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#arthur dayne fanfiction
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Tender Tragedy
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Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Targaryen!Reader
Warnings: death
Words:2601
Day winding down to night, Dany took her intimate party on to her personal balcony where an iron pit sat at the center. Surrounding her great pyramid were small specks of orange light. Each one belonged to a family getting ready for slumber. Not Daenerys and her court. Their work tend to bleed into the late hours of the night. There was much work to be done in Meereen.
“Your grace.” Ser Barristan Selmy, a newly added member, holds out a jewel studded goblet to his queen.
Dany eyes the extravagance of the cup as she takes it graciously from the old knight’s hand. Growing up, such decadence was scarce for the once crown prince and princess. Viserys often complained that had Robert not started his rebellion, they would still have the Targaryen wealth that was owed to them.
Alas, Viserys’ own vanity was to be his doom. Now only Dany basked in such exquisite items. 
Taking a sip of the sweet wine she had been given, Daenerys can’t resist thinking on her other siblings; those long dead. She’d had Rhaegar, her older brother, and an older sister, (y/n). 
Rhaegar, the whole of the rebellion being his fault, of course had to die in order to restore order in the seven kingdoms along with the death of Aerys. That was a certainty that Dany had slowly come to acknowledge. She didn’t want to think that any fault lay on her family, but there were so many facts she couldn’t ignore. Targaryens were to blame for everything.
One thing she still couldn’t wrap her head around was why her eldest sister had to die as well. No one explained to Dany the ultimate fate of (y/n). Those like Jorah and Selmy who knew kept her in the dark. 
Turning back to Selmy, she watches as he seats himself in front of the fire that gently warmed his aging joints. Jorah was next to him, speaking quietly with Grey Worm who preferred to stand at attention in case his blade was needed. 
For a moment, Dany imagines how the guiding hand of a gentle, older sister might have changed her life instead of growing up with Viserys’ cruel tendencies. She grieves for what could have been. 
“What happened to (y/n)?”
Her inquiry has Grey Worm and Jorah ceasing their conversation all together. Even the introspective gaze that Missandei had while listening to them had evaporated.
Selmy sadly stares at his hands. He always became melancholic when the subject of (y/n) was brought up. “I don’t think right now’s the time for that. . .”
“Then when will be? No one talks about her. Why am I not to know about her, my only sister?” Her tone of authority has them averting their gaze from her drilling eyes. Must she be stuck with the knowledge that her elder brother Rhaegar died because of the accusation of rape and knowing Viserys was a monster in his own right much like their father? Were there truly no good members of House Targaryen that were worthy of life?
Pondering for a second, Selmy heaves out a weary sigh. “It is not a happy story. Many do not want to recall what happened to your sister because she was much loved and her death devastated every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. As if enough blood hadn’t been shed already.”
“It was utterly pointless.” Jorah murmurs, his own eyes glossing over. Dany had pestered him before about (y/n), any bit of information, but Jorah stood his ground and never uttered a peep about the elder Targaryen daughter. 
Quietly, Daenerys trails over to them and sits on the other side of Selmy. “What was she like? I just want to get an idea of who she is.”
That was an easier question to answer.
Light came back into Selmy’s eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch upward into a smile. “She was goodness incarnate, Your Grace. Much like yourself. And beautiful. (y/n) did much to help those suffering in the slums of King’s Landing. Was always trying to make things better and was an excellent problem solver. She was a burst of life in the Red Keep. Everyone thrived in her presence.”
So why was she too a casualty of the rebellion. Dany would tread lightly to that question. “Did she ever marry? She was very close to Rhaegar in age, right?” She’d be at the perfect age where young ladies were often pawned off to other influential families. Even Daenerys had been married to Khal Drogo when she was just ten and three.
Jorah chuckles at that. “Oh many tried. She was considered the perfect match. Constantly being hounded by old and young lords alike. Marrying her off though had never been Aerys’ top priority when his mind started to rot.”
“He never thought of marrying (y/n) to Rhaegar?” It was Valyrian tradition to wed one sibling to the other. Many generations of the Targaryens had kept the practice alive despite the negative views the Sept had toward it. 
“It had been discussed.” Selmy admits. “Maybe if he had done that to begin with, we could have avoided war. But. . . (y/n) had already pledged her love to someone else.”
**
Ser Arthur carefully scans his surroundings in the hallway to make sure no one saw or followed him to the destined rendezvous point. When he seemed to be completely by himself, he closed the door and turned to face you. Patiently awaiting him on the foot of the bed with a wide grin.
He’d mentioned many times how he’d never, in a million years, get used to the sight of your smile  and the way it illuminated your lavender eyes. Beacons that entangle Arthur in a trap he had no plan to escape from.
You stand and dissolve the small distance between you in a blink of an eye. Your hands, soft and smelling of the sweetness of spring, grab his cheeks to pull him down to your starving lips.
Arthur was all too ready to comply.
**
“She was in love with the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne.” He remembers Ser Arthur with the utmost fondness, but their relationship had been doomed from the very start. Selmy had been there when Arthur was sworn into the Kingsguard. Even by then the boy was completely enraptured by Princess (y/n). 
Dany, listening intently, originally this of this as a perfect story from some old fairytale . A princess and her lover knight, a classic. But (y/n)’s story did not end happily ever after.
Missandei holds Dany’s hand. She too had a sense of where this kind of story was going. 
“So great was their affections for one another, it was quite obvious to everyone around them. During tourneys, Arthur would ask for her favor. The dances before the war, they would dance with each other. When war finally broke out, we found (y/n)’s chambers empty. Arthur, before joining Rhaegar’s forces, spirited the princess out of the Keep.”
*
You jolt to a stop as Arthur held out an arm to stop you from advancing. You’d been crawling along the shadows in the corridors of the Keep as Arthur led you hall after hall to evade any guards. Like hell he’d leave you behind. What he was doing was punishable by death but he didn’t care. 
Thinking the coast had been clear, you’d almost gone around the corner but Arthur’s better trained ears heard someone coming. 
He holds you close to his side so that your cheek was pressed against his armor and you were partially hidden under his cloak. You didn’t breathe for fear of discovery.
Whoever it was walked right past you, none the wiser. Both of you release your breath simultaneously. Even if someone had caught you, Arthur wouldn’t hesitate to kill them; even if it was his own brothers from the guard. They no longer mattered anymore.
A single touch from Arthur had you jumping and he chuckling. He’d only reached out for your hand. He brings it up to his lips and gives your knuckles the most gentle of kisses.
Finally you smile as he coaxes you along.
**
At this point, Selmy pauses to quench his parched mouth and ignite the courage required to continue with the story. He wished it ended there, (y/n) and Arthur escaping and happily living out the rest of their days somewhere in Essos.
Dany as well as the others drink from their cups.
“Of course this caused such a rage in Aerys. (Y/n) tended to have stubborn strike, but for the most part she had been obedient to Aerys. It was the quite the blow to him that his treasured daughter had escaped with one of his personal guards.”
Aerys had sent whatever manpower he could spare to look for (y/n) and Arthur.
“They remained elusive for several months. But one day while Arthur was gone to fight in a battle, Rhaegar’s defenseless camp had been attacked. They dragged (y/n) out by force.”
**
You’re pretty sure your scream pierced a few of your assailants’ ear drums.
Someone grabbed a fistful of your silver hair and nearly rips your skull from your neck. Even though it caused you unspeakable pain, you fight and claw at any inch off vulnerable skin you could dig your nails into.
They curse at you, crown Targaryen princess, and treat you with outstanding abuse you had never experienced before.
You could taste the rusty burst of blood trickling out from your split lip. Feel the boning of your corset imprint itself into your torso as they beat you into unconscious submission. These could not possibly be natives to the Crownlands. Possibly someone Aerys had paid off. No person, knowing who you are, would ever treat you in such a manner. Whether you were the Mad King’s daughter or not.
Fight had fled from you as they hoist you onto the back of an awaiting horse. They keep their eyes open to scan the area once more before leaving. There was no sign of the Sword of the Morning.
Silent tears spring into your vision as you watch Rhaegar’s plundered camp consumed by flames.
Your captors waste no time and heed their mounts to move faster.
“(Y/N)!!!”
Your eyelids try to flutter open at the sound of Arthur’s voice stretching over miles. It was impossible.
Hooves cease to beat and quietly stop at the approaching figure. Men in armor dismount and brandish their swords. Arthur was greatly outnumbered.
His battle had been far away from the camp yet there was Arthur sizing up his chances as he hops off of his own war horse.
“Yield, Ser Dayne.” One called out to him. “The king wants you alive.”
Eyes that could have passed off for Targaryen flick over to you and a knife that had suddenly appeared tauntingly against your throat. You stay absolutely still unless the blades gives you its sharp kiss. The only way you could keep your fear at bay was to keep your gaze focused on Arthur’s eyes. Wisteria filled pools calm your racing heart although you knew there was still much for you to fear.
Arthur dropped the great sword of his house, Dawn, in front of his feet in surrender.
Countless knights descend upon him and bind his limbs in chains. It would not do to have a knight of Arthur’s caliber have any access to his limbs.
He’d be compliant as long as they kept the two of you together.
**
“Couldn’t Ser Arthur have taken them on? I’ve constantly heard of his mastery with the sword and how he was like no other.” To Dany, the infamous Sword of the Morning gave up quite easily.
Every line on Selmy’s face seems to deepen. “Alas, Arthur was still but a human. He knew when to pick his battles. This was not one he could’ve ever won by himself.”
He knew he must tie off the story of (y/n) Targaryen and Ser Arthur Dayne. Anyone could imagine the torture Aerys put his daughter and Arthur through before their actual death. They accepted their fate with their hand’s holding the other’s.
(Y/n) didn’t she a tear when she glared at her father as he read out their punishment. She kept her head held high as did Arthur. That’s how Selmy wanted to remember them. Not their grotesque corpses that had been left.
From the older man’s reaction, Daenerys knew she’d learned enough as her own tears spill over her bottom lashes.
Next to her, Missandei hastily wipes a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Her hand was trembling in Dany’s as they support one another.
From a hidden pocket, Selmy sighs and pulls out a leather drawstring pouch. “After. . . After they had died, Aerys wanted their remains to be tossed like common trash. Instead we properly buried them. However. . . Before all remnants of her life was scrubbed from the world, I saved this one piece of her.”
Once placed in her hands, Dany tentatively pulls open the pouch and pulls out a silver locket. Engraved into its metal were beautiful flowers. Each petal captured with intricate details. In the center was tucked a large pink pearl.
Dany opens it, her eyes instantly round and glisten. “I-Is this. . .” Her gaze falls back onto the contents of the locket. Inside was a perfectly curled lock of silver hair. Targaryen hair.
“Before she died, Aerys had her head shaved for further humiliation.” Selmy whispers.
Softly Dany pets the soft piece of hair. The only part of her sister she’ll ever know.
Shutting the locket with a gentle hand, Daenerys holds it close to her heart.
**
The strong beating of Arthur’s heart had nearly lulled you to sleep. His arm slung around you, daring anyone to put you in separate cells.
They granted you this one last request.
Aerys wouldn’t let you and Arthur live. Both of you accepted that when you were captured. The Mad King didn’t take prisoners of war.
At least you had one last night with him. To be held in his arms and gifted kisses upon the crown of your head. This was all you had ever asked for.
The Few months you’d spent with him evading Aerys had been the happiest. If this was the price you had to pay for it then so be it. You’d finally experienced true happiness
“(Y/n)?”
“Hmm?”
You shift in his hold to look up at his gorgeous face. The man was a work of art and possessed the looks of old gods of the sun. Despite the sultry pout of his full lips, Arthur had always been dedicated to you; no other woman had ever held such sway over him in his entire life. Sweet as it was he’d even tried his hand at poetry to try and explain how much he truly loved you. It was awful but to you it was your dearest possession.
All over again, you fall in love with him from the way he gazed down at you with naked love.
“Being with you has completed my life. No matter how short a time we had. I’d do it all over again knowing this would be the price.”
You blink back tears but it’s useless. His image is blurry. “M-Me too. Knowing that you love me and you’re here…”
Arthur caressed the side of your face and pressed his forehead to your’s.
Whatever what happened when the sun rose, you’d have no regrets.
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yourstruly-sephie · 2 years
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༺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 ༻
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 have forsworn love. For love is not a possibility for the life they currently live, only a mere fairytale a mother would tells her young children. But for them, the gods have other plans. For their destiny are deeply intertwined. Written in the stars, a tale as old as time. One of star-crossed lovers. A forbidden love story. A fate sealed and doomed. But love is not easily set in stone. It is mailable, tangible and everything right in the world. Love prevails all odds and obstacles. It is the driving force for two souls to be one. And only a few people are ever lucky enough to love. For Nyrella and Arthur, they will only have love.
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“𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫…”
Curated visuals, mood boards, etc. for the characters because I, Sephie, love to create visual representations. It adds ✨flavor✨ note: if the occasion calls, I will be adding my own oc characteristics to pre-existing characters to fill in holes.
“𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫…”
The written chapters that unfold the story between the two lovers.
“𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤…”
Random supplementary moodboards to help visualize what’s happening
“𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬…” (underworks)
A moodboard series dedicated to the many relationships and their progression.
“𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬…”
A moodboard series dedicated to the clothes worn by our OC (or other characters, this depends on my mood).
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samieree · 4 months
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Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon Masterlists
[General Masterlist with list of boys I can write one-shots with here]
[my works are also avaiable on Ao3: Samiere and on wattpad: _Saelin Also on fanfiction net, but only "Born in Flames" for now: Samiere]
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MASTERLIST Silver Princess || House of the Dragon (fanfiction)(Daemon Targaryen x OC x Aemond Targaryen)
King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn are expecting another child - possibly a new heir to the Iron Throne. After all, after the birth of two princesses, it must finally be time for a prince, right? On this occasion, a tournament is organized in King's Landing, which also attracts the king's brother - Daemon Targaryen to the capital. Unfortunately, the day of the tournament will set in motion a series of events that over the years will eventually lead to Dance of Dragons and something even worse, besides splitting House of the Dragon into three camps…
2. MASTERLIST Dawn of the North || Robb Stark (fanfiction)(Robb Stark x OC)
As the War of the Five Kings rages in Westeros, in the far north beyond the Wall, young princess of a forgotten kingdom will finally have the opportunity to break free from her father's watchful eye and try to live her own life. When there are reports of Daenerys Targaryen, who is already making plans to claim the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, Amalthea's father asks her to find her cousin. However, there is more to this request than a desire to reunite the family. However, before that happens, after leaving the fairy-tale kingdom of Acalida, Amalthea travels south, where after so many years of peaceful life, she collides with the brutal reality of the Seven Kingdoms. As soon as the voice of her heart speaks to her, she will have to pull herself together and show the other part of her character - reasonable, objective, cunning… And sometimes a bit mad and merciless to fit in a world full of intrigue and not lose her life. And as a Queen from unknown lands… She will have to earn respect and trust of others.
3. MASTERLIST Born in Flames || Game of Thrones (fanfiction)(OC x ?😏)
The young former Princess Visenya, and now Maegelle Targaryen, after the death of King Robert I Baratheon can finally come to King's Landing without fear of death at the hands of Robert, who has vowed to kill any Targaryen he can. Exactly, "any Targaryen he can"… He hasn't been able to touch Maegelle since Tywin Lannister took her to Casterly Rock and she was under his care for the next seventeen years, raised to be against her real family. Even her changed name is to make her realize who she should be. But will she listen to it? After all, she had spent her entire life with the murderers of her family…
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xxpeppermintxx109 · 8 months
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“a princess she was, but a girl all the same; and was it truly so terrible for a girl to simply be just a girl? why couldn’t she have a childhood like all the rest? why couldn’t she read stories and dream of knights and love whomever she wished? why couldn’t she be happy too?”
- rhaenyra, act ii, tdod
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ser arthur dayne may have sworn his sword and life to his king, but it was the sweet princess he swore his heart to. some whispered not even the stranger themself could break such a promise. how cruel the gods can be.
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always a melancholic prince, rhaegar seemed to create grief itself when none could find the silver princess. his sister. his twin. he loved her, and she swore she loved him. and yet, gone. dead, he thought she must be. and madness would follow.
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appointed by the mad king himself, jaime lannister was her guard, if only to ensure she never left the red keep again. the last time any had seen the dragon princess and the young lion together, there was no love lost between them. what reason could the king ever have to worry? young jaime shadowed rhaenyra’s every step, but he was just a knight of the kingsguard, and she was just a lone princess.
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thelustybraavosimaid · 4 months
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The dark colour of the crown prince’s armour seemed to both absorb and reflect the sunlight.
Arthur stood in silence after Rhaegar marched up the winding stairs to reunite with the Lady Lyanna. Many minutes passed, and he sat waiting outside the tower with Ser Oswell, half-listening to the prince's muffled conversation while the other knight sharpened his sword in silence with a whetstone. Lord Commander Gerold practiced his swings with deadly grace, whirling and parrying imaginary foes.
The Dornish sun was treacherous. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, glancing down at milkglass-bladed Dawn resting in resplendence at his hip. A part of him wanted to use it, to cut down the Usurper and defend his prince to the death if needed, but Rhaegar forbade it, assigning him here.
He must see the plan through. He must.
Arthur tapped at his armoured leg with his fingertips, awaiting news of the war. Ravens came to the tower of joy oft enough, he supposed, but information of the usurper’s rebellion was not as detailed as the Dayne would have liked. Whatever knowledge came through, though, Rhaegar made sure that Lyanna knew much and more. He always made sure to ease any worry she had.
It had been longer than Arthur expected when he finally saw the familiar black armour and ruby-crusted dragon sigil pause in front of him. He craned his head, purple staring into an even darker shade, and saw the raw determination boiling underneath Rhaegar's gaze. He must have been half-weary, yet his outward disposition was so calm and composed. How much of it was a show?
“Have you heard more, my prince?” Arthur found himself asking.
“My cousin moves on us faster than expected. The time has come for me to meet him and put an end to this nonsense.” Arthur followed him to his black destrier, as dark as his own armour. Rhaegar stared at his helm tied to his horse’s side, running long fingertips over the red-painted dragon heads at the top.
“What would you have me do, Rhaegar?”
“I still need you, Ser Oswell, and Ser Gerold here, dear friend.” Those were not the words he truly wanted to hear, but he must obey the king. “I must go alone to meet our army. I need you to continue guarding Lyanna and the babe.”
“And what did she say?”
Rhaegar smiled. “Only that if I do not return, she would ride off herself and hunt for me.”
“A hard ride with a belly as large as hers, surely.” Ser Arthur had felt the babe himself, the strong kicks shifting her stomach, hitting his palms. She seemed as strong as ever, though, and he found himself growing accustomed to the fiery young she-wolf.
“It’s Lyanna,” the prince laughed, clasping Arthur on the back. “I must listen. If I don’t, I fear she really will do it.”
Arthur gave a bow. “Of course.”
In one swift movement, Rhaegar was atop his horse, donning his helm. Indigo rested on Arthur again as he rose his visor.
“Arthur, my friend,” his iron-toned voice was muffled only slightly, “the babe is close. Should I fail to return before he is born, head to King’s Landing with Lya. Bring her home to me.”
You will return here. Arthur decided not to tempt fate, and bowed again. “Your wish is my will, my prince.”
The corners of Rhaegar’s eyes crinkled before he stared forward and rode off, kicking up sand and dust in his wake.
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greenhikingboots · 2 years
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A Rabbit Hole of Fan Theories - The Faceless Man, the Elder Brother, and More
[I posted nearly 5,000 words about fan theories over on r/Citadel. I need people to discuss these ideas with me or brain is going to explode. Please help!] Okay, so it started like this: I was thinking about how TWOW might go, more specifically how Robb’s letter legitimizing Jon and making him an heir might finally come into play. I was wondering what happened to the letter, which led me to this post. It makes a strong case for the letter being sent with the captain of Myraham to either White Harbor or Oldtown.
As for White Harbor, the post says Robb would have sent the letter there because Wyman Manderly, wealthy and loyal to the Starks, has the means necessary to “champion the contents of Robb’s letter.” That wasn’t enough to excite me, but I kept reading anyway.
As for Oldtown, Sam’s there now (more specifically at the Citadel), so Robb’s letter finding its way there would tie story lines together in an interesting way. Additionally, I’ve always found a certain scene from the show rather suspect. “A raven came from the Citadel. A white raven. Winter is here.” It’s a nice nod to House Stark’s words, and it gives a chance for Jon to bring up Ned. And maybe that’s all it was ever meant to be. But I don’t recall the show making mention of white ravens at any other point, so I thought, “Maybe this is also a nod to something that will happen in the books.”
With that in mind, I went searching for information about white ravens. In the ACAK prologue, there’s this: “They are larger than other ravens, and more clever, bred to carry only the most important messages. This one came to tell us that the Conclave has met, considered the reports and measurements made by maesters all over the realm, and declared this great summer done at last.”
I hate to make generalizations about the fandom, but there seems to be this idea that white ravens just announce the transition of seasons, but actually they announce “the most important messages,” and the transition of seasons is just one example. So that got me thinking that Robb would have wanted his letter to make it to the Citadel so that his legitimizing Jon was known far and wide. (For what it’s worth, I tried to find out if there was a precedent for this — if this is the sort of thing that white ravens are used for at any point in the story — but no luck. Still, I think the theory holds weight). [Read more here.]
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all-about-that-rec · 1 year
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Arthur Dayne/Jaime Lannister Characters: Arthur Dayne, Jaime Lannister, Rhaenys Targaryen Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Balerion the cat, Fluff, nothing bad happens to anyone ever, 5+1 Summary:
Rhaenys bonds with her favorite members of the Kingsguard, and they fall in love along the way.
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shieldmaidensfair · 11 months
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forbidden fruit, by shieldmaidens
La historia sigue a Daenora Harhten, también llamada Daenora de Tyrosh, una intérprete, traductora y dama de compañía de Mellario de Norvos y, más tarde, de la princesa Elia Martell de Dorne. Los hechos se desarrollan antes de y durante la Rebelión de Robert.
Interés romántico: Arthur Dayne.
Próximamente en Wattpad y Ao3.
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ode-to-fury · 2 years
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what do you think would have happened had y/n gone with arthur dayne? i think it would have been pretty interesting to further see your take on the tower of joy, her changing relationship with arthur, and maybe even the tension between her and her sister.
Honestly? She probably would have convinced him to go back and help Lyanna and Ned the second she heard about Rickard and Brandon, and any attempt by him to stop her would have resulted in her leaving him.
If he had gone with her to help? Idk one guy probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference ya know, but maybe he could have saved some of the Northern lords for Ned and maybe could have told them earlier about Lyanna and where Rhaegar was taking her although now that I think about it Lyanna only went to the Tower of Joy because Rhaegar and Arthur were so close, so how interesting would it have been if they didn’t have that option?
After the Rebellion? Ned would have wanted to execute him, Robert would have wanted to execute him, he probably would have refused to serve either of them… though perhaps they could have been convinced by y/n to spare him and let them leave again, but… would she have been happy away from King’s Landing and her remaining family and the only friend she’s ever had? That’s up to the reader I suppose.
Would HE have been happy stripped of that white cloak and any chance to earn glory or fight? That’s where I love characters like him, or at least my hc of him because I think even if he had gotten everything he’d wanted, Rhaegar on the throne, Y/n safe and with him, freedom, whatever… he truly wouldn’t have ever been happy without that sword in his hand, because so mich of who he is, who all these men are is tied to that, you know? Not to mention the fact that it would mean fighting against everything he had spent his whole life believing in, protecting, bleeding for. How much would he resent having to give that up and how much would he take that resentment out unwittingly on the woman he loves?
So I suppose the reader can decide… would they have lived in blissful peace somewhere in Dorne far away from everything both of them cared about, or would both of them eventually realise that that isn’t who they are, that they couldn’t hide away the things that make them THEM any more than anyone else, and trying will just breed resentment. Would love conquer all, or would they realise love can only do so much if everything else doesn’t fit quite right?
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hemm-hux · 2 years
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Ned would have kneeled, she thought. Benjen would have kneeled.
But Ned and Benjen were loyal, and did what they were told. Lyanna did too. She stayed in Winterfell and prayed for them. While Brandon clung to pride, she had to forgo it.
They made me kneel, brother, she said to Brandon’s dying form. Then they made me marry the man who slayed you.
It was strange, to taste resentment alongside sorrow and alongside love. It was made worse by her own guilt, born from the intimacy of her own betrayal. A man killed her brother, and she weds him and beds him anyways. What did that say about her? What did that mean for her own pride?
You died with your pride, brother, but I must live without mine.
—Hold On To Your Heart by lyannas (crossfirehurricane)
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katshuya · 26 days
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If Elia and lyanna's positions were reversed
If Rhaegar left his willful, tomboyish, and not like other girl wife for assumingly more feminine, Elia, would the reaction be the same?
Would R x L shippers say it's not their fault and we shouldn't blame R or E because R's marriage was forced?
That we just hate Elia being a girl who chooses who she wants to be with?
Or was it going to be a man who can't bear a woman being independent and strong and feeling challenged because Lyanna has a strong personality?
Would they say that Lyanna wouldn't mind as long as her child is heir and she gets to be queen and get rid of her jerk husband? or would it be humiliating for her?
Or maybe they would say Lyanna wouldn't mind because she is Brandon's sister as Elia is Oberyn's sister, and she is too independent her rough northern self doesn't care if her husband left her ? since she absolutely doesn't love him and because complicated relationships mean zero attraction/love and zero attempts to love each other
Would they say that it is alright because Rhaegar and Elia can be together? or are they going to blame Elia's Dornish nature for thinking she can be with a married man because she thinks nothing is wrong with having bastards nor being with a married man? Are they not going to slut shame Elia?
Would they blame Lyanna's impulsive and more tough self for Rhaegar leaving her? like how it's justified that since Elia isn't as fiery or healthy as Lyanna for Rhaegar to leave her? or would they blame Elia for seducing Rhaegar with her more feminine and more allegedly submissive AND her seductive Dornish nature?
Would they write fanfiction about how Rhaegar prefers more feminine delicate desert flower than willful impulsive winter rose like how they do with Elia? Or maybe in their fanfictions, Elia's thrones would represent the stings she caused for Lyanna?
Would they accept the North not being angry and hateful with the Targaryens like how the Dornish shouldn't because the Dornish understand true love and don't mind mistress or second wife at all in all scenarios?
Would people think Elia was kidnapped and raped? or are they going to be sure that it was consensual since Elia was adult and the sterotypical seductive Dornish, who doesn't mind mistresses and taking married man as lover?
Would they be it's fine because True Love! ? Or would they be furious for Lyanna because she helped and gave Rhaegar everything only to end up overshadowed by Elia?
Would they accept Lyanna being fine woth Rhaegar having Elia because Lyanna was forced to marry Rhaegar and she and him have a very understanding paltonic love to the point Lyanna care not for her dignity nor all that she gave because she only cares for her child to be king and herself to be queen? Maybe Arthur Dayne would be Lyanna's lover in this scenario, so everything is ok?
Would they doubt that Rhaella ever cared deeply for Lyanna and Ashara was actully never close to her and just one of many handmaidens, as they do with Elia and say it is because Lyanna is so minor and just a plot device for the North to hate the Lannisters like how they did this with Elia and Dorne?
Or perhaps Lyanna would be fine because she wants Elia too?
Would the fandom be as apologic with Elia as they are with Lyanna in case she eloped willingly and said that she is totally faultless? and don't hold her accountable because "girl's girl" and "don't put woman against woman," so no accountability? Or that Elia was manipulated by Rhaegar?
And Rhaegar, would the fandom see him as blameless/not that guilty as they see him when he left Elia? Would they also sympathize with the melancholic prince and say: let the poor man have a break and be with his true love! ?
is it a work of art and star-crossed lovers between Rhaegar and Elia in their eyes now? And as someone said, a progressiveness?
Or Would they criticize George for doing this to the cool willful not like other girls Lyanna?
Anyone associated with polygamous culture knows how unrealistic it is for Elia to accept a second wife without being upset about it and has no other choice. And we all know that most will not just be unbothered by it. Women in polygamous/polymorous culture do/would not simply accept it, and when they do, they aren't happy and ok with it. We are humans, and the Dornish are humans, too.
That's just in George's head.
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Exiled
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Pairing(s): Arthur Dayne x Reader, implied Rhaegar Targaryen x Lyanna Stark
Warnings: canon character death
Words: 3605
Story Request
For as long as you lived, you would never forget the guttural pain and heartbreak you felt when you found out what had happened to Elia and her children. Those poor, sweet kids whose lives had only really begun. Gone. Snuffed out so easily.
Elia's only Dornish lady-in-waiting that was permitted to attend her in Westeros, you hadn't seen her since the start of Robert's Rebellion. You'd been separated from your lady and her children; Aerys forcing the three to be his hostages. To ensure the loyalty of your people, specifically the hot-blooded Prince Oberyn Martell.
Locked away in the Red Keep, she was forbidden any of her familiar help. Her displaced attendants including yourself were immediately kicked out of the Keep to fend for yourselves. Other pedigreed young ladies simply fled to their family's estates while they were still able to leave the city. You were the only one to stay. How could you leave when Elia was alone and scared. You couldn't comfort her physically, so you manifest your loving energy in the hopes that it would reach your princess.
With everyone leaving the capital before the war could breach the walls of King's Landing, it was easy to find vacancies at an inn. Your room was nothing compared to the one you recently lived in but it was cheap and faced the intimidating structure of the Red Keep.
From afar, you kept an eye on her. All around you though, unrest had a choke hold on King's Landing. Skirmishes could be heard below your window. You made sure to keep a knife next to you at all times and rarely left your meager trappings.
The longer you remained, the more dangerous it became. Robert Baratheon's forces were finding dramatic success. Rumor in the bar downstairs was that it wouldn't be long until his army came knocking at the King's Gate.
Then came the Battle of the Trident. You felt sick not because Prince Rhaegar was killed in combat with Robert. You feared for what would become of Elia now.
Robert’s army would indeed be upon the capital in a matter of days. If things continued to go his way, he might want to abolish not just Rhaegar Targaryen, but also those who were close to the Silver Prince. That meant baby Aegon, young Rhaenys and their mother. All considered Targaryens through either blood or marriage.
There was nothing you could do. You had no power or influence in the courts of Westeros. Your ties were with Dorne, that was all anyone knew of you.
The following night all three would be murdered in the most gruesome fashion by Tywin Lannister’s men. Murder felt like too light of a word for what Gregor Clegane did. An animal wasn’t even capable of the brutality he demonstrated.
Horrific details came out quickly when the throne was claimed by Roberto Baratheon. Their corpses, even those of Rhaenys and Aegon, were perversely presented to King Robert by Tywin Lannister. A show of his fealty.
More than you could ever bear, you came to the swift decision to leave the whole of Westeros. Going back to Dorne was not far enough for you. Still too close to the land that had taken a gentle soul like Elia from the many who loved her.
You sold what little jewelry you had, you boarded a small vessel from Gulltown. You didn’t care where it was going, distance was what mattered.
***
Arthur Dayne, Dorne’s Sword of the Morning, lifts the toddler from his bed; positioning him comfortably in the crook of his arm. A domestic life had never been in the cards for him before. Perhaps once upon a time, before the war, before he took his vows that sworn him into the Kingsguard. Forbidding him from taking a wife or having children. That didn’t stop him from envisioning an imaginary family if he had taken a different path. In those daydreams, hiss wife constantly had thee face of (y/n), one of Princess Elia’s ladies-in-waiting.
(Y/n) was one of those enigmas that would show up in his life every once in a while. Short occurrences that never satisfied Arthur for he was smitten. Each time they would see one another, she took a large piece of Arthur’s heart.
When Elia left Dorne, (y/n) went with her. All the better for Arthurl; he’d be able to see her almost every day if she moved to the Red Keep.
She returned every gentlemanly gesture he babe with a coy flutter of her lashes in reciprocation.
Sometimes they would even sneak away from their charges for privacy. Nothing too salacious. Holding of hands. The lingering of fingers. Innocent enough, but each rendezvous had his heart titillated in excitement.
Feelings of desire or romance were never discussed. Both of them had their own duties, someone to watch over for and couldn’t afford love to get in the way. That was a boundary neither dared to cross.
(Y/n) didn’t come from a highly influential family. Here house was a small one, but for being handpicked as Elia’s lady-in-waiting, her family revered her. This elevated status she found herself in would ensure better picks for her future husband. Ultimately that would be her fate as any woman in their society. Dorne was undoubtedly more foreword thinking than Westeros, but no matter what, the best occupation for any woman would always be wife and breeder.
Arthur tried deceiving himself on a daily basis that he would be able to relinquish (y/n) when the time came for her to wed. Fooled into thinking that he could ever let her go.
Now though, he found himself the caretaker of a small boy who hadn’t even reached his second nameday. Rhaegar’s secret son with Lyanna Stark. This baby that posed a threat to Robert’s position if he ever discovered his existence.
He gave him the strong, simple name of Jon. Partially in memory of Jon Connington. There was still no news to be heard of what become of Griff.
Arthur, Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower’s had been given a special task in defending the entrance to the Tower of Joy. More specifically, protecting Lyanna Stark. Her screams could be heard penetrating past the thick stone walls, rendering the men who guarded her feel a heavy pit in their stomach. None of them could comprehend the pain that went into childbirth. It was not something they would wish upon their worst enemy from the sounds of it.
The moment the babe was pushed out of her, Lyanna Stark died.
The knights who were gathered acknowledged that the newborn couldn't stay in Westeros. Especially not while Robert was reigning king. Being the youngest of the three and the best swordsman in the country, Arthur was chosen to be the one to get the child far away from Westeros and it's court. Only they knew of the baby's existence and each would take the secret to their grave.
Arthur and Jon hopped on the next available ship that was crossing the sea to Essos. That was where all the exiles went to after all.
He vowed to protect Rhaegar's son and raise him to be a good man with the hopes that he'd lead a happy and prosperous life. This boy had only Arthur in the entire world.
Jon cooed, bringing Arthur back to the here and now. His smile broadens as he jostled the toddler in his arms. A giggle emits from Jon's gummy mouth.
"Shall we go out for some fresh air, my little lord?" In the security of their home, Arthur liked calling him 'little lord'. The title made the baby laugh in return. If fate had been kinder, he would have been a princeling of the Seven Kingdoms. Jon took after his mother Lyanna, her Stark genetics overwhelming any Targaryen characteristics he would have received from Rhaegar. Dark curls framed his rosy cheeks and gray eyes engulf the world around him with curiosity.
With a sweet, chubby hand, Jon grips at the front of Arthur's tunic as both leave through their front door. Outside was the quiet hill village located on the outer rim of Selhorys' gates. Both Arthur and Jon preferred the quiet country life opposed to the hustle and bustle of big cities.
On occasion though they would have to make the walk to the city. Arthur tried not to make it a habit on the off chance someone recognized either himself or his familial sword 'Dawn'. Far into the vast continent of Essos, Arthur's worries were considerably eased but his guard would always be up.
From their house to Selhorys, they made the venture entirely on foot. Arthur didn't mind the workout. Jon, growing as fast as he was made for an excellent training partner. His weight really did help Arthur get a sweat going.
The market center was the only thing worth stepping into the city for. There, Arthur could find just about anything. Even the ingredients from Dorne he dearly missed. Plus he could find information on what become of not just Westeros after Robert's Rebellion, but what became of Dorne and Starfall. Were there any repercussions for the death of Princess Elia and her children? Surely they wouldn't let her death go unpunished even if it meant starting another war between Westeros and Dorne.
Jon's wide eyes aimlessly gawk at the crowded streets, not used to being around so many people that his little lips wobble like he's about to cry.
Arthur holds him closer to his chest. "I agree. But you'll learn one day that sometimes you have to do things that you don't want to do."
Like leaving (y/n) without any form of a goodbye.
She must have thought he was dead. (y/n) had been stuck in King's Landing, so far away from the Tower of Joy.
Arthur spent many sleepless nights wondering if she was still even alive or perished during the siege of King's Landing. While everyone knew the gory details of Elia and her children's murder, no one knew the fate of her lady-in-waiting.
A whisper from his heart told Arthur that she was alive; somewhere out there. Hopefully she was happy and found someone who treated her like a treasure. (y/n) deserved all the happiness in the world.
He turned a corner and was hit by the sound of her long desired voice tinkling from one of the stalls selling their goods.
Arthur stopped in his path and did a double take, unwilling to believe it as her until he saw her face himself.
Her head and hair was hidden by a poppy red beaded veil. The sun catching on one of the jewels sewn into the delicate fabric, nearly blinding him and reducing Arthur to squint his lilac eyes.
She's laughing at something the stall owner said. Her signature laugh. One he had heard many times yet never grew tired of it. Arthur heard through all the phases of her life. From a young girl at the age of nine to ten and two when she was experiencing her moon's first blood to standing by Elia's side at the sweet age of ten and six. Up to the last time he saw her, he remembered her laugh.
Immense self control was required to not grab the woman and spin her around.
A tanned hand reaches out, handing the merchant a few coins before gathering her goods and finally turning on her heel only to bump straight into Arthur.
(y/n) hadn't aged a day although a weary energy lingered in her aura.
The alarm on her face was palpable for Arthur felt the exact same. Standing there staring at one another, little Jon was the one to break the sharp silence with his baby babbles.
(y/n) registers the baby in his arms. He wanted to tell her that Jon wasn't his but she was already speeding away.
"(y/n)!!" He ran after her, trying not to upset Jon too much. Arthur refused to let her go, not when he finally knew that she was alive.
She’d always been a fast runner. Could have outrun him too until a cart filed to the brim with wooden crates of fresh produce cut her off abruptly.
In her attempt to stop before the cart hit her, she stumbled backwards and lost her balance.
With his free hand Arthur stopped her descent to the ground.
She stared up at him owlishly before righting herself back to her feet. (Y/n) took two wide steps away from him and stabbed him with a menacing glare. Arthur didn’t understand why she was being this evasive. Both were alive and should be happy to reunite.
“I don’t understand.” Arthur quietly said.
Fury flames her face. Lips curl into a snarl, each word paining her a she hissed out “You. You left us defenseless. You and Rhaegar an everyone else who served under him and knew of his adultery.”
He was at a loss for all you foamed out was true. Rhaegar was the entire cause of Robert’s Rebellion. Why Elia had to die.
Tears she refused to shed in front of him bubbled on here bottom lashes. (Y/n) would never tarnish her dignity while a man was present.
“Stay away from me.” An order before she swiftly melts into the crowd.
*
Arthur was never known for giving up easily. He may no longer have an illustrious title to get him what he needed instantaneously, but he still knew how to get information. All major cities worked relatively in the same way.
Days after, he would leave Jon with the elderly neighbor couple who lived right next to him and make the walk to the city. He hid mainly in the shadows in case he had spooked (y/n) into coming back.
He found the same merchant she had been speaking with. According to him, (y/n) must have been living in the city for about two months now. She stopped by his stall every other week for a bag of sweet, candied nuts. But (y/n) never spoke about her past.
“She’s a nice girl.” The Merchant concludes. “Always asks how my wife and daughter are. She even gave my wife flowers when I told her that she was feeling ill.”
That was all he was able to give Arthur. That was plenty for him to work off of. Three days of sleuthing and he caught another moment with her. Her name was the only words he was able to get out before (y/n) fled again.
This continued for two more weeks until one day he found (y/n) waiting for him at the same market place, arms crossed in front of her chest to protect herself.
She began speaking before Arthur could open his mouth. “You’re not going to stop pestering me, that much is clear. So hurry up and say whatever you need to. But after that I guarantee you will never find me in Selhorys again.”
He couldn’t ruin this opportunity. Arthur looked around them, pedestrians paying no minds to their quarreling but he was still nervous of eyes and ears reporting back to Robert. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
Warily (y/n) followed him to where he leads her into a small storefront that sold specialty spices, coffee beans and teas from around the known world. Upstairs are balcony alcoves where special guests could enjoy brews that weren’t on the menu downstairs.
He must have been a very special guest for how happy the proprietor was to see him. Immediately they’re taken to an empty alcove covered by a lovely mauve curtain.
Waiting for their drinks, Arthur thoroughly examined her . It was clear from her posture that she was ready to leave at any minute. Wanting nothing more than to get away from Arthur.
Most of the talking would have to come from him.
Drinks were brought to them and this granted the former knight a moment to collect his thoughts.
(Y/n)’s finger nails drum against the sides of the cup before bringing it to her lips. Her gaze didn’t waver from Arthur. She must have had plenty of questions herself.
“I’m sorry.”
The bottom of her cup clatters against it’s saucer and she pursed her lips in agitation. She didn’t want to hear anymore of his apologies.
So he attempts to back track to teh very moment he left the Red Keep with Rhaegar, not telling a soul where he would be going. “When we first left it was truly because we were planning a coup against Aerys, But then. . . Then Lyanna came in. There was no rape or kidnapping like everyone said-“
“I don’t care about Lyanna Stark.” She spat out the northern girl’s name like a curse. “I don’t care what reason you have. You and Rhaegar left the rest of us for Aerys.”
Her knuckles turn white as she clenched down tightly with her jaw. “He betrayed Elia and Rhaenys and Aegon and those who loved her. For some girl he hardly knew. Did he really think no one else would face repercussions for his actions? How could you follow that man after all the death he has caused?”
His drink curdled in his stomach, the previously delicious taste in his mouth turned rancid. The Silver Prince, while he was alive, had been his closest friend. He took the sting of (y/n) condemning him personally but didn’t argue with her. Again she was right about Rhaegar. Rhaegar had been selfish. He’d gone behind Arthur and Griff’s back to secretly wed Lyanna Stark. Countless times Arthur tired himself out from trying to dissuade Rhaegar from the match. He was married to Elia after all.
"I wanted to believe in the good in him." Arthur quietly murmured. "He was my prince and my friend after all."
"What was I to you then? Was I not worth you sticking around in King's Landing?" (y/n) heaved.
His breathing is ragged. "You. . . Oh (y/n)-"
She furiously shook her head. "Do you know how terrified we all were? We didn't know if Aerys was going to have us killed just because of association. All of Elia's entourage was shut out of the Keep. We didn't know what was going to happen to ourselves let alone to Elia and her children."
Pain struck him as he couldn't imagine what she had gone through. What (y/n) had to do to get out of the capital in her self exile. Arthur had failed her greatly. He hated himself for it. As much as Rhaegar had been selfish, Arthur was just the same.
"Do you remember your first event as Elia's lady-in-waiting?"
For a moment her brows pinch together in a frown but she hesitantly nods. "Of course. It was the greatest honor."
"I've never forgotten how you looked that day. You were sitting straight, so prim and proper that I forgot it was Elia who was the princess. I. . . I couldn’t take my eyes off of you." Arthur dashes his tongue across his dry bottom lip. “(Y/n), you have to know that I’ve been in love with you from the very beginning.”
(Y/n) scoffed. “Of course I’ve known that you idiot. Why else would either of us find asinine reasons to sneak away. You weren’t exactly subtle either. Simpering boy that you were.”
“Ha. . . I haven’t heard you call me that since we were kids.” The smile that peaked through shyly couldn’t be helped. Secretly he’d liked it when she called him a simpering boy. Insurmountable affection were thick in each word when she said them.
Closing her eyes, she releases an exhausted sigh. She wrests her chin on her palm, her elbow planted on the table. A brief quiet moment rolled by before (y/n) looked at Arthur again. “There was never stopping Rhaegar once he got an idea in his head. Elia told me that after she heard about Rhaegar abducting the northern girl. She was devastated but. . . She’d felt something was off with him after the birth of Aegon.”
Arthur knowingly nods. “Lord Whent’s great tourney at Harrenhal.”
“Elia noticed a change in him after he came back from the great tourney.” (Y/n) draws a sip from her cup, mouth growing dry.
“That marked the beginning of the end.”
She stared at him under long lashes. The faintest hint of a smile. “Yes.”
Hours were spent catching up. Neither (y/n) or Arthur were the same people they used to be. Both changed from their experience during and after the war. Yet that connection they shared was still there.
Until she brings up the matter of Jon. Right away Arthur explains that he is not his actual son to clear up any misunderstandings she would have. It may have been easier just having (y/n) believe that it was his child. But he wanted to be truthful and never tell her any lies.
Her face became stoic once he told her of the baby's parents. Jon was evidence of Rhaegar's betrayal. Natural for her to be conflicted over the fact, both he and Jon were a package deal now. Arthur would never leave Jon to the care of anyone else. If (y/n) did want to continue a life with him, she would have to get used to Jon.
(y/n) pondered over what he'd divulged and Arthur feared she would reject the both of them.
"Well. . . I suppose we'll raise Jon to be a better man than Rhaegar ever was."
Arthur's eyes widen in pure shock. (y/n) grinned in return.
The duo of exiles became a trio that day.
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yourstruly-sephie · 1 year
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
𝐀 𝐁 𝐫 𝐞 𝐰 𝐢 𝐧 𝐠 𝐅 𝐮 𝐫 𝐲
𝟐𝟕𝟖 𝐀𝐂 | 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦’ 𝐬 𝐄𝐧𝐝
The morning was haze and gloom—a slight drizzle filling the empty air. The coldness stuck to the skin, trailing damp kisses that left a person breathless. The fog was dense, making it hard for the naked eye to spot anything coming from the distance. The time was a quarter past seven, yet it was too dark to be a good morning.
Nyrella walked through the disheartening garden of Griffin's Roost. It was small and bare. Nothing but weeds and wilted flora decorated the space. The dark moist dirt was scattered everywhere on the pathway. Shards of tiny rocks and pebbles were a common motif through and throughout. The whole place was a sad thing, which added well to the mystery of the morning.
"Let us come inside," Arthur's rasped, a plea in his early morning voice, "the hearth is warm and hot tea waiting for you."
Nyrella was a step ahead of the worrying Kingsguard. She walked with her head held up and her hands comfortably positioned behind the small of her back. "I'd rather stay here for a little longer," she spoke softly.
"You've barely recovered," Arthur tried again to persuade her, "I do not want for you to be bedridden again."
The Valyrian princess let out a warm breath into the cool air, creating a fleeting mist reminiscent of clouds. She gracefully pivoted on the heels of her shoes to face her entire being towards Arthur. A small lipped smile formed on her pink lips. "Does it worry you that much?" Her head tilted as her lavender irises searched into his violet ones.
The Kingsguard was tight-lipped, keeping his word to himself. There was fear ever present, that if he were to answer her question, only the wrong words would escape him. His hand fidgeted with Dawn's hilt— a way to calm his nervousness.
Nyrella took Arthur's averting gaze and sudden quiet demeanor as an answer. She sighed once again. Her feet took a few steps forwards until she was beside him. She linked their arms together. "Another walk around this garden, then we can go inside," she said, shaking the wet dirt from the bottom of her gown.
"As you wish princess," Arthur replied as he led the way. He kept his stare on Nyrella, watching her intently as she strolled beside him. Her gaze was looking out into the distance, observing her foggy surroundings. She swayed to the movement of the winds as it pushed her long silver locks behind her shoulders.
"The weather is not kind to the flora here," Nyrella pointed out, frowning at the dead bush of roses across from her.
Arthur lifted his open palm in the air, "I fear the cruelty will continue. It is going to rain by the looks of those dark clouds."
"I long for sun again," a part of her reminiscence the way the burning rays hit her skin. She loved the warmth, and she missed it more and more everyday she was in the Stormlands.
"So do I," Arthur agreed. Dorne was unbearably hot through the year with little to no rain. The scorching sun took more lives than steel during the climax of the summer seasons. However, Arthur would take those chances than the dampness and gruel of the Stormlands. He was not used to so much rain and mud in his life. Dorne was his home, and it will always be.
Nyrella hummed softly, "I would like to visit Dorne one day. I've only been when I was a babe."
"I am sure Dorne would appreciate your visit. The people are generous and open unlike some in King's Landing," the Kingsguard replied.
"I would like to visit your home," she told him.
Arthur looked down at her, catching her gaze. The way her eyes glimmered reminded him of the way moonstones shine during the peak of the afternoon.
"There are better places in Dorne to visit such as the water gardens," answered with a small smile.
Nyrella shook her head feverishly, "And I am told that Starfall is a place to visit when in Dorne." Her voice went higher towards the end of her sentence, which was paired with a cheeky grin of sorts.
"And who told you that?" Arthur matched her playfulness. He leaned closer to her, wearing his smile in his eyes.
"Rhaegar did," Nyrella answered, "he saidthat when he was on tour, he thought Starfall was the most brilliant place he saw. He said that the castle glowed like a million stars during golden hour."
"Did he also mention that is how he and I met?" Arthur glanced at Nyrella, who wore knitted brows of confusion and shook her head in disagreement.
"I was ten and seven, your brother ten and five. We saw each other at the welcoming, however did not talk until the next day. I was training at the courtyard with my cousin. Your brother wanted to spar with me, telling me not to hold back," Arthur recounted.
"Why did he never told me this?" Nyrella muttered as she listened intently.
"To save his pride," Arthur grinned, "your brother was flat on the ground after a minute of sparring. I was afraid he had a temper, but Rhaegar laughed it off. He praised my talents over the course of his stay."
"And now, you are here," Nyrella used her hand to signal to Arthur's spot, "the greatest knight to have ever existed."
Arthur nodded, looking into the distance. Everything that he ever wanted came true, his dreams became real. He hoped his luck would remain constant because he still had dreams he wanted to come true.
"Nyrella—"
"Over there!!" Nyrella pointed out with her outstretched index. Arthur snapped his focus at the figures on the contrasting pathway.
"Rhaegar and Miles!" Nyrella excitedly yelled as she extended her arm upwards, waving at them. The pair snapped at the sudden call. They waved in return as they changed their direction to walk towards them.
Arthur straightened his stance when he caught Rhaegar's gaze. There was a silent exchange of words in a span of a glance. There was something in the Prince's eyes that made Arthur on edge.
"The maester said you should be recovering?" Rhaegar asked before leaning over to kiss Nyrella's temple.
"And what help would that be on my mental health, cooped up in my room without company? I'd rather be here," she responded.
Rhaegar hummed, resting his hands behind his back, "then we should all walk together since we are all here."
"You three should," Myles said, "I am excusing myself."
Nyrella furrowed her brows, "Is there somewhere you need to be?" She tried to find his gaze, but he refused to meet them.
"I remembered that Jon needed my help for tomorrow's journey to Storm's End," He closed.
"Then I'll see you for lunch. I've told the kitchen to pre—," Nyrella smiled.
"That won't be possible," Myles interrupted. "I have other arrangements to attend."
"Oh," Nyrella's voice trailed.
Myles nodded, bowing his head to the fair-haired princess, "My apologies truly princess. If you will excuse me." Myles turned around in a swift movement from the trio, walking back to the back entrance of the castle.
"Shall we go on then with the stroll sister," Rhaegar lightly touched Nyrella's elbow. She faced him, observing his other hand signaling to the pathway in front of them.
"What's wrong?" The Prince followed with a question, seeing the troubling look on Nyrella's face. He noticed that she was fidgeting with her hands again.
"Myles and I always have lunch together..."
"You cannot expect him to be on your beck and call," Rhaegar linked their arms as he urged her forward.
Nyrella bit her lip, "Yes, I know...but I felt an uneasiness from him."
"You worry too much Ny," Rhaegar pushed away her growing concern. "Everything is how they are meant to be."
.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.
The sound of leather boots against the nasty coloring of mud became the unwanted substitute to the song of birds. The air was rigid and cold, turning any exposed flesh a bruising red. The stench of human feces mixed with the seawater could bring a grown man into a high of ecstasy, and later, in consequence vomit their stomachs out. The sky, a permanent gray with heavy dark clouds, threatening to brew a dangerous storm that would fester for hours, days even. These were the promises the mighty seat of House Baratheon, Storm's End, condoned their guests, more so even their most esteemed guests.
Nyrella stood at the courtyard, gawking at the mythical castle. She had heard various variations of the construction of the centuries-old seat. Some rooted in magic, and some rooted in not-so-interesting lore compared to the prospects of magic's involvement. Her fragile mind could not wrap itself around the question of how a castle that seemed to be built with stone and brick could stay in a place known for the ravaging storms that ripped apart anything into smithereens. It was impressive, lurking in mystery.
"Are you doing well, your Grace?" The lord of house Baratheon cut through her daydream, bringing back Nyrella to her senses. She could tell by the raise of his brow that it was the second time he was reciting his question.
She blinked a few times, taking in the old and worn-out face of the storm lord. His dark hair was the color of the obsidian gemstones she wore as jewelry, but there were visible graying and stark strands of whites against the darkness of his hair. She conjured it was due to stress of his position and being cousins with the Mad King. Wrinkles were strategically drawn on to tell his age and mold him to look strong, tough as he aged. His eyes were the clearing of his dark features. They were tired but held a kindness.
"All is well, my lord, but I cannot say the same thing for the weather," Nyrella glanced above her to the growing clouds. The lord followed her gaze, humming to himself as he wore an unfazed expression.
"You must deem yourself lucky princess," he spoke softly, "you did not arrive during the middle of a storm."
"And if that were the case, my entitlements would still have forced me to purge through even the most dangerous of weather," Nyrella turned her head to look at the side of Rhaegar's sharp features. She had to refrain herself from rolling her lavender eyes and sticking her tongue at him. She could not taint her reputation in front of the lord of the Stormlands and his wife, who was in casual conversation with her brother.
Steffon Baratheon hummed again, "I do fear the tourney will be pushed back a day or so, if there is heavy rain and thunder tonight." And by the sight of the rapid growth of black clouds, his words became truer every passing moment.
This also meant, it would be more days Nyrella would have to stay in the damp, cold, and muddled conditions of Storm's End. One she was not too happy with.
"We have prepared your room, Princess Nyrella. They used to be your great grandaunt's quarters," a sweeter voice replaced Lord Steffon's rough baritone. The Lady of the Stormlands, Cassana of house Estermont, brightly smiled showing the top row of her teeth and the significant indentation of the wrinkles around her mouth. She was a beautiful lady with striking green eyes, one's that none of her sons inherited—a true shame for Nyrell loved her eyes.
Nyrella reflected the welcoming generosity with her own smile, "thank you Lady Cassana, that is very giving of you and Lord Steffon."
"It is our pleasure. Rhaelle Targaryen would have wanted the honor to have you stay in her space. There is no one more deserving than you," Lady Cassana gently placed a comforting hand on Nyrella's arm, squeezing lightly for assurance.
Nyrella nodded her head. There were no words to convey her gratitude, hoping her actions would speak louder. She was honored to stay in Rhaelle's quarters, to be in a space where a strong Targaryen lived and breathed. Yet, there was melancholy. The last time she stayed in Storm's End, Rhaelle was still alive in her old age but still stronger as she was in her youth. Nyrella remembered her smelling like the sourness of citrus.
"You have been kind to us," Rhaegar spoke for the both of them as Nyrella kept quiet and in her own thoughts. "We have nothing to offer but our deepest gratitude," his voice was like velvet to the ears. The charm rubbed off the lord and lady, who wore warm expressions to the duo siblings.
"Please, I insist you and your sister inside where the hearth burns hotter than Dorne's sun," Steffon stepped back to gesture his hand to the grand entrance to the castle.
"Husband," Cassana called out, "allow our eldest son, Robert, to escort the princess to her quarters."
"Oh. That would not be necessary," Nyrella tried to decline, "I am more than glad to have a servant show me the location."
"Nonsense. I cannot allow a servant to be your escort, it is a disrespect to you. My eldest will happily be your guide," Steffon glanced over to his shoulder to where three young men stood shoulder to shoulder beside each other. They all were spitting copies of their father, sharing everything down to their footwear.
The taller of the bunch, and the stronger built came forward by the subtle nod from lord Steffon. It was hard for Nyrella to show the distaste of seeing Robert. The heir of the Stormlands walked with his chest puffed out, taking as much space around him to show his importance. He wore a permanent smirk on his chiseled face that made women swoon at him. But not Nyrella, she wished she could punch the smugness of him. He infuriated her.
"Princess," Robert took her hand in his, leaning his head low to peck the whites of her knuckles. Nyrella forced herself a painful smile.
"Lord Robert," she mumbled out, "I hope your ride from the Vale to Storm's End was forgiving."
The young lord hummed, scanning his eyes over her features. The last time he saw Nyrella was when she was a youngling, but now, it almost seemed his eyes deceived him. He cocked his head to the side, his grin growing by the second, "I would say it was, but I would be lying."
"I presume the weather was not kind as today."
"Oh, no. It was not the weather that made the journey difficult. It was the lack of a woman's touch."
Nyrella quickly retracted her hand from him. A nasty bile rose to her throat threatening to come out, tarnishing the well-polish doublet Robert wore. It was made clear to her that his womanizing ways have not changed.
"I suppose we should be on our way. Your father predicted the storm to come any moment," she declared. She turned her head around to search through the crowd behind her. "Arthur, come with us," she commanded over her shoulder.
Arthur was stationed beside Jon. They were in each other's company throughout the entirety at the courtyard as the dragon siblings were greeted by the family of stags. Arthur connected his gaze with Nyrella, bowing his head to her in agreement. Yet, in front of the corner of his eyes, he could see the heir of Lord Steffon reaching a hand for Nyrella's arm.
"That would not be necessary, princess. You do not need a kingsguard on our ventures it—"
"It would be my pleasure, princess," Arthur hastily came beside Nyrella, blocking Robert from laying a hand on her. He offered his arm, which Nyrella took almost immediately. "Show us the way my lord," Arthur said, gesturing for Robert to lead the way.
Robert forced a smile, "Of course. Follow me." He glared towards Arthur's direction before leading the way into the castle.
Once the Baratheon heir was far from earshot, Nyrella breathed out in relief. "I could bear to be alone with him," she looked up at Arthur. Her eyes were filled with gratitude.
Arthur smiled down at her, "I could not let you go with him alone. I see why Rhaegar has a distaste for the man."
"For his house sigil to be prey, he is a walking contradiction. There is a predator behind those eyes," Nyrella glanced to observe Robert's massive back. To her, he even looked like a predator.
Arthur leaned closer to Nyrella. His hot breath brushing the tip of her ears, "All you have to do is say the words."
"What words?" Nyrella responded, her eyelids fluttering at the warmth of his breath.
"To command me," Arthur answered, "to cut him down."
"You'll do that for me?" She hiccuped.
Arthur let out another hot breath on her ear. It made goosebumps all over her body. "Anything for you, princess."
.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.
Nyrella has never experienced a storm unlike no other at Storm's End. The windows rattled as thunder shook the foundations of the castle. The droplets of rain were falling fast like rocks hitting against glass. The flashes of lightning were loud, crackling through the darkness of the skies.
She held herself in her arms, observing the rain hitting her window. There was a feast in honor for her and Rhaegar's arrival, but she managed to slip through the cracks of loud drunken yells from men and the clinking sounds of goblets. She wanted to be in her own little space for just a moment.
"Your brother will start to worry about your absence," Arthur's voice echoed through the empty stone hall. He leaned against the wall, keeping his violet eyes on Nyrella's figure.
She scoffed, "then let him. I am not in the mood to talk to him or anyone else's."
"Is this your way of releasing me of my duty?" Arthur jested, pushing himself off the damp wall. Nyrella slightly turned her head at the sound of his armor clattering.
"If that is what you want. I am not holding you back on enjoying the rest of your night with the comfort of wine and ale," Nyrella remained still in front of the window. She hugged herself a little tighter.
Arthur hummed. A silence befallen over the two of them. A part of her was nervous he might take her offer. She did not want him to leave her alone despite what she said.
"I prefer the comfort of your company, Nyrella. Much more than wine and ale," Arthur eventually spoke. He made a stride towards her. His footsteps were the only sound echoing through the empty hall, but if he listened closely, he would hear another sound of Nyrella's pounding heart.
She smiled to herself, "More than wine and ale," she recited back. "That is the first I've ever heard a man confess an unpopular opinion. I wonder what the other would say if they heard you."
Arthur chuckled. Nyrella did not realize how close he was. His hot breath fanned her bare neck like a burning flame. "It is the truth. I am a man that enjoys a drink or two, but not to the point of drunkenness or alcoholism."
"If only Robert could take after your morals," Nyrella turned to face the Kingsguard. It was no secret the heir of the Stormlands was a raging alcoholic, turning to some wild boar as he drank the scarlet liquid of summer wine or the amber fuzz of ale, and sometimes a mix of both. It was another reason she did not want to be at the feast. She knew Robert would want to dance with her, and she did not want his hands on any parts of her body. It made her sick just thinking about the scenario.
"He is much worse than what Rhaegar described him," Arthur came beside her, watching the droplets of rain glide on the glass. "No wonder Jon hates him."
"Arthur," Nyrella spoke. "Could I ask something of you?"
Arthur faced Nyrella's direction, his stare fell on the side of her face. The moonlight hit the highest points of her features, making her appear more striking and hauntingly beautiful. He hummed his response.
"I've noticed recently that many people only desire to tell me half their truths, especially my own brother. I could see in their eyes that they are holding things from me, and I know it comes from good intentions but it still hurts that they cannot trust me like I am something fragile," Nyrella wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "I trust you, Arthur, more than anyone. All I ask for is your promise of your honestly?"
Arthur listened to the desperation in her voice. A desperation that called for the end of her loneliness from being pushed away from the secrets. Arthur let out a breath. He extended his hand towards Nyrella's face, gently grasping her chin with his thumb and index. He turned her face towards him, forcing her to connect her lavender eyes with his. His thumb lightly stroked the softness of her chin.
Nyrella was not in control of her body. She allowed him because she yearned for his touch. The pit of her stomach fluttered like springtime butterflies, her heart soared like a falcon in the sky, and her womanhood burned to be noticed.
"You have my word," his response fanned her face.
She hummed, too speechless to convey with words. Her mouth was slightly open, batting her eyelashes slowly, and her body on edge. She stared at Arthur's face, tracing every feature with her eyes. She licked her own lips when she ended up on his. There were inches between their lips. She wanted a forbidden taste of him.
"Nyrella, Arthur. You two are needed back at the feast," the familiar tone of Jon's voice echoed through the hall, followed by his heavy footsteps.
Arthur released his hold on Nyrella's face, standing straight up as if nothing happened. He took a few steps away from Nyrella, leaving her back into the embrace of the coldness. He turned to greet the Lord of Griffin's Roost with an acknowledging nod as the redhead came closer to the duo. Nyrella wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, taking deep breaths to steady herself.
"Rhaegar's orders?" Arthur asked his friend. The redhead nodded, "He needed a private meeting with Lord Steffon, and he asked for you to come with him."
Arthur gave a firm nodded, "I shall take my leave then. I trust you will deliver Nyrella back to the feast." Without another look back at the Targaryen princess, Arthur strode away into the darkness of the hallway. Nyrella watched him, a piece of her heart with him.
"Come on now, Nyrella," Jon came to her side, gently tugging her elbow. "I know a dozen young lords ready to dance with you."
"Did you see what happened?" Nyrella pulled her elbow away from Jon. There was a defensiveness in her tone.
Jon sighed deeply, "I saw Nyrella."
Nyrella clenched her hands into fist, putting all her disappointed hopes into them, "let's go Jon."
.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.
At the feast, Nyrella went against her better judgement. She loosened up with cups and cups of goblets, even drinking other people's reds, ambers, and odd alcohol that made her want to breathe fire. Her body moved the entire time since she entered the dining hall. Her feet were sore from the constant dancing with different partners, but she minded the pain for the enjoyment of activities. Her mind was muddled like the nasty coloring of mush dirt outside the castle. Need a way to forget what happened earlier.
Just as Nyrella finished a dance with a lord from a vassal house of house Baratheon, one who she could not hear his name through the loud singing of the minstrel and the booming shouts of spoiled men. At the corner of her of her eye, she spotted a familiar silhouette slip through the wooden doors. She blinked a few times to water her dry eyes, making sure she was not seeing things.
"A dance your Grace," a random lord gestured his hand towards Nyrella's front.
"Another time, my lord. Excuse me," Nyrella pushed his hand away, then squeezed her body through the tight space of bodies until she reached the doors.
A whip of cool air engulfed her warm face. She almost forgot a storm brewed outside the warmth of the dining hall. The corridors had little soul like a few hours ago. Her head switched left and right, searching for the person she eagerly wanted to talk to. She squinted her eyes at the right, making out a sliver of someone's figure through her tainted vision.
Her body wobbled as she walked, dragging her feet behind her as she used the stony walls to support her once a while. She blinked hard, pushing away the sleepiness. If anyone were to see her, they would have thought she was a ghost, haunting these halls with her red beady eyes.
"Nyrella," Myles turned from the window to look at the Valyrian princess slowly walking towards him. He took the last few steps, closing the distance between. He held her arms to steady her as he could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her. "You should be resting," he spoke to her again.
Nyrella did not listen to him, only humming as if she did hear him. She pressed her face against his chest, nuzzling her face into the warmth. "Myles..." her voice was hoarse, but still was soft and mellow to the ears.
Myles chuckled as he gently stroked her silver hair, "You should be resting, Nyrella. Let me take you to your quarters."
"No," Nyrella heard him this time, "I want to stay like this." Her arms wrapped around his torso, pressing her body close to his.
A panic arose in Myles. He was not acclaimed for his closeness with Nyrella. He dreamed of them together like this, but he did not imagine the scenario to be like this. He tried to peel her arms off him, but she only embraced him tighter. He pushed her shoulders back, yet she remained latched to his chest.
"Why are you pushing me away," Nyrella looked up to meet Myles' gaze, "don't you want me?"
Myles shook his head, "I do want you but not like this. I cannot take advantage of you, Nyrella. Please, let me escort you back to your quarters."
Suddenly, Nyrella pulled back. Her arms crossed, and her body turned away from him. "Why do people keep treating me as a child," her voice wavered, a fury of emotional tears threatening to fall.
Myles felt bad, "Nyrella, I'm not treating you as a child. All I'm asking for is to take care of you, put you to bed."
"That is exactly the words you say to children," she snapped at him. A few stray tears fell over her cheeks, "I'm tired of people seeing if I'm not capable of handling hardships."
"I'm sorry," Myles apologized. He reached for her, gently holding her elbow to gestures he's here for her. "I see you not as a child, but as a woman. You must understand, the people hiding things from you, only want to keep you away from hurt. I do not want to see you hurt."
She turned her body, facing him once again. She observed him through her glossy eyes, blurry but still visible enough to notice the way his face harmonized. His eyes soften with worry. The front of his dirty blonde hair fell over his eyes. His head slightly tilted, asking her without words if she was okay. For a split second, she thought Arthur was standing in front of her.
"I will escort you ba—" Myles was cut off as Nyrella pressed her lips with his. A sudden kiss from the princess.
Nyrella closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. Her right hand gripped the nape of his neck, forcefully pressing his face against her's. She moved her mouth, willing for him to return the action. The experience was new, giving her goosebumps all over her body.
But just as she could press her lips further into his, Myles got a hold of her arms and pushed her away. Nyrella blinked at the drunkness, observing the aftermath of the kiss. Myles wore an unreadable expression. His honey brown eyes pooled over her, looking at her as if she could break in his arms. His lips were swollen, red, and wet with spit. Nyrella imagined her lips were the same. More of his hair fell over his eyes.
Nyrella reached her hand out to him, to push the hair back in place but Myles grabbed her hand mid-air. "I'm escorting you back. You need to rest for the night," Myles said. He dropped her hand to her side, and turned her body around so her back was towards him. He held onto her shoulders, steadying her as he guided her walk toward her quarters.
But Nyrellla could not walk anymore. The sleepiness of alcohol took over the remainder of her conscious mind. The dark halls were the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes.
.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.
"I told you to look after her."
"I did, but I did not know you wanted me to check how much wine she drank."
"She drank more than just wine."
"She will be fine, but I cannot say when she wakes up. The aftermath makes you want to kill yourself."
"I think she is waking up."
Nyrella shifted in her silk covers. The small peek of sunlight through her windows caused her to stir in bed, and the desire to wake up. She forced her eyelids to open from the crust of sleep. Her vision was blurry at first, and tried to adjust to the bright light in the room. Two people stood at both sides of her bed, their fuzzy figures positioned in a way that made it looked as if they were staring down at her.
"Drink this," Rhaegar pushed a goblet for water towards his sister. Nyrella groaned, rubbing her eyes awake.
"What time is it?" She managed to respond as she grabbed the goblet and drank the contents.
Jon, who was on her right, pushed a plate of lemon slices on the side of her bed. "A quarter to two," he told her, "I advise you to also eat the flesh, if you want your headache gone."
That is when Nyrella felt a sharp pain hit her head that made her eyes water. The headache added to the exhaustion she felt and hunger. She grabbed a lemon slice, brought it to her mouth and sucked the juice out. She took deep breaths to help the throbbing of her head.
Rhaegar sat down on her bed, taking his sister's arm in his hands. He sighed and shook his head disappointingly, "you have a bruise on your forearm."
Nyrella peered down on her arm. She saw a circular purple mark that was the size of a small ball. Rhaegar placed his finger on the bruise, putting a light pressure that made Nyrella wince. "Ouch," she pulled her arm away.
"I will get the Maester to do something about your bruise," Rhaegar moved to stand but Nyrella stopped him.
"Please don't," her voice hoarse from the lemon. " I don't want anyone to see in such a disastrous state."
Rhaegar pursed his lips, "Myles warned me it would be bad, but I did not think it would be this bad. You are not allowed to drink in the next feast for the seven hells, Ny. You might make your stomach explode if I don't restrict you."
"Myles..." her voice trailed. The dizziness made her nauseous.
"Yes, Myles. You are lucky. He carried you all the way here when you passed out. He was frantic when he told me early this morning," Rhaegar explained as he took a slice of lemon for himself.
"Myles..." she said again. This time the name of the Knight of Maidenpool brought back memories from last night. His disheveled blonde hair. His worrying pools of honey browns. Their conversation. Lastly, the kiss.
She brought her fingers to her lips, swallowing the feeling down. There was a pit at the bottom of her stomach. A terrible guilt overcame her as she replayed the memory of the forceful sloppy kiss she inflicted on him. It made her sick for what she did to him.
"Nyrella are you listening?" Rhaegar's question pierced through her blank mind. Suddenly, Nyrella lurched to her right, vomiting the contents of last night's supper on the floor and Jon's boots.
Jon yelled out in disgust, jumping away before more warmish green mush poured over his leather boots. "Seven hells! What did you drink last night!"
Rhaegar gathered Nyrella's with his hands as she continued to empty her stomach. "Fetch the Maester, Jon," Rhaegar commanded his friend, "Ny won't be able to keep anything down the whole day."
Nyrella shook her hand in the air, while her other wiped the vomit that lingered at the corners of her mouth. "I'm fine," she told them. She took a deep breath before resting back into her silk covers. "Where is Myles? I need to speak with him."
"He is busy at the moment," Rhaegar answered swiftly. "You need to focus on resting. Jon, I need you to get the Maester."
Jon nodded. His blue eyes took another glance at the sick princess. He pointed his index at her, furrowing his eyebrows, "you owe me a new pair of boots." After saying his peace, Jon slipped through the doors, leaving the dragon siblings alone.
"You do not understand," Nyrella breathed out as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
Rhaegar sat beside her, wiping the remnants of vomit around her mouth, "what do you mean, Ny? What don't I understand?"
"Everything, Rhaegar. Don't pretend to care, when you hide things from me," she looked deep into his indigo eyes.
"You are delusional, Ny. Go back to sleep," he averted his gaze. He pulled the cover higher on her body.
Nyrella shook her head, "You know I'm right. What can't you tell me? Why do you push me away like everyone?"
Rhaegar said nothing. The silence filled the room until Jon and the Maester arrived. Nyrella felt herself spiraling into her own thoughts, ready to explode from the frustration. Her mind turns morbid and grim, sometimes thinking to herself that she would have rather perished in the cool depths of the lake then experience constant pain of hurt from the people she cares most about.
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samieree · 4 months
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Born in Flames || Game of Thrones
OC x ?😏
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The young former Princess Visenya, and now Maegelle Targaryen, after the death of King Robert I Baratheon can finally come to King's Landing without fear of death at the hands of Robert, who has vowed to kill any Targaryen he can.
Exactly, "any Targaryen he can"…
He hasn't been able to touch Maegelle since Tywin Lannister took her to Casterly Rock and she was under his care for the next seventeen years, raised to be against her real family. Even her changed name is to make her realize who she should be.
But will she listen to it? After all, she had spent her entire life with the murderers of her family…
Introduction
Maegelle (Visenya) Targaryen
The only surviving child of the late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell.
The first woman named Visenya since the conquest of the Seven Kingdoms, who was miraculously saved from death by Tywin Lannister before the Mountain could hurt her.
She was just a baby, she doesn't remember anyone from her immediate family. However, thanks to her servant Selaria, she knows the truth about her parents, her ancestors and their language.
She was secretly learning valyrian, following the traditions of her family and where they came from.
After the death of Robert I Baratheon, the best and worst period of her life begins at the same time... A time when she will have to fight for herself, perhaps even with her family...
The silver-haired daughter of Rhaegar, who had never even met her. Visenya Targaryen.
Prologue
"Ah, how beautiful it would be to leave them all and go on your own!" King Robert Baratheon said as he sat down in a chair at a table spread out on the grass.
"I'd go with you." His longtime friend Eddard Stark replied, sighing softly and looking at the fields stretching out around him.
"So what do you say about that? Just us and our swords, and of course the wenches in the taverns to warm a little our old bones." Robert suggested, taking advantage of the food spread out on the table.
"You should have proposed that twenty years ago."
"Ugh..." he sighed and threw something on his plate. "We had our wars, women... But never youth."
"I remember it a bit differently..." Ned replied, making his friend laugh and then he smiled at the memory of the past.
"Including that one wench, how was she?" At this point Ned's mood turned a bit, but he didn't let it show. Nevertheless, he stopped listening a bit to what Robert had to say to him later and replied immediately.
"You mean Bessy?" He asked, as if looking at his friend, but his thoughts were somewhere else.
"Yes, Bessy... Thank the gods for her and her tits." they laughed lightly. "And how was yours? Alina...? Ugh, you know who I mean, bastard's mother."
"Waila."
"Of course... She had to be good to make Stark forget his honor." Robert noted. If he only knew the truth... "You never said what she looked like." maybe because she wasn't there?
"And I won't." Eddard declared, looking away from his friend and focusing again on the field and the forest in the distance.
"We were in the war." Robert began. "We had no idea if we would survive it." He seemed to be trying to comfort a friend who was all too good at hiding the truth. "You are always too strict with yourself and probably if I were not the king, you would have hit me." he said finally.
"And that's the worst drawback of your being king." He replied, smiling slightly.
Would he actually hit him? Who knows, but Ned himself felt he wouldn't have done it, despite everything Robert said. Even if it adds credibility to his lie.
"Believe me, it's not the biggest flaw..." Sighing, he reached into one of his pockets for a piece of folded paper. "A messenger arrived at night." He handed Stark the letter and leaned back on the chair.
"Daenerys Targaryen..." Ned read as he unfolded the paper. "...she married a Dothraki khal." He looked at the letter a moment longer, raised an eyebrow for a moment, and folded it back on the table. "You want to send her a wedding gift?"
"Yes, a knife, preferably a sharp knife and immediately with a hand that will use it..." he growled angrily, sipping a little alcohol, as was his habit often.
"It's just a child." Ned said dismissively.
"Which will soon spread her legs and start giving birth." His friend added.
"Wait... You are serious?"
"Fully, is it such a disgrace? It was a real disgrace what the Targaryens had done to the Starks, led by Rhaegar Targaryen and what he had done to your sister Lyanna! My beloved, destined for me!" Evidently Robert was irritated about the Targaryen. He leaned over the table a little and added one more sentence with fury in his eyes. "I will kill every Targaryen I can get my hands on!"
"You're not doing very well, three of them alive, including one in Westeros." Ned commented, making his interlocutor even more angry.
"Because bloody Tywin Lannister keeps her in his stronghold, hiding her from the world! And over the sea it is said that Khal Drogo has a hundred thousand warriors!"
"Even a million dothraki aren't a threat to us as long as they are on the other side of the sea, without ships!" Stark tried to explain it all to him as simply as possible, raising his voice a little at him to make it clearer.
"But there are still people who call me a usurper. If a young Targaryen ever stands on this land, there will be some rogues to support him.
"If. And yet he will not cross, the Dothraki believe that great water is poisonous. And even if he miraculously succeeds, we'll push him over to sea." Robert fell silent after his friend's words, and after a moment of watching him, he drank again.
Honestly? He didn't quite know what to think about it. It irritated him immensely that he couldn't kill this bloody lineage to the end, especially the person he had on the same continent. Once... He almost made it once, when he saw her when he arrived at Casterly Rock. But still the fucking child got away with her life, and she still dares to breathe in these lands. An innocent child? Idle talk, they've killed so many Targaryen children already and they've just decided to spare her? There had to be a purpose for it, he just couldn't get there yet.
"War is coming, Ned." Robert finally said, deciding not to share his thoughts after all. "I don't know when or with who, but I'm sure we will fight." ~ -> Chapter I "Home?" -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist
I won't tell you with who Visenya's gonna end up, because... Well, there will be a few love stories across the book 😅 Enjoy
But I can give you a small spoiler of who will show up in the book 👀 ↓
Ser Arthur Dayne
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xxpeppermintxx109 · 10 months
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this song is so rhaenyra ii/arthur coded www.youtube(.)com/watch?v=Xtcgq98P6vo
FOR THE DANCING AND THE DREAMING FROM HTTYD2?! OH MYIWBSOSNWLNSMS YES YES YES
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ITS THEM YOUR HONOR
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richardsthirdnipple · 11 months
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At this point I think as a fandom, we've lost some of the crackship charm we once had. I can look up Ashara Dayne and Ser Davos and find results, But Nettles and Helaena have nothing. It's time to rectify that for my favourite girl and try to inspire some fanfics. Feel free to add more.
1. Daeron and Nettles
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Think Enemies to Lovers, Captive of War drama like Jaime and Brienne or just some good old Gwen and Arthur-inspired love. Ivy by Taylor Swift coded, a She's all that inspired affair. I genuinely think that he's just trying to be there for her with this one. It happens and neither of them realise until You're in Love starts playing.
2. Baela and Nettles.
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They would give the pot calling the kettle black in every argument. The Princess Bride-esque dynamic between them. Very Graham and Megan from but I'm a Cheerleader. Sapphic Pinning and Resentment should be its own genre. Sir Chloe's Michelle is my vision. We can even make a throuple with them and Jace or Alyn. Truly, I think they but heads until they kiss, building on resentment. I also think they would be the coolest couple.
3. Addam and Nettles
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Kaz and Inej core.
But in all seriousness, I think Addam being loyal and Duty bound and Nettles challenging that idea is delicious. Solider of Duty x Solider for the People. A modern-day Persuasion story but gender-flipped if we put our minds to it. See you Again Kali Uchis and Tyler the Creator, that's all.
4. Nettles and Helaena
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They just deserve better. That's all. Give me cottagecore sapphic romance with my best girls involves. Like the young lesbians from Barbie and the Diamond Castle. Lesbians raising kids together. Sheepstealer and Dreamfyre hatching eggs for the nieces and nephews. I just-
It would be so cool, I will by Mitski sentiment is already attached.
5. Alyn and Nettles
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Now that we are here obviously she apologized for Sheepstealer, she doesn't need to but she did, He tries not to like her but can't help it. She wins him over and they hatch him an egg or something idk. Think The Princess Diaries: Royal Engagement, Mia and Nicholas, Flipped the movie if you will. Jealously plots would slay. For the song choice think Shameless Camila Cabello. Please remember that Alyn is younger than Netty by 3/4 years though.
6. Rhaena and Nettles
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See now this is classic Friends to Lovers, Emma and Harriet if gay, perhaps, Bend it Like Beckham core definitely. Sofia by Clario inspired. Nettles doesn't leave Rhaena out because she's without a dragon and the same happens inverse. Sapphic confusion however, like Rhaena doesn't understand at first why she feels that way.
7. Nettles and Jace.
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Now for the Mr Knightley and Emma Woodhouse of our time, the Kate and Anthony of Westeros. The potential for her just not listening to him when he tries to tell her how to ride a dragon. Or when she talks to him about the people he'll rule over eventually, Ygritte and Jon style. She's also the only bastard who doesn't look Targaryen, he can relate to that a bit. I think she's Fierce and he's Stubborn. Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle for them.
8. Nettles and Alys.
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The Fire Witches of Westeros. I think they will be perfect as a ship. American Horror Story-esque characters. The two Witches in the story are obviously my favourites. It would be Jennifer's Body meets, the craft meets, and Suspiria. Willow by Taylor Swift becomes them.
This one was also a bonus more or less.
Anyways I just need to start to get a baseline story for my girl by the time the show gives her to us. So we have a general sense of direction, I'm tired of the mischaracterization of my baby. She's smart, resourceful, Cunning, Fearless, and not entirely loyal. She also curses, enough for it to be a character trait. Please remember this for her, I'm tired. I also know that Daemon loved her but she's too much fun as a character to limit her to him romantically in all her fanfictions, it is an interesting narrative to explore while we don't have exact answers but he gets romantic ships with anyone. She deserves more.
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