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He was nobler than that; Arthur kept trying to reinforce that thought into his brain as he diligently watched the dazzling (y/n) Targaryen dance about with her ladies-in-waiting. Arthur stood on the outskirts of the festivities, skirts fluttering about him and laughs filled the air. All of this went unnoticed as he admired his princess. The Targaryen princess may have been unaware of the attention the Sword of the Morning was secretly lavishing upon her, but her older brother didn’t. Rhaegar, much like his sister, was dressed finely in Targaryen red and black although truth be told those colors looked too harsh for either of the Targaryen heirs. They would’ve looked far better in softer hues. Their personalities were too gentle for the dominating black and red.
“What lucky girl has caught your eye, Arthur?” Rhaegar waltzes over to the seasoned knight with a playful grin. Lilac eyes sparkling with the light cast off from the many candles that lit the ballroom.
Arthur flushes inwardly, switching his gaze to a different part of the room. “No one your grace.”
He rolls his eyes and clasps Arthur’s shoulder. “At ease. We’re at a party. Lose the formality and have fun. Ask my sister to dance. I know you want to. You’ve been staring at her the whole entire night.”
Warmth creeps up on him. “Was I that obvious. . . ? Forgive me. I didn’t mean-”
“Arthur, relax. It’s only natural that you would fall in love with her.” His features grow soft as he watches his beloved sister. “You’re only human. Any healthy man would fall in love with (y/n).”
Yes, Arthur knew that. All eligible lords vied for her hand. Every man that wasn’t wed wanted (y/n) Targaryen as their bride. Only it wasn’t so easy to even meet her face-t0-face, Rhaegar made sure of that. He didn’t let anyone who he deemed unworthy to get near his sister. Everyone at the Red Keep knew that Rhaegar was (y/n)’s personal guard.
“Go dance with her.” Rhaegar urges his friend. “She won’t say no. Not to you.”
His heart leapt in his chest, feet begging him to move. Rhaegar was practically giving his blessing. Rhaegar was a tough judge when it came to his sister yet he permitted Arthur to get close to her. But he couldn’t. The white cloak that hung off his back was a reminder of his station and his vow.
Warring with himself, Arthur takes a step back, closer to the wall. “I can’t.”
Staring at him for a moment, Rhaegar nods. “I admire your will-strength, Ser Arthur. Your devotion to the Kingsguard is unparalleled.” From his tone, Arthur took note of the prince’s disappointment. “It’s quite a shame though. There is no other man alive besides myself that could make my sister happy. You would’ve filled her life with joy and undying loyalty. And she would’ve given you everything.”
How Arthur wished that it could be a reality. He had taken an oath though. Even if Rhaegar was his close friend, breaking the vow would mean death.
Clenching his fingers into a tight fist, Arthur focuses his gaze off to the distance.
“I was wondering where my beloved brother had gone off to!” Her melodic voice caused panic in Arthur.
(y/n) came fluttering toward them, dazzling those she passed by and taking awat Arthur’s breath. The blood of old Valyria was strong in her veins. Enchanting lavender eyes, such a rich shade that Arthur found himself lost in them for a moment. How was it possible for someone to be as beautiful as (y/n)? Her silver hair was pleated with black pearls that were woven into her strands to form the shape of a crown. Lips pale pink turn up into a flashing grin.
Even Rhaegar wasn’t immune to her beauty. “My lovely sister.” He brushes a stray strand of silver from her forehead and replaces it with his lips. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much.” (y/n) beams, turning her eyes to Arthur. “You and my brother need to join in the festivities.”
“I wish I could, my lady, but as a kingsguard I must pass on it. My job is to watch after you and Rhaegar. Your safety is more important than me having fun.” Arthur informs her with a gentle tone.
“One dance won’t hurt.” Speaks up Rhaegar, knowing how badly the Sword of the Morning wanted to engage more with Princess (y/n).
About to protest, (y/n) claps her hands. “Yes! One dance won’t hurt! I promise to let you be. Just one dance, Ser Arthur.”
He was stuck between two Targaryens. The expression on Rhaegar’s face was urging his leal knight to dance with his sister. Arthur didn’t have it in him to say no.
A defeated sigh, Arthur holds his hand out to (y/n). “As you wish, my princess.”
Grin growing, (y/n) places her delicate hand in his. Sparks snapped inside of his stomach at the contact. Her hand was so soft and warm.
She led him back into the crowd, her gardenia perfume leaving a trail behind her. “Lets see how your dancing skills are.”
“Prepared to be disappointed my lady.”
“You can never disappoint me, Ser Arthur.” Naked honesty shined out. “You have done so much good for my family and I. You’re the most skilled knight in all of Westeros. Any woman would be honored to dance with you.”
At that moment, Arthur’s love for (y/n) grew tenfold.
*
“What?” gawking, Arthur refused to believe what was being told to him.
Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Gerald Hightower grinned at the normally put together man. “You heard me. By order of Prince Rhaegar himself, you have been appointed personal guard of Princess (y/n). Aerys has given his signature of consent.” He hands over the letter that he had received that morning. Arthur takes it and reads it over himself. In dried ink is the signature of King Aerys. Rhaegar. . . The Silver Prince was unrelenting. Despite Arthur’s vows to the guard, Rhaegar was determined to see him with (y/n). Not that Arthur was completely opposed to it, but what Rhaegar had done was dangerous. Being so close to his beloved princess put his feelings for her at risk. If it was obvious to Rhaegar that Arthur was in love with her, who else would be able to see it. Arthur would have to be careful. Turn his heart into stone around (y/n) if need be. He would have to keep a wall up around him at all times otherwise (y/n) would easily slink further into his heart.
When Arthur goes to inform his princess of the changes made he found her gazing out across Blackwater Bay. Her silver hair gently blown from her face by the breeze that rolled by.
“Your grace. . .”
(y/n) turns, eyes darkened by internal brooding. Hands that had been clasped in front of her unfold. A necklace that had the Targaryen crest dangled from between her fingers. “They sent her to Dragonstone. My mother. She’s pregnant again.”
“That’s. . . good news, is it not?” Proceeded Arthur carefully.
She solemnly shook her head. “Not for her. Pregnancies have never been kind to her. I fear for her, Arthur. My poor mother has already been through enough grief. What if this pregnancy is the one that finishes her?”
He pauses a moment before stepping toward his glittering princess. The shore’s pebbles crunching underneath the heaviness of his boot. She was so close to the water. Maybe (y/n) had thought about swimming all the way to Dragonstone to be with Rhaella. “Queen Rhaella is a strong woman. She has survived things far worse. Have faith that the Mother will take care of her as she has for years.”
That managed to bring a small smile to her face. “Yes, she is a strong woman. I just wish I could’ve gone with her but my father forbade it. Says King’s Landing needs it’s princess here.”
“I’m sure your mother feels you with her in spirit.” Arthur assures her. He wanted to touch her, offer some sort of physical affirmation that would give comfort to (y/n). That wouldn’t be a wise idea though.
(y/n) closes her eyes before speaking again. “I hear you’re my new personal guard.”
“That I am.”
“I’m sorry. It will prove a very boring job.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. You have much excitement to offer.”
Finally she laughed and all seemed well in the world.
The world was always a better place when he was with (y/n). That proved true as the days passed, filled with precious moments of him with the princess.
(y/n) loved going out on evening rides on horseback with Arthur. They would go through the orchards, Arthur plucking a ripe apple for her; (y/n) watching the brightly colored birds flutter about. Many times she would seek out Rahegar’s company if he had time. Rhaegar would bring out his harp and (y/n). . . gods, (y/n)’s voice brought both Rhaegar and Arthur to tears as she sang Jenny of Oldstones. How huanting the tremor was that Arthur had to hurriedly wipe at his eyes lest his brothers see him crying. They looked beautiful together. Rhaegar and (y/n). If they had gone through with the Valyrian custom of wedding each other, Arthur knew that their children would be absolutely gorgeous. Thankfully for him though, neither sibling seemed intent on marrying the other despite how much they loved each other. It was a familial love, not an ounce of romance. Arthur found himself excited each morning to start his day because it involved (y/n). He had gotten used to squashing down his feelings for the Dragon Princess, even though they grew daily.
That is until his strength was put to the test. He had accidentally walked in on her as her hand maid was helping her get dressed. Bearing witness to the naked expanse of her back, smooth as cream. The curve of her waist that ventured to her voluptuous hips. Foolish of him, Arthur tried to flee but loudly bumped into the wall from his clumsy attempt to escape.
(y/n) and her maid turn. Instead of hiding herself, she smiled and merely called him silly. Arthur had never felt so embarrassed in his whole entire life; his face burning red hot.
Who had he been kidding, thinking that he could stop loving her as much as he did. Pretend that he didn’t think everything about her was endearing.
It was a hopeless cause that Arthur quickly realized he was losing.
**
He hadn’t spoken to you for days, let alone look your way. Arthur had become a statue in your presence and you didn’t understand why.
Had you done something wrong? You couldn’t recall anything negative you might have done.
The slightest eye contact you managed to make with him, Arthur was quick to dodge it; averting his gaze to anywhere else but you. You had been having fun before he changed at least that’s what you thought. Certainly you had enjoyed the time you spent with him. To Arthur though you were probably just another task for him. He had joined the kingsguard to protect the king, your father no matter how crazy he was becoming. Now he was downgraded to you, a mere princess. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he wanted to go back to guarding Aerys. At least that provided some sort of stimulation. Arthur was meant for more.
Gloominess clouded your chest as you pondered over it. Arthur was one of the best knights in all of Westeros. He was putting his skill to waste by being your personal guard. A knock to your door had you replying with a soft ‘come in’. No surprise that it was the Sword of the Morning, as it was early in the evening. His face was stoic, playing the part of a perfect guard. “Princess, are you ready for the stables?”
His formality upset you. Why was he cold all of a sudden. “Ser Arthur, sit with me for a moment.”
Frame going rigid, Arthur almost appeared frightened at the prospect of being too close to you. “If you insist your grace.”
