance with alertness. "You all did not plan to start without us, did you?" Nyrella let herself inside the warm tent, while two other ladies and a band of minstrels followed her inside.

"No, we weren't," Rhaegar smiled at his sister, while he kicked Jon under the table as well. Jon shushed his pain, glaring at the Prince as he did with Arthur. "I don't see a seat for you," Rhaegar realized as he searched for another seat in front of Barristan.

"That is good to hear you did not start without me," Nyrella sauntered at the other end of the table. She picked up a nearby pitcher with one hand on the handle while the other supported the bottom. "And I do not have a seat because I will be your cupbearer for tonight, along with my other ladies."

"Cupbearer? Why not ask one of the servants?" Jon inquired as he reached over the table to get a slab of ham.

A breathy chuckle escaped her mouth. She went over to Barristan's side, and poured wine in his chalice, "I do not mind fulfilling a servant's work..."

Once the chalice was filled, she moved in between Arthur and Richard. She tilted the pitcher to pour wine into the squire's chalice, "...not forgetting to mention, men cannot resist a beautiful maiden to serve them wine. Am I speaking the truth, Richard?"

The squire flickered his eyes at Nyrella, when she said his name. She wore a cheeky smirk and she leaned closer to him. "I-It certainly helps," he swallowed, averting his eyes to the cup of wine.

"Does it now, Richard?" Rhaegar further interrogated his squire.

That is when Richard realized what he said. His eyes widen, shaking his head and his hand in opposition, "No, no, no, I-I did not mean it in that way I—"

"Easy with him, Rhaegar," Nyrella told off her brother. She turned to Arthur, smiling down at him, "Wine?"

"Please," Arthur muttered in response. His gaze fell on her face as she focused on pouring the dark liquid in his chalice, trying not to spill any on the tablecloth.

"It is nothing more than a tease Richard," Rhaegar lifted his wine filled chalice at his squire. "But, stay clear of Ny's charms because she will have you tangled around her fingers."

"I heard that," Nyrella glared at Rhaegar.

"I am only warning my squire," Rhaegar chuckled as he raised both hands in the air, not wanting to get lectured by his sister.

Nyrella rolled her eyes, and continued to focus on pouring wine into Arthur's cup. "Would you like me to pour some more," she asked as she filled a third of his chalice.

"Just a little more," Arthur responded. He did not need the extra wine, but he did not want Nyrella to leave just yet. If he could, he wanted her to stay by his side the whole night.

Nyrella did as she was told. She poured wine until it filled the chalice halfway up, "That is enough for now. I cannot have you drunk on your first drink, can I? Summon me, if you need a refill. I am more than happy to pour you another." She gave him a smile before swiftly walking away to meet up with the other ladies.

His eyes trailed after her. His gaze swayed with her body as she moved. Her long silver hair cascaded down her back with some strands braided. The deep plum-colored gown she wore made her complexion under the candlelight bright like a moonstone. The silk fabric draped her figure loosely, yet hugged the surface of her curves perfectly. Then, as she turned to talk, her rouge lips formed into a delicate smile and her lavender eyes flicked in delight.

But, Arthur was not the only one eyeing the fair-haired maiden. "Nyrella," Myles called out to her. Arthur darted between the pair. A bubble of irritation inflated in him.

Nyrella excused herself from the other ladies, and strolled towards the former squire, turned knight. Myles smiled up at the Princess, gleaming with a toothy smile. "Do you need me to pour you another cup of wine, Ser?" Nyrella reached for the pitcher, but Myles blocked her.

"No actually. I wanted to know if you could entertain us?" Myles raised a brow.

"How so?" She tilted her head at him.

Myles got up from his seat to face the crowd of his friends, "Gentlemen!" He grabbed everyone's attention, "How would you like Nyrella to sing for us?" He gestured his hands to her.

"Oh, please, no, no, I cannot sing," Nyrella smiled awkwardly at Myles and the rest of the men. She was not expecting for Myles to put her on the spot.

"But the night is lonely without entertainment, especially for a name day," he answered her.

Rhaegar put his fork down, chewing the food in his mouth to a finish. He downed the contents with a slip of his wine. Then, his attention was on his sister, "Just this once, Ny. If you may?"

When Nyrella looked into Rhaegar's eyes, there was a sadness that mystified his indigo irises. She almost forgot that this night was the same night nineteen long years ago that Summerhall was burned down and members of their family perished. It was a melancholy that followed her brother until now, and it showed more than ever. There was no way she could deny him a smile, even if it were to last a mere seconds. She nodded at him, "any request?"

"Jenny's song," Rhaegar answered within a heartbeat.

"A woeful request," Myles commented to his sire.

Nyrella laid her hand on Myles' shoulder, "A request is a request." Myles nodded and sat back down. Nyrella took one last look of her brother before situating herself at the opposite end of the table.

Arthur shifted in his seat to face her direction. He watched as she signaled to the minstrels on her right. In a matter of moments, the somber tune of strings filled the warm air. Despite the tent lit up with the warmth of the candle's flame, a shiver of coolness breezes through the space making everyone's hair stand on their skin.

" 'High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts

The ones she had lost and the ones she had found

And the ones who had loved her the most' "

Arthur had only heard Jenny's song once before while he passed by a group of minstrels back in Starfall. The song was too sad to listen to a second time, but here he was listening to Nyrella singing to it. She sang openly in her chest, annunciating every word with depth to compliment the sorrow.

" 'The ones who'd been gone for so very long

She couldn't remember their names

They spun her around on the damp old stones

Spun away all her sorrow and pain' "

Nyrella swayed her body to the rhythm, feeling herself get lost within the story of Jenny and her ghosts. She imagined herself dancing in the empty halls of the decaying stone walls with the full moon at its highest.

" 'And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave' "

Everyone was enraptured, their eyes either on Nyrella's even rocking or closed, listening and humming to themselves.

" 'They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall

From winter to summer then winter again

'Til the walls did crumble and fall ' "

Despite being a babe on the day of the Summerhall tragedy, Rhaegar had a deep interpersonal connection with the events like a remembrance of the reason why he was here, seated down and listening to his sister sing. He was flesh and blood—alive. But at what cost? He was still, calm and quiet, yet his spirits were haunted.

" 'And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave' "

Nyrella took her last breath to sing the final part of the song. When she did, a roar of applause cut through the dense air, replacing the sorrow with hope of happiness. Nyrella was taken aback, but she waved to the crowd, muttering her gratitude.

Myles got up on his seat, giving Nyrella a standing ovation. He strolled by her side, pulling her into a tight embrace. Arthur swallowed the tightness in his throat, continuing to applaud.

The pair pulled away from each other, looking into their eyes with visions of one another. They smiled fondly, showing a tint of redness on the apples of their cheeks. As they stared in each other's faces, Arthur averted his eyes. He pushed down his feelings, knowing that he could never have that, not when he is a Kingsguard and she a Princess. He averted his gaze, acknowledging it was selfish to expect her to only be within his arms and comfort.

Rhaegar glanced between Myles and Nyrella to Arthur. He had a feeling of what was going on. It saddened him. He was responsible for paining his closest friend, preventing him from expressing his love for his sister. He was also responsible for sending Nyrella away, pushing her further away from Arthur and into the arms of another. He thought it was for the best, and he still did... but at what cost?

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