#arthur dayne x reader

[a-libra-writes]

AAAA REQUESTS ARE OPENED ILYSM!!11!1!1If it's not too much id like to request for my bbgs Jamie, Brienne and maybe Arya when they haven't seen s/o all day so they're getting pretty angsty but when they're finished with training or whatever for the day they find beloved asleep in one of the spots they usually meet at while waiting for them. (Sorry if I made it too specific) sending much loveლ⁠(⁠´⁠ ⁠❥⁠ ⁠`⁠ლ⁠)

Im gonna do Jaime and Brienne (and some others bc i cannot control myself) but sans Arya! lets goooo

Jaime - First of all, he's in a foul mood when he finally gets back, muttering and grumbling to himself. When he spots you in the usual spot you wait in - oh. Shit, that's actually ... very endearing. He wants to be smug about it, but there's just a lot of sentiment that sits with him as he tries to remember someone wanting to see him that badly, that they'd fall asleep waiting. He watches you for a little while, considering this, before finally waking you up. Now he's all smug and teasing you about being so clingy. Naturally he'll escort you back to your chambers, not really caring about the hour or that he's a Kingsguard and shouldn't be seen doing such things. He'll figure out a lie an explanation later.

Jon - He's ready to kick in the door of the Lord Commander's chambers, if only his sore and freezing body would cooperate. Jon's exhausted and figured a while ago you would've gone to bed. You both have to be careful, after all - but then he spots you dozed off in an old wooden chair by a dying hearth. Were you waiting up this whole time? He feels guilty at once, and tries to be quiet as he gets the fire going again. Once it's up, Jon gently wakes you up by brushing some of your hair aside and kissing your brow. He really can't help himself, though his hands are like ice! You two cuddle and warm up before heading to your separate chambers.

Brienne - It was a brutal day of riding and routing bandits, and while she can normally take it, this went on longer than usual. Brienne's strong, but she has her physical limit. She's staggering back, being the last to retire to bed. When she finds that you waited for her, she feels so bad! Brienne hadn't realized you'd do such a thing - it fills up her heart with affection, so she gently wakes you and asks if she can carry you back to your room. You actually accept, and she feels the fatigue wash away as she gladly carries you back. She loves being a knight for you, and it turns out you're very snuggly when you're tired.

Arthur Dayne - He leaves his post late in the evening, much later than the usual meeting time. You probably aren't there, but - it's worth a look, isn't it? And there you are, asleep in the garden you and Arthur like to steal away to. He wakes you up very gently, cautioning you between kisses about falling asleep in such a vulnerable state. He doesn't have the heart to really scold you about it, at least not until the morning. He escorts you halfway to your chambers before has to retreat to the White Sword Tower.

Victarion - He already thinks about you when he doesn't want to, or when it's not a good time. It happens more often when he's tired, which is troublesome. The late hour doesn't occur to him when he's back; you're always waiting, no matter what, and - oh. You're asleep. ... You really shouldn't be asleep where anyone could find you and do something, even in Castle Pyke. Victarion scoops you right up, not realizing how badly that would startle you. He just grumbles that you ought to be more careful, and any touches or kisses distract him immediately.

Asha - First, why are you so damn cute? How'd you end up in a place like the Iron Islands, anyway? For once in her life, someone is waiting for her at home like a puppy... even when she gets back late, like now. Asha wills her tired body over and wakes you up with a big kiss and her soft laugh. Aww, what, you really like her that much? She messes with your hair and pulls you up, urging you to her chambers as you stumble and grumble behind her.

Jorah - Well he's always thinking of you, but especially so if he had to depart before the sun is up and he's finally returning hours after its set. By then, Jorah's exhausted and just wants to get home to you. Once he finds you asleep on the settee you like best - oh no, he might die from the sweetness. You waited up for him? Jorah sits right next to you, giving you a big, sleepy hug and apologizing about being back so late. You both end up falling asleep cuddled up on the couch because he's too tired to move and now you're comfortable and warm, so you aren't going anywhere.

Brynden - Coming back from a long day of training and keeping up with his men, Brynden doesn't notice the time until he spots you sleeping on a large windowsill. He feels bad for making you wait so long, and finds it endearing you even wanted to wait up for an old knight. He picks you up very carefully, so it's his voice that wakes you. "Making these old bones carry you back to bed, hm?" He's not bothered that anyone would spot you two - he knows which halls are empty at this hour.

#jaime lannister x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #jon snow x reader #arthur dayne x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #jorah mormont x reader #brynden tully x reader #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #libra headcanons

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Tender Tragedy

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.

#Arthur Dayne #arthur dayne fanfiction #arthur dayne x reader #arthur dayne fanfic #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #Game of Thrones fandom #ASoIaF #asoiaf fandom #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fic #A Song of Ice and Fire #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfic #A Song of Ice and Fire fandom

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Arthur Dayne: Physical description and NSFW Alphabet edition

After the Arthur Dayne requests I received, I was sorely tempted to write up a full NSFW alphabet that could be used for future fics, so here it is, along with a brief physical description of him.

Themes: Smut

Warning: This post contains a wide variety of mature and explicit content (sex, positions, kinks, cum, etc.) | Mention of scars

Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

A/n: I write with the seasons of Westeros stretching over the usual three months per season, not years and years. Sorry not sorry, GRRM.

What does Arthur Dayne look like?

Arthur was born in the spring of 240 AC. He stands at 6’3, with a muscular frame to go with it. His skin is like the burnished gold sands of Dorne. Like his sister, Ashara, Arthur has rich, earthy brown hair and purple eyes, although his is pale, like lilacs. As a knight and a disciplined warrior, Arthur keeps his hair cropped short, just like his beard. Due to his long life as a warrior, Arthur’s body is covered in the scars of old wounds.

What is he like as a lover? Gentle, considerate and tender. As for the rest?

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Arthur is big on pampering, like cuddles, words of endearment, and acts of service, such as bringing his partner a meal, a glass of water, or their favorite drink, or drawing a warm bath whenever possible.   

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) : On his partner’s, he loves their lips because he loves to kiss. Arthur rarely gets the chance to do so due to his being a knight of the King’s Guard. Discovery is dangerous, so as soon as an opportune moment presents itself, expect him to pull them into his embrace while he showers them with deep, soulful kisses.

For him, Arthur’s favorite body part is his arms. All the better to lift his love with, is his motto. The feel of his partner running their hands all over his arms while telling him how wonderfully strong he is, is intoxicating to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): Arthur Dayne is very much into finishing inside his partner, every single time. Nothing less would do for him. And there is no need to worry about unexpected epilogues. Arthur makes sure his partner has easy access to freshly prepared moon tea.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): Arthur has one fantasy, and one fantasy only. To make love to his partner in the Round Room of the Sword Tower, and on top of the White Shield Table, no less.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): Despite being a sworn brother of the King’s Guard, Arthur still has plenty of experience, for he did not take up orders until he was twenty two.

He certainly knows what he is doing and is not afraid to put his experience, his hands and his tongue, to good use.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): On top, where he could look at his partner during the act, touch them all over, and kiss them. Or from behind, where he can still maintain control and set the pace.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): Arthur is very much a serious lover. The act of making love is precious to him, not something to be made light of. If he does make a joke, it would only be because it is his partner’s first time with him, and he wants them to be comfortable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): Arthur is well groomed, and takes good care of himself. He doesn’t have an excess of body hair, but there is a soft trail of dark brown hair trailing down his chest, ending in a similar colored thatch between his thighs.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): He is big on romance, setting the right scene, kissing, and taking his time to please his partner with lots of foreplay. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): Masturbation has little appeal, for he prefers the warmth of his partner’s body to the use of his hand. If he cannot find a partner, or if his partner is occupied elsewhere, Arthur will be content to wait.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): Arthur has little in the way of kinks. He is into slow and gentle lovemaking, but he will take his partner’s kinks into consideration, such as using blindfolds or feathers.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): The bedroom, naturally. Something about soft sheets and a softer bed, with wide windows letting in a cooling wind, appeals to him more than any other location.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): The sounds of his partner’s moans, the feel of them trembling against him, their urging to go harder and faster, always warms his blood fast.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Anything that can inflict pain of any kind on his partner. Hurting his partner, even to give them pleasure, is a huge turn-off for him, so his partner can expect to hear him saying no to requests such as spanking.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) : Arthur loves to give. He would spend all day between his partner’s legs if time and his duties permitted him to do so. He plants broad strokes with the flat of his tongue, sometimes slipping a finger or two into his partner’s hole while he goes down on them.

He loves to receive as well, often showering his partner with praise on how well they take him and how good their mouth is around his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): When it comes to pace, Arthur is on the slow and sensual side. He wants to make the most of his time with his partner, to explore their body, to savor every moment he has with them.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): Arthur has little interest in quickies, as he is a man who wants to take his time. He may be tempted into saying yes if his partner succeeds in appealing to his baser urges.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): Besides the yearning to take his partner over the White Shield Table in the Round room? Very little in the terms of risks and experimenting.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): Given how strong he is as a warrior, Arthur could go on for most of the night if he could. And it would be one marathon session that would leave his partner weak and exhausted by the end of it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): He does not own toys, but he may consider using something like a silk blindfold or feathers if his partner asks to.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): Arthur does not believe in denying his partner, except when they are being bratty. Then he will just deny them sex until they show they know how to behave.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): Arthur is on the quieter side. Soft grunts or groans are what his partner will hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Arthur once kissed his partner during the great tourney of 276 AC, and in his tent, when he came to rest before the final joust.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): He is decently proportioned, at around six inches. His cock is thick and veiny and more than a little sensitive. The right touch is enough to make him hard.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): Arthur has an average sex drive, and would never press his partner if they were not in the mood. Even kissing and cuddling are enough to satisfy him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward): He tends to fall asleep pretty fast, as he has to rise early and see to his duties. He will still hold his partner close to him while he rests and will wake them so he can give them a proper goodbye before he has to sneak back to the Red Keep.

#Arthur dayne smut #Arthur dayne #Arthur dayne imagine #Arthur dayne x reader #Game of thrones imagine #Game of thrones #Game of thrones x reader

[missglaskin]

Hmmm. Arthur Dayne who is in love with the Princess he is supposed to guard. She's just too pure and innocent, untainted by Targaryen madness. He sees the way Rhaegar looks at his little sister despite already being a married man, but what scares him the most is the way Aerys' purple eyes would also gaze at his own daughter. The more children Rhaella loses, the more Arthur finds the King's hungry eyes strays at the Princess as though assessing her.

When Rhaegar finally tells him his plan to take Lyanna Stark as his bride of ice and his sister as his bride of fire, Arthur acts. He is no Aemon the Dragonknight but he also won't just let this Targaryen men tarnish her. So when Rhaegar finally tells them to enact his plan, instead of going to the Tower of Joy, Arthur and the unconscious Princess are on a ship to Essos.

Fucking finally some Arthur Dayne also the reader is adopted

Arthur would feel the utmost guilt for falling in love with you. The princess he's sworn to protect. But how could he not? Aside from your beauty, you possessed a kindness and gentleness that is rarely seen. You greeted your sworn knight with a smile each time, asked him of his day and times behind closed doors addressed him by his name. 

In your naivety, the knight felt compelled to protect you from those who would dare to harm you. Arthur lost count on how men have met the touch of his sword. But he was willing to do it again and again, if it meant keeping you safe and unharmed. 

Though what is he to do when the men that he must protect you from are the ones he must not slain, either. His fists clenched at the way your brother’s eyes roam over your figure. But you are blind to it. Greeting and embracing your brother, unaware of his desire. 

Arthur comes to find quickly it’s not your brother who he should fear, but rather your father. A man who above all should be the one to shield his daughter from the horrors of this world instead of pushing her right into it. His hand trails to the handle of the sword, but never dares to do what he wishes to do. Still, Arthur finds himself tempted more and more. As time goes and the more children the queen loses.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was Rhaegar’s plan that was told to him. Your brother intends to take you as his bride. The thought of your brother, even your father tarnishing you-ruining you, runs through Arthur's head. No longer will you flash him your lovely smile and let out the sweet sound that’s your laughter. No longer will you run to him and lock your arms together.

In the same way as your mother, you'll be alone and broken-spirited. In which he will be forced to watch. Arthur tells himself he would rather face a hundred swords than ever let a fate such as this succumb to you.

And it’s how Arthur finds himself on the ship sailing to Essos. His eyes watch as you sleep soundly. By the time you awake, it’ll be far too late to go back.

#yandere concept #arthur dayne x reader #yandere game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader

[tornedheart]

Yandere Arthur Dayne

Warning: unhealthy relationships, pregnancy mentions.

I received a request for multiples characters some weeks ago and sorry for the lateness, I'm doing it bit by bit.

AU where kingsguard's can get married and father children.

Arthur Dayne was one of the greatest knights, some would even dare to say that he was the deadliest one. He was beloved by the smallfolk, and even ended the threat that was the outlaws. It shouldn't be shocking that he was successful in the pursuit of his beloved. 

He had been raised with chivalry in his bones, and so he made sure to do the most respectful and romantic courtship ever seen in the Seven Kingdoms, the fact that most of the time she was trying to deny him was irrelevant.

Sometimes you need to show them what love is.

Of course he understands that the Red Keep may not be the most welcoming place to live, but it's not like he will abandon his sworn duty to the king, you just have to get used to it. What do you mean he sounds condescendent?

He is not a bad husband, maybe a bit controlling, but how can you blame him when there is a mad king and so much tension brewing in each Great House.

He was from Dorne, he could understand the desire of a girl to make her own decisions, but it is a delicate situation, he kisses her forehead and says each time she comes to him with a frown.

He thought and talked about starting a family quite often, sure that the kingdom would be in greater hands soon when Aerys passed away. It's not something he will push her to do, even if he desires it.

If there is a child, they'll be left to be raised alone after his death. Duty had always in first place for him.

Masterlist

Arthur Dayne is a complicated character to write, there is not much information for him, sorry if this was out of character or bad in any way.

#yandere asoiaf #yandere game of thrones #yandere got #arthur dayne x reader #yandere arthur dayne x reader #yandere arthur dayne

[aelenavelaryon]

Robert Baratheon x Reader (pt.2)

Summary: in which the Queen gets her revenge on her husband

The return of dragons came to a surprise for the realm. It was unexpected yet a blessing, especially for Rhaenyra. Finally, dragons returned to the world. Robert was not on board with having them in King's Landing at first but after watching Rhaenyra be happy after the loss of their child he agreed. Robert, despite marrying her without love came to enjoy her company as the two enjoyed making children.

Rhaenyra choose to let her dragons roamed free in a place where they were all away from people, to avoid harming innocent people. Prince Daemon was born in the year 283, near the end of the year. His brother Orys came days after his first name day in 284. In the year 286 came the twins, Aemon and Aemond. Just a year later in 287 she lost a child, it was then that Dragons were reborn.

By 290, Rhaenyra's dragons had grown a lot. The year prior they disappeared and when they returned they were the size of an adult dragon. So, for the first time in centuries a Targaryen finally took to the skies on dragonback. Balerion, the dragon she rode flew her to a part of the Keep that was abandoned and where he kept dragons eggs.

Rhaenyra brought Dragon Keepers to the Keep to help with the dragons and their eggs. The eggs, which were enough to give to each one of her children and brother, were kept warm and ready in the children's room. Finally, after five years of trying for a daughter, a girl finally came. Well, more like two. Rhaena and Helaena came during the summers of 290. By then, her children all had dragons eggs. Prince Daemon had claimed Caraxes, while his brother's hatched their eggs. Orys named his Eros. Aemon named his Moonfyre and Aemond named his Meraxes. Princess Rhaena and Helaena's dragon eggs hatched the same day of their birth.

King Robert threw a feast in honor of their first name day. By then, queen Rhaenyra had given him four sons and two daughters. Princess Rhaena was said to be as wild and defiant as her mother in her youth. Rhaena had the Targaryen hair and eyes, while her twin, princess Helaena had black hair and blue eyes like his father but she was as quiet and calm as her late grandmothers, queen Rhaella and Lady Cassana Baratheon. Robert was a decent king who took the input of his queen. They had a quiet a decent marriage.

Since the day they married Robert kept to his wife's and his own chambers. He slept with no other woman that was not his wife. Some had said he changed for the better and Eddard Stark could attest to that. Rhaenyra's life was good. She had no worries. Everything was just perfect.

The news reached her a few weeks later. Robert Baratheon had slept with Cersei Lannister or so she claimed. Cersei was a girl of three and twenty. She was yet to be married as her father hadn't found her a good match yet. Rhaenyra when she heard said nothing. Robert even thought she hadn't heard but she had. She knew, thanks to her little birds that Jaime was Cersei's lover. So, her plan was to take Jaime from Cersei. It was her goal to make him loyal to her.

Her plan began the very next day. She had asked Robert for a new guard. Stating that with six children it was better for them and her to have extra security. The king agreed. She smiled and acted as if nothing was happening. When Cersei was forced to move the keep by her father's order, Rhaenyra was forced to confront her husband.

Robert entered their shared chambers. "Nyra" she looked away. Rhaenyra was two and twenty. She had given her husband six children. She never complained nor did she cause him any problems. She simply did her duty, ever the dutiful her mother used to say. "I have never asked anything of you, nor have I ever caused you trouble or any problems. I have stood by you for the last seven years. I married you despite everything. I am no saint, nor have I ever been. I brought a son into a marriage that was not yours. You loved him and took care of him as if he was your own. And in return I gave your four sons with your blood and two daughters with your blood" there was a brief silence. "Where our children not enough?" she asked. "Was I not enough?" she asked.

Rhaenyra had never been insecure. How could she? She was a Targaryen, their beauty seemed to be god like and now, with her dragon being a god seemed far more possible than before. "I love you, Robert. But I will not be the person you treat like a common whore. If Cersei gives you a bastard child I will give you one too. And if she gives you another so will I" she said. Robert was too stunned to speak. She gave him on chance to speak before she left their shared chambers, Arthur and Jaime following behind.

Rhaenyra knew Cersei's greatest love was Jaime, and she rarely even allowed him to wonder far from her. Jaime didn't mind, watching over her gave him some sort of relief as he felt guilty for killing her father years back. He also wanted to keep her safe as he could not keep Elia and her children. Jaime was also avoiding his sister, as much as she would try to find him but he would walk the other way or ignore her pleas to talk. Over the months the good relationship between the queen and king perished in the blink of an eye. King Robert returned to his drunken and whoring ways.

Cersei Lannister gave birth to a son who she named Joffrey Baratheon, a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be all his father but the eyes. A year later, in the year 292, queen Rhaenyra gave birth to a son, a boy she named Rhaegar Targaryen and a daughter who she named Rhaella. The boy had blonde white hair. His eyes were the same eyes of princess Alyssa Targaryen, wife of Baelon Targaryen. One green eye and purple. Her daughter, princess Rhaella had a her grandmother's looks. Ser Jaime Lannister was the first one to hold his two children. A little princeling he used to call him and his little baby girl. Jaime and Rhaenyra were the ones who picked the names.

Robert knew but he said nothing as the guilt of returning to his old habits returned. Prince Jacaerys came four years after his sisters, then, a year after him came Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra had always loved those names and had always wanted to name one of her sons like them. Prince Jacaerys had dark brown hair and purple eyes, his brother Lucerys was just like his brother. Queen Rhaenyra bore thirteen children at the short age of thirty. Her last two children were girls. Daughters. Visenya and Daenerys, daughters of Ser Arthur Dayne.

Eddard Stark never married, instead he served his queen Rhaenyra his entire life. And of course he took care of their two sons. Ned had became her closest companion alongside Arthur and Jaime Lannister. She had no other allies at court but them. At least, she didn't trust anyone else but them. Cersei gave Robert three more children. Tommen, Myrcella and Joanna but they were known as bastards since they were not married.

On the queen's name day, a thirtieth name day celebration was made in her honor. Every house in the realm attended, including Dorne, Driftmark and the North. By then, Prince Jaehaerys was nearly six and ten, Daemon was five and ten, Orys three and ten, Aemon and Aemond were one and ten, Helaena and Rhaena were eight, Rhaegar and Rhaella were nearly six, Jacaerys was four, prince Lucerys three and his sisters had just turned one.

Queen Rhaenyra, despite birthing thirteen children looked far better than most, she was grateful, she also took care great of her figure, she wanted to preserve herself as much as she could. Robert knew that seven of those children where not his. Jaehaerys had been claimed as a Targaryen despite Tywin's insistence to keep him as a bastard. Rhaenyra did not wish for her son to bear the name Baratheon or Stark. Brandon had written to her often wanting to know about his son but he not once had asked for the boy to visit him nor to be claimed as a Stark. She knew Catelyn did not like the idea of Brandon's bastard sons being in their home and possible taking Robb's birthright.

During the Queen's name day celebration things are said and revenge is plotted. They say when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground. Queen Rhaenyra is going to win, no matter what. The question is, will she succeed or will she fail?

#aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #robert baratheon #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #arthur dayne #rhaegar targaryen #ned stark #brandon stark

[blumenflowergelb]

Love and hate is the same

• Time travel was a very bitter thing, Yn decided. To see the people long dead should have made him happy but it hurt a lot. Yn lived so many years full with his past mistakes and regrets that his brain just couldn’t catch up with not seeing the consequences of the past. Waking up and realizing that yes that very strange lady in Asshai didn’t lie and he was in the past was easy. Realizing that he didn’t have his friends-companions- was harder. But he accepted it since he theoretically knew what would happen if he travels back in time. Seeing his own face, so young and unmarked by the last decade, didn’t faze him. Seeing his old room,the old servants, the old stable that was burned down by the Lannisters, his old and mostly dead acquaintances didn’t faze him. But seeing him did.

• Yn felt like somebody pulled a rug from under him. It didn’t only hurt, it burned through his whole being. His head and heart was full with longing, love and anger. He loved his silver prince and yearned for him but he couldn’t forget what he had done. Rhaegar left him, his own wife and children and doomed them and the kingdom. This mixture of feelings left his knees weak and had it not been for the stone railing Yn was sure that he would have kneeled over. He still didn’t notice him, too deep in a conversation with Arthur, his sister and Elia. Yn was thankful for this. He watched Rhaegar and his companions, thinking about what he had to do, until Ashara noticed him and looked deep in Yn‘s eyes. They stared at each other, and when Yn looked away he accidentally caught Rhaegar‘s eyes. Yn felt a butterflies in his stomach, the intensity almost made him throw up, but shame followed. And with shame came anger. The kind that burns through the soul and leaves the body hot and trembling. The kind that makes the heart heavy. The kind that you can only get after having your hearth broken in thousand tiny pieces.

• It all began when they were neither children nor adults. It was that awkward phase when they limbs suddenly grown but they couldn’t control them right. After Rhaegar has stolen a book about bed activities and a wine flask they got so drunk that Yn wasn’t able to stand up straight. They red the book loud to each other while sipping wine and Rhaegar leaned over to Yn and kissed him. While it surprised Yn, he kissed back and from one point to the other they were naked in front of the fire place. After decades Yn still couldn’t forgot the hard rug and the slight burn from them. They touched each other in a way before that neither experienced. It was magical. It felt good. And right. Of course, they continued the activities and sought enjoyment in each other companies but it was years later that they confessed. Yn wasn’t sure until that day what Rhaegar felt but the words he whispered to him made Yn warm up to this day. The intensity of Rhaegar‘s love made everyday worth living for Yn. Sadly it didn’t last. They knew that Rhaegar had to marry and after failed attempts at finding Rhaegar the bride his father wished, Elia came. At first Yn wasn’t bothered but after repeatedly seeing and hearing how well they got along Yn became jealous. Looking back it wasn’t his brightest moment but who could fault a lover for being jealous of his love slowly falling in love with somebody else?

• They argued a lot. Rhaegar denied his accusations but Yn know the truth. Maybe Rhaegar wasn’t fully in love with Elia but he liked her enough to do his duty. At the end of the day he was man who was blessed with a beautiful albeit sickly wife who gave him two children. It was enough. And this broke Yn heart. Yn felt slighted, although he didn’t know why, angry, and desperate. He wished for Rhaegar, his first friend and lover, the friend whom he trained with, watched the stars, read old books and laughed. The lover that made him feel like he was loved, was worth something beautiful, and a lover who accepted his love. But when it crashed down for the first time Yn couldn’t say what he felt because he was painfully young. So when Rhaegar begann to talk less and less with Yn, barely kissed him and they almost never truly talked, Yn became frustrated. The confrontation went as good as expected. The fought intensely, but not loudly. It was quick but hearth breaking. At the end, after telling each other the slights they felt like they suffered, Rhaegar just shook his head and told Yn that they needed some time apart. Yn took it stone faced and left. Only when he was alone in his chambers did he cry.

• Yn guessed that he traveled back in time after they argued. Nobody moved, the garden was silent and only a shout of Yn name snapped him out of it. He quickly turned around and walked towards a boy who was calling him. At first Yn didn’t even understand what was going on and why he was asked to meet with a friend in a tavern somewhere in Flea Bottom. But he felt excited when he realized who was waiting for him. After Yn left Westeros, he went to the Golden Company and met Carl the Small. Smallcarl, as he was called, wasn’t actually small but Bigcarl was at least two feet higher than an average man. Years later Yn contract ended and Carl and he decided to leave the Company with others to see the world. They adventure took them from the Shadowland to beyond Westeros and it brought both Carl and Yn closer. They were friends but sometimes when they needed a body than they went beyond brotherhood. But that didn’t change their friendship. Currently Yn only trusted him and some of his friends from the adventures the most. Before Yn payed the shadowwitch, they decided to meet in Kings Landing and try to change destiny. A hard decisions but the trust between them went deep.

• The meeting at a run down tavern lifted Yn spirits. Seeing Carl, Jonny and Majki always brought a sense of security in Yn hearth so he left with his heart lightened to do his task. Before he left, Carl hugged him and kissed his head and they agreed to meet in a few days. The second meeting went even better. They agreed on what to do, where to beginn and when. Yn left few hours later. He walked back in silence and only the darkness was around him, however he couldn’t shake of the feeling that something was wrong.

• Yn arrived to his room and after opening the door, he stopped in his track. The hearth which he left cold was now omitting warmness, there was wine and two fancy glasses on a table that he has never seen before and Rhaegar was sitting on his bed. Looking at the rumpled sheets he must have slept, Yn thought. But before he could utter a word Rhaegar stood up and motioned him towards the table. The only thing that he said was to close the door. And Yn did while trying to escape his memories.

• A week after the confrontation Yn couldn’t hold himself anymore and went back to Rhaegar. But the relationship couldn’t be safed. After Rhaegar stole Lyanna and they ended up in the Tower of Joy, they talked. Rhaegar ordered Yn in his room, waited for him with some dornish wine and when Yn declined he seemed disappointed. However when they sat down any kind of love went out of Rhaegar and he was like a block of ice. It was sad. Truly the sight of somebody you loved not loving you anymore was very heart breaking. Still Yn sat through Rhaegar‘s speech of the prophecy, of the Song of Ice and Fire and why he had to do it. It! He could tell Yn that he love him, which was clearly a lie, than in the same sentence he said that he was going to fuck the girl. And the stupid, young Yn said that he was going to stay with Rhaegar and help him! This one was his biggest shame. Supporting a man who betrayed his love, wife, children and kingdom.

• So Yn stayed and endured. He endured the courting, the kisses and loving glances. His heart broke every single time but he endured. Until the night that he had to stay before Rhaegar’s room. Lyanna went inside without looking who was protecting them. Arthur and Yn. Looking back Yn guessed that Rhaegar didn’t know who were his guards for the night but maybe it was only Yn‘s wish. He stood next to the door, listening to them having sex, until he felt like a mist before his eyes has dissolved. The bitterness spread through Yn and he didn’t even try to stop it. His love went away, replaced with a mixture of hate and hurt. The realization which he always know but never accepted made him weak. Rhaegar may have truly loved him once but it was gone. Somebody who is in love wouldn’t do this. He was angry and disappointed and tired. He just wanted to leave and never look back. His skin itched for being alone in his room to think through what he was doing to do so he just left. Arthur didn’t even try to stop him. Yn never looked back. He went in his room but it didn’t help. He craved for something he didn’t even know. Yn packed the necessities and left for somewhere.

• To see the person he hated and loved for years left Yn shaken. Rhaegar was pouring wine for both of them and sat down on the floor leaning against Yn‘s bed. While Yn did the same, however he sat down as far from Rhaegar as he could, he sipped his wine looking in the fireplace. After a few seconds that felt like hours of silence, Rhaegar turned to Yn and asked a question that left Yn surprised.

• „ Who ist Carl?“

• Yn tried to come up with an answer and Rhaegar waited. Lamely Yn only said that he was a friend. He regretted his answer after seeing Rhaegar’s face. The hurt was palpable on face. Only silence followed until Rhaegar drank his glass of wine and asked for more. When Yn handed the flask over Rhaegar softly shook his head and asked him to pour. Yn was unsure but still did it. As he poured he could feel Rhaegar’s eyes on him, and shamefully Yn admitted that he felt excited. Even after years of hurt he loved Rhaegar.

• As he was pouring Rhaegar hit him. The slap hurt like a bitch, Yn decided. It was unexpected and Yn fell over. Before he could do anything Rhaegar was on him. The kiss that followed was even more unexpected. When Yn didn’t do anything Rhaegar deepened the kiss. However both of them needed to breath and they came apart. Rhaegar looked deep in Yn eyes and caressed his face. Yn was so shocked that he couldn’t muster up enough energy do anything until he noticed Rhaegar leaning over again for a kiss. Before anything could happen Yn hit Rhaegar‘ side, got up and quickly went for the door. But he never reached it. Rhaegar almost sprung on him and they fell over. Usually Yn won over Rhaegar but this time Rhaegar was like a bull. They rolled around on the floor, hit each other, and when Rhaegar prayed Yn‘s jaw apart Yn wasn’t strong enough to stop him. Frightened Yn noticed that he had swallowed something and didn’t move. He could see himself and his fearful face in Rhaegar’s eyes.

• The kisses that followed their little fight were intense. Yn felt sluggish but hot at the same time and when Rhaegar asked him between kisses about the men he was meeting, he could barely respond. He denied Rhaegar accusations about being taken by the men and only responded that they were just friends. Rhaegar obviously didn’t believe him, and Yn realized at the back of his mind that he was jealous and angry. The kisses and touches left Yn feeling even more hotter than he already was and before he do anything both of them were naked and flushed together. Rhaegar was already on him, caressing him, and through the night they took each other several time before falling asleep.

• Waking up Yn felt awful. His stomach was upset but when he tried to lean over the side of the bed something pulled his hands back. The something was made of iron. Shocked he looked at the shackles around his wrists and then he noticed Rhaegar watching beside him. Before Yn could open his mouth Rhaegar leaned over and kissed him while laughing. This was the moment that Yn knew that he was truly fucked.

#game of thrones #asoiaf #rhaegar targaryen x reader #rhaegar targaryen #x male reader #rhaegar targaryen x male reader #light angst #time travel #arthur dayne #elia martell #yandere

[visenyaism]

feastdance dashboard simulator

💋queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

it’s so sick that people keep criticizing queen cersei as if she’s not the first female ruler of westeros??? literally elevating bastards and women to her small council is super fucking progressive as is creating the precedent of dismissing unfit kingsguard??

🪨dragonstoner Follow

aren’t all of her children literally bastards born of incest

💋 queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

oh so now you’re going to listen to stannis baratheon, known misogynist, kinslayer, fornicator, team green supporter, and homophobe, huh.

🦑pykedyke

okay guys i know there’s no “perfect candidate” but you have to vote in the kingsmoot anyways not voting is how someone like e****n g*****y wins and literally anyone is better than him. suck it up and row to the polls

🦈reaveherihardlyknowher

ohhhh not this “vote your crew no matter who” “blue lips man bad” bullshit again. fuck off idgaf which godless man sits the seastone chair i’m not voting for asha shes literally a neoliberal

🦷 lastoftheegiants

first i had to give up my rights and then i had to give up my gods just to not get killed by fucking wights but i literally cannot believe the nights watch made me give up my strap as part of the treasure ransom. shit was expensive it was IVORY. i hate southerners so much i hope the lord commander dies

🌪️kinslayerr

DO NOT COME TO THE RIVERLANDS

🍓silverspurs Follow

why

🌪️kinslayerr

there’s riverlands here

🧜‍♂️theythemderly

freys

🌾maidencool

my cousin got eaten by rats in harrenhal

🐎brackennation Follow

dumb cunts wearing raven feather cloaks strutting around who think they’re better than you but they’re not better than you

🌟sevenstar

i saw a guy get killed and then just stand back up and start fighting again because his friend kissed him on the mouth down here once

🦌whitehart

giant feral pack of 60 wolves running around

🍓silverspurs Follow

ok understandable have a nice day

🫧bastardwaters

i hate the fucking sparrows can we be normal for five minutes or can we just not have shit in the crownlands

☠️real-stormlands-patriot Follow

ITS LORD COMMANDOVER #RIPBOZO

🐦‍⬛mormonts-raven-bot Follow

CORN! DEATH! CORN!

(CAW! I follow members of the Night's Watch to remind them of their oaths!)

🦷 lastoftheegiants

????

🍋floriansjonquil

Loras Tyrell x Queen of Love and Beauty!Reader Imagines

Keep Reading

🪻maidens-smile Follow

girl this is notttttt the time he literally just fucking died at dragonstone?

💎oathkeeper

should’ve stanned jaime #LORASFELLOFF

💐flowerknight

one kill yourself jaime lannister is an honorless kingslaying turncloak two i heard loras tyrell was literally fine?

👊fleabottomtop

lord davos seaworth, the class traitor from the stannis baratheon administration, is a nasty little thottie and just died from making it clap in white harbor

🌅girlheir

this tower fucking sucks.

🌅girlheir

i’m just like rhaenyra targaryen for real

🌅girlheir

🐀ratcook5000 Follow

people meat tastes good asf when you don’t have a wench in your ear saying it violates guest right

🐺threeeyedwolf

🍒ladylance

need that targ girl in mereen to get those lizards over here and liberate this website by any means necessary cause what the fuck is going on

#asoiaf #affc #adwd #its been so long since i did one of these. missed it #valyrianscrolls

[megsironthrone]

A Secret Heir?

Based on this request: Hey if it’s something you are up too maybe one where Arthur Dayne had a secret daughter, she has his sword skills and somehow she end up in winterfell when Robert is here, they all recognized her as the true heir of Arthur and she end up with Robb stark ? Maybe with her by his side he would be able to survive 😂 

Here you are! I apologize for the wait! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Warnings: Slight angst and fluff. It's a little shorter than my usual fics.

Pairings/Characters: Robb Stark x fem!reader, Robert Baratheon, Eddard "Ned" Stark.

You could feel the king's eyes on you as you trained. He'd been doing that since he arrived in Winterfell. Whenever you glanced over at him, his blue eyes were riveted on you, but he spoke quietly to your guardian. You weren't exactly sure as to why and that bothered you. Still, you said nothing to the king himself. You didn't want to embarrass Lord Stark. Not after he'd been so kind to you. But then you heard him say something that surprised you.

          "I swear, she reminds of him each time I watch." Your brows furrowed and you turned to look at the king. As you opened your mouth to ask, you saw something from the corner of your eye. You rolled your eyes before blocking Robb's blow. "Come on, Stark. You should know better than that by now." Robb chuckled, earning a smile from you. The two of you went back to training and you resolved to speak to the king at a later time.

          You wouldn't get the chance to speak to the king for many days after over-hearing his comment, but the words stuck with you. Who could you possibly remind the king of? Your father, perhaps. "What is on your mind, my love?" Robb's soft voice reached your ears. You smiled at him. You weren't sure when you'd fallen in love with Robb, but you would be thankful every day that he was in your life loving you.

          "Something the king said. I remind him of someone. A man, I think. But I'm not certain who I could possibly remind the king of. Probably my father, but I never knew the king new my father." Robb hummed in thought as his arms wrapped around your middle. "Perhaps we should ask Father." You hummed a little. You hated bothering Lord Stark with such trivial matters. Then again, he was soon to be your goodfather so perhaps you could, just once.

          "My Lord?" you called out when you saw him again. The older man stopped and turned to you with a smile. You approached him quickly with Robb on your heels. "What has you both in such a hurry?" Robb merely pointed at you. "Lord Stark…Who do I remind the king of?" Ned's lips turned down into a frown and you could see he was hesitant to answer.

          "Please. Is it my father? Does he hate my father too?" Lord Stark looked taken aback by the fierceness in your tone. "Y/N, love," Robb stated quietly, but Ned cut him off, "I do not hate your father, Y/N. I respected him, but I fear you will hate me if you knew the truth. The king does not hate him either, though he does not know that you are the daughter of-"

          "Ser Arthur Dayne," the king's booming voice cut in, making you jump. You curtsied. "Your father hid you," Ned explained, "Because he was a knight. He was never allowed to marry and was never meant to have children while his vows were still being honored. That's why-"

          "That's why I'm a bastard and always will be," you replied, "I knew my father tried to protect me, but I never knew why." You glanced at Robb. Now that your true parentage had been revealed to the king, would Robb still be able to marry you? He was the son of a lord and you were a bastard.

          As if reading your mind, the king snapped out, "Don't look so glum, girl! Just because you're a bastard now doesn't mean you always will be." Your brows furrowed. The two older gentlemen simply stared at you as they waited for you to catch on. Robb chuckled lightly and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side.

          "The king can legitimize you. He could give you a title or whatever else is necessary to ensure our marriage is legitimate." You glanced back at the king with wide eyes as you silently begged him to consider it. He laughed at your expression, something you noticed he loved to do. "I think, given who your father was, you'd be a good Lady of the Winterfell in the future. I already see the most infuriating parts of your father in you, but Ned here sees the best parts of him." Without another word, the kind walked away.

          "So, we can still marry?" you asked Ned softly and he smiled. "Yes, you can still marry. Between us, Robert has a soft spot for a real love like yours and Robb's. He would do anything to keep two people so in love together, including legitimizing you simply so you can marry."

          Ned's words seemed to be law because, before you knew it, you and Robb married two nights before Ned left with your goodsisters to King's Landing. Robb was thrust into the position of acting as Lord of Winterfell in Ned's absence and you were right by his side, ready to offer whatever your new husband needed from you.          

And when Ned was executed and war began, you were right there, fighting alongside Robb. You vowed that death would be the only thing to separate you and Robb. With the skills your father taught you, you were determined to keep you both alive as long as possible. Nothing would take Robb from you. Not war. Not the Lannisters. Not the Freys. You were your father's daughter after all.

(a/n: I hope you like it! I really could not figure out how to end it.)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart @supernatural4life2022

Robb Stark Tags: @multi-fandom-imagines8 @silversprings98 @i-padfootblack-things

#game of thrones #george r.r. martin #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb x reader

[ladyviserra]

Knight | Arthur Dayne

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Female!Reader

Summary: Being in a secret relationship with a knight is already complicated enough and a hard secret to be kept under a lock.

Warnings: None

A/n: I hope anon who requested this likes it, if you want to request something feel free to do so.

He stood in front of you in all his glory. Prince Rhaegar and Ser Jon were next to him, talking of something to you unimportant.

If only you were free to run into his arms. To go hand in hand. But you were not that lucky. You, lady-in-waiting of Elia Martell and he was a knight of the Kingsguard. It would never work out.

Arthur was so sweet to you, that if he said a single positive word you would believe that one day it shall be the day you become his wife and lady. He will father your children and you will live happily ever after. It would be a nice story. But it wasn't your story.

" Arthur. " You breath as he hugged you. You closed the doors of the room you just entered.

" Y/n. How have you been my lady? " You laughed at the question you heard from him repeatedly.

" I am great. What about you? "

" As good as every time I see your beauty, my lady. " You giggled at him, pushing his arm playfully.

" You don't have to call me lady when we are alone. " His arms wrapped around your waist, your head laid on his neck. The warmth you felt in his presence couldn't match even the Dornish sun. He was what you needed in the dull King's Lading that made you miserable. The only good in it were your friends the princess and other ladies and him. Ser Arthur Dayne.

" It suits you. " He spoke before he could realise what he said. Yes, you looked like a lady and one day you will be a lady of some castle with your lord husband and a couple of children. And even then the only man who will ever know your heart will be trapped in King's Landing.

" It's alright. " Your soft nature made him comfortable. With you, he didn't have to show his nobility or glory. Nor be impressive. Arthur Dayne next to you was Arthur Dayne. And no one else.

" I am afraid I must go. " He moved away from your embrace, you nodded in understanding.

" When will I see you again? " Before his duties could take him away, you needed to know for how long will your lonely heart have to wait until it could be close to it's admirer.

" I hope to see you this night. " You finally smiled at the man who by what you thought was the best days in your life.

" I see you soon then, my knight in shining armour. "

" Till I see you my bright star. " Waving as he returned to what he was supposed to do. Excitement played on your face with the light no one has ever seen before you met Arthur.

#arthur dayne #arthur dayne x reader #arthur dayne imagine #asoaif imagine #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #house dayne #arthur dayne x you

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Exiled

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.

#arthur dayne fanfic #arthur dayne fanfiction #arthur dayne x reader #got reader insert #got fandom #got fanfic #got fanfiction #asoiaf fic #asoiaf reader insert #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fandom #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Sorry! Same anon who just requested the Arthur dayne one- could I change it to summer wine please? Just realized lavender fields has already been done:) thank you!!

Hello! I know you asked for NSFW, but I’m not sure how NSFW you wanted it, so I’ve erred on the side of caution and stuck to kissing.

“A knight’s kiss”

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Fem. Reader (Second Person POV) | Location: Lannisport, 276 AC (The Tourney to honor Prince Viserys’ birth) | Prompt: Summer Wine

Themes: Soft | NSFW | Secret romance

Warnings : Kissing | Some sensuality | Mention of alcohol use

Word Count: 800+ words

Summary: Arthurs shares a private moment with you before he has to return for the final tilt.

A/n: Since there is no proper physical description for Arthur, I’ve decided to go with him having purple eyes, similar to his sister.

Minors DNI | 🔞 | You are responsible for the media you consume.

Arthur retreated to his tent, deep in thought.  

He removed his helm and gauntlets, wincing when pain cut through his limbs like a knife. The jousts had already exacted a heavy price. His entire body was bruised and sore. His right arm throbbed and ached with dull fire. Arthur could do nothing but collapse into the nearest chair, thinking to make the most of this brief respite before he had to return to the lists at dusk for one last ride.

One final tilt remained, and he was sure to emerge the victor of this tourney. That should have pleased Arthur had it not been for his next foe: a young man of ten and eight who happened to be the crown prince and son of a king fighting a losing battle against the madness that had blighted so many of his forebearers. He groaned and muttered an oath, then allowed himself a few whimpers while stretching out in his chair.

"Are you well, ser? Your squire said you wanted to be alone for a while."

Arthur looked over his shoulder and found you standing by the entrance, your hair limned in the dying light of the setting sun. 

"I am, and I did ask to be alone," he admitted before rewarding you with a weak smile. "But your presence is always welcome. Is it time?"

"Almost." The thick carpet muffled the sound of your footsteps while you made your way into the dim, cool interior of the tent. "Your squire promised to come and fetch you when the Master of Revels calls you and the prince to the lists. Is there anything you need, ser?"

"Just stay a little while," implored Arthur. "At least until they call me to the lists."

You look back to the entrance of the tent. The campgrounds had been empty; everyone had crammed themselves into whatever seat they could find in the viewing stands, their cheers rising like a great wave. Still, it was too great a risk. No one besides Ser Owell and Ser Gerold knew about you and your white knight, and should word reach wagging tongues, reputations would be dragged through the mud and ruined. 

"If someone came upon us," you cautioned, "if someone walks in here and finds me with you—"

"No one will come upon us," Arthur swore, and he took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Please. Y/n. Stay with me."

Lavender eyes worn down by many cares filled with silent pleading. You look back at the entrance again. Not a soul could be seen or heard. You took a deep, steadying breath and inched closer. Arthur surprised you by tugging on your hand and pulling you onto his lap.

Sparks spread just beneath your skin even as you giggled and said, "You forget yourself, ser."

Vivid lavender eyes darkened for a moment. "Only when I am with you," Arthur answered. "Now tell me, sweet lady. Will you reward me in every way possible if I emerge victorious?"

"Arthur!" A flash of heat crept up your throat and bloomed in your cheeks. "You should not speak of such things! What if someone hears?"

Arthur chuckled as he reached for you. A large, calloused hand caressed your cheek and then played with your hair. The warmth from his touch made you sigh wistfully and press your cheek against his palm.

"No one will hear," Arthur reminded you, "because everyone is waiting for the final tilt to start."

You look up at him and find rare amusement glinting in his oft-sad eyes. And he was right. No one was around, and precious moments like this were already few and far between.

"Well," you began, "since you put it that way, ser, I will first reward you with a dance."

"Several," Arthur insists, grinning wickedly. "And I insist you join me for sweet summer wine. After that–"

He dipped his head and pressed his lips over yours. Arthur held you in a loose embrace while he kissed you hungrily, and kissed you until you quivered against cold armor. The dark stubble on his cheeks was coarse when it brushed against your skin, but his lips and tongue tasted sweet.

It was a long, lingering kiss, one that turned your bones to water. Arthur crushed you hard against him when you moaned in pleasure and returned his kiss with equal fire. He grew drunk on the sweet sounds that you made, how you yielded and unraveled completely. And he had to end it, lest either of you forget yourselves completely. Arthur withdrew, albeit reluctantly, before resting his forehead against yours.  

"Dances," he repeated, his voice thick and hoarse. "And new summer wine. And more. So much more. Is this agreeable to you?"

You considered his request: to dance and sample new summer wine before escaping to a quiet corner no one knew of so the two of you could do more than embrace and kiss. 

"Yes," you decide. Distant cheers and applause reached a thunderous crescendo. The final tilt was about to start. "To all of it. I agree to all of it." 

#arthur dayne #arthur dayne imagine #arthur dayne x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request #house dayne #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #microfiction

[ode-to-fury]

Winter Thorns and Iron Crowns Pt 14

Summary: Tower of Joy scene and aftermath

Pairings: Stannis Baratheon x reader, Arthur Dayne x reader

Disclaimer: I’m so sorry, but I really love this chapter. Again, there’s sensitive content so be careful.

Oswell was sharpening his sword with a whetstone as Ned and Y/n rode up with the others. Hiwland Reed rode on Ned’s right hand. The three knights stood at their approach and faced them, though none drew weapons, allowing the Northerners to come closer.

Ser Oswell stood to the left, Gerold in the middle, and Arthur to the right. He had a sad smile on his perfect lips, and Y/n’s heart ached to see him. The Dornish sun had darkened his skin, and his piercing violet eyes held a weariness she had never before seen in them.

They did not find her face.

“I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said, taking a step forward. He face Arthur as if they were having a conversation at a feast.

“We were not there,” Gerold answered in his stead.

“Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” Oswell supplied. Y/n’s hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, though she knew it would be folly to draw now.

“When King’s Landing fell, Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were,” she said instead. Ned put a hand out to stop her stepping up next to him, and she ground her teeth in annoyance. She scowled at Arthur, daring him to look at her, but his eyes remained fixed on Ned’s face.

“Far away,” Gerold’s deep voice drew her attention, “Or Aerys would yet sit on the Iron Throne and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”

“I came down on Storm’s End to lift the siege,” Ned told them, “and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.”

Her head whipped to Arthur when he spoke, and his voice broke her heart in two.

“Our knees do not bend easily,” said ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard, and there was no trace of softness or humour in his voice.

“Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him,” Ned was still speaking, though she had no idea why.

“Ser Willem is a good man and true,” said Oswell. “But not of the Kingsguard,” Gerold pointed out. “The Kingsguard does not flee.”

“Then or now,” Arthur said, hard.

“Don’t do this, Arthur,” Y/n gasped out, even as the seven men Ned had brought moved up next to him, because she knew no words could change the paths the two of them now walked.

At the sound of his name his head jerked toward her, and their eyes locked, and the pain she saw reflected in them hurt worse than Rhaegar’s wound, than her broken ribs.

She was still weak from the wound. The stitches Maester Cressen had given her had stayed put this time, but she could barely move, and her head spun when she stood next to Ned. Her sword was too heavy for her arms, not to mention the three broken ribs.

“Let us through to Lyanna,” she tried, desperately. No matter the hurt, the betrayal, no matter what he had done, she cared for him still. Her anger vanished in the face of what must be done.

But it was Lyanna in that tower, whether she had chosen to go or no. It was Lyanna.

His eyes glittered as he looked at her, and there was no mirth in them, no victory. Only despair, only pain.

Yet the curtains were open, the players had taken the stage.

Now the play must commence.

He made no move to draw his sword, but his stance spoke of stone, of danger.

“My king commanded me to watch the tower,” he said, and the faint hurt in his voice almost broke her. “My honour binds me.”

“Damn your honour,” she hissed, wanting to cry and rage and scream, but all of it turned to ice in her chest as Ned stepped in front of her, between them.

“I loved you, coward,” she said over her brother’s shoulder.

“I love you still,” was his pained reply.

That was too much, unfair even.

“Don’t,” she said, and she clutched her side as the breathing made her ribs ache, as her eyes burned and her heart cracked again and again and again, “Don’t you dare call this love.”

He did not answer her.

“Let us through to my sister,” Ned said. His own sword was drawn, and his tone was low and dangerous.

“We swore a vow,” Gerold explained.

“And now it begins,” Arthur said, and took a step forward. Her knight was gone. He donned his helm, white like the rest of his kingsguard armour, and drew Dawn. The sword glittered with starfire in the Dornish sun.

“No,” Ned said, and he took a step forward as well. “Now it ends.”

The men came together with a ring of steel.

“Go,” he had said to her softly before they arrived. “We will draw their attention. Get Lyanna and leave, and do not stop, not for anything.”

She had heard the implication in his words, and swallowed down bile as she nodded.

One of them will be dead when this ends, and I can do nothing.

Even if she had not broken her ribs, or if Rhaegar had not injured her, she’d be no match for Arthur. Not now, not ever.

So instead she ran, and trusted that Ned could hold them long enough for her to find Lyanna and escape.

She ran even harder, racing for the stairs, knowing she didn’t have time to waste.

Up, up and up she went, her back was burning, and every breath felt like being pounded in the chest by Robert’s hammer, but she dare not slow, not now, not when she was so close.

There were no guards in the tower, so she did not need to unsheathe her sword.

Where are you, Lya?

As if in answer, a low, pained moan sounded from a doorway to her left, and she sprinted down there, bursting into the room to see-

“No,” she whispered.

She rushed forward and caught her sister’s hand, sitting down on the bed where Lyanna lay, uncovered, and drenched in sweat. The sweat was the least of it, however. Lyanna was pale, shaking, and the sheets between her legs were soaked in blood that ran down her thighs.

Too much blood, she thought, horrified. Too much.

All thoughts of escape left her mind at once.

The wetnurse Rheagar had left with her had jumped away at Y/n’s entrance. Y/n hardly saw her.

She brushed the hair that stuck to Lyanna’s sweating forehead back, and her fingers came back slick with her sister’s sweat.

“Y/n?” Lyanna opened blurry eyes and looked up at her. Slowly, a tired smile spread over her face.

“Hush,” Y/n said. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. “Hush, it’s alright now.”

She swept her hand over Lyanna’s hair, again and again and again, like it would do something.

“I’m here now.”

Lyanna’s hand squeezed hers.

“Where is...” her sister trailed of, took a deep breath and started again.

“Where is Rheagar?”

“Dead,” Y/n whispered. “Robert killed him.”

“Good.”

She smiled again, and closed her eyes. Y/n’s shoulders shook with the force of her sob, and her ribs ached and burned with every breath, but she barely felt the pain.

“Just a little longer, Lya,” she managed softly, trying to stay calm, trying to convince herself. “Ned is right outside, and when he gets here, we will be together. We’ll go home.”

She choked on the word. Home.

She wanted it so badly it hurt more than anything else that had happened to her. To ride out with Ned and Lyanna and ride straight up North to Winterfell.

“We can go ride horses in Barrowton,” she said, ceasing stroking Lyanna’s hair only long enough to wipe the tears and snot from her face with the back of a shaking hand, “And run around in the Wolfswood. Do you remember Barrowton, Lya? All the rolling hills and little streams?”

Lyanna nodded, and Y/n saw a small tear leak out of her closed eye as well. It rolled down her cheek and joined the sweat beaded on her neck.

“I remember,” her voice was scarce more than a whisper. “The wolfswood too. You would always get yelled at for wandering off.”

Another sob ripped through Y/n.

“My son,” Lyanna said, and she suddenly opened her eyes. “Y/n, you must take my son North. Take him to Winterfell, Barrowton, everywhere, you must.”

She squeezed Y/n’s hand with a savage strength.

“You’ll show him yourself, Lya,” she said, but her voice shook too much, her hand stroking Lyanna’s hair moved too quickly. “You’ll show him yourself, and he’ll grow up and be just as strong as Brandon. Ned is almost here.”

Another tear rolled from Lyanna’s eyes.

“No,” Y/n said, tears coming in earnest now, her vision blurring. “No, no don’t leave me. You can’t leave me. You’re supposed to be my big sister. Don’t leave me.”

The last was a mix of sobs and words, and Y/n did not know who she was pleading with anymore.

Old gods, please. Please don’t take her from me as well. Please.

And then suddenly Ned was there, and Lyanna was gesturing for the wetnurse to hand him the babe.

“Take him North,” she said to them. “Promise me you will take him North. Promise me, Ned.”

Sobs wracked Y/n as Ned nodded, and he was crying as well as he held the small baby. He had a thick head of brown hair, just like Benjen had had, and grey eyes that sparkled slightly, Lyanna’s eyes.

And then Lyanna Stark took one last look at the both of them, and breathed her last.

She did not know how long they stayed there. How long she cried for.

We were supposed to stay together. That’s what twins are for.

It was Howland Reed that found them. Howland Reed that took Ned’s hand from Lyanna’s and led him and the wetnurse outside. Howland Reed that took the child.

Y/n took a look at the babe in his arms, but her stomach clenched with rage, and she looked away again.

“We must take her bones north,” Ned said thickly as they walked outside, “to lie beside father and Brandon.” He was making plans to avoid his grief, she knew. She was so deeply in her grief she could not avoid it if she tried.

Outside, it was carnage. Six northern lords lay, staring at the sky unseeing, in pools of blood already soaking into the Dornish sands.

In the midst of three of them...

She ran forward, but felt her knees buckle before she reached him. Already the sobs had returned full force. The last paces she crawled on hands and knees until she reached his side, not feeling the sands scorch her palms.

Her vision was so blurred from tears that she could not see his face as she lifted off his helm and took his head in her lap. She screamed, so loud and long she thought she must have torn something. Her hands shook as she held Arthur Dayne’s corpse, white armour glinting in the sun, white cape made red by his own blood. She rocked him back and forth like he was merely sleeping, like he would wake up in a few moments and make some jest about her dramatics.

She felt Ned’s arms around her, but could not open her eyes to look at him.

“It’s alright,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

It isn’t alright, she wanted to say, I loved him, Ned. I loved him, and it wasn’t enough to save him. Nothing is alright.

The words lodged in her throat, however, and all she could do was cry until she had no more tears to cry.

“Y/n,” he said eventually, “We must leave. We promised we would take the babe North.”

She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. Rage, sudden, blinding, dried her tears as much as was possible.

She stood shakily, and looked at the bundle of cloth that Howland Reed held in his arms, unsure.

Everyone