You finished drinking your early morning tea and set the cup back on the porcelain saucer. “Have I done something wrong?”
That took him by surprise. “I’m sorry?”
Hastily running your tongue over your bottom lip you continue. “Forgive me if I’m just overreacting but I feel as if. . . you don’t like me as much as you used to. Maybe it was just my imagination, but we used to have fun and enjoy each other’s company.” You feel a blush slowly rise onto the skin of your cheeks. Maybe you were assuming too much. Arthur must think you a silly, naive, little girl. Suddenly you feel your tongue grow heavy like lead and your heart rise up into your throat. For some reason it meant a great deal whether Arthur liked your company or not. Dozens if knights had guarded you throughout the years, none of their opinions had mattered to you as much as Arthur’s did. He was a great man; handsome and strong. Someone who got along well with Rhaegar, that was the most important thing since Rhaegar was your beloved brother.
You realized an awkward silence had filled your chambers as Arthur gawked at you.
“My lady. . . I never meant to hurt your feelings with my actions.” he starts out, hanging his head. Dark bangs cascade over violet eyes that could’ve passed off for Targaryen. Arthur takes a pained, deep breath as he lays his hands out on the table. Tan hands that had spent years wielding his family’s sword Dawn and making them proud. As nervous as you had been, those beautiful eyes of his finally meet your own. You could read so much into them. Fear, worry, longing. Only words were needed to confirm what he was feeling.
“I’ve been trying my hardest to stop the love that has been growing inside of me. . . for you.”
Now it was your turn to stare at him incredulously. This magnificent man had just declared his affection for you.
“I know it’s impossible.” Arthur shuts his eyes. “I’m a man with an oath and you’re a princess a Westeros. It’s not right that I feel like this for you, but I am unable to stop it. No matter how hard I’ve tried. It just seems like my efforts have only accomplished in hurting you. I’m so sorry.”
You let out a soft laugh as you process everything that had been thrown at you. Inside your chest was the savage beating of a drum.
“I would be remiss if I were to say that I wasn’t attracted to you. . .” Admitting with a violent blush, you fiddle with the silver ring on your finger that Rhaegar had gifted you for one of your name days. The head of a dragon with a dainty pearl in its mouth. “You should not apologize. You have done nothing wrong. One cannot control who they fall in love with. As a sworn brother though I understand your concern. Above all things you value honor, correct?” With his stunned affirmation, you solemnly nod; knowing what you had to do. As a princess you often had to do things you didn’t want to. This was one of them. Even if your hand shook as you placed it on top of his, you had to continue. “Then I relinquish you from my personal guard. You are to report back to your sworn brothers.”
“(y/n)-”
You stopped him. “Being around me all the time isn’t good for either of us. We run a risk of giving into our feelings, no matter how strong your virtue is many good men have fallen for the sake of a woman. You’re too good for sullying your reputation by being romantically involved with me, Arthur. I need to let you go. You know I’m right.”
Arthur’s fingers curl around your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. The only kind of kiss he would ever be able to give you. “If I could discard my white cloak for you and a chance to call myself your husband, I would. You will always have sway over my heart.”
A Targaryen shouldn’t show weakness, at least that’s what your father had always told you. At that moment you felt incredibly weak and vulnerable in front of Arthur as every muscle inside of you was fighting off the sob that was trying to claw its way out of you. Despite all you had said, you didn’t want to give him up. For once you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to kiss his full lips, have him ask for your hand in marriage. That maybe against all odds the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would allow Arthur to take you as a wife while allowing him to keep his white cloak. Only dreams, it was never to be.
You swallowed back tears and watched him leave. Once gone the storm broke through as you collapse against the glass of the window, smearing your tears and leaving streaks. In this world of cold affection and cruel bloodlines, you knew there wouldn’t be that big of chance for your future betrothed to truly love you as Arthur did. Your father would marry you off to whomever could offer him more.
“High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghost” Your once lovely voice was cracking, trying to work through the tears that sullied your voice.
“The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most
The ones who’d been gone for so very long
She couldn’t remember their names” Eyelashes tacking from crying close and brush against your damp cheeks. Recalling Arthur’s eyes light up when you had sung for him, Rhaegar by your side.
“They spun her around on the damp old stone
Spun away all her sorrow and pain
And she never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave”
**
He couldn’t continue any further down the hall before slamming his fist against the wall, the other was gripping tightly at the pommel of Dawn with the hope that it would help him fight off this devastating sensation. A ragged breath ripped through him as he leaned his forehead against the wall, trying to steady himself. All the while he swore he could hear (y/n)’s haunted and melancholy singing.
“They danced through the day and into the night
Through the snow that swept through the hall
From winter to summer and winter again
‘Til the walls did crumble and fall”
Never before had he regretted taking a vow into the Kingsguard. A vow never to father children, never take a wife of his own, a vow to only serve the king. Had he met (y/n) earlier in life. . . who knows. Maybe even then Aerys would still forbade him from marrying her. A Dayne wasn’t good enough for one of Targaryen blood. And now she would most likely be married off to another lord. Tears escaping captivity, Arthur Dayne sings in a broken voice:
“And she never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave”