Work Text:
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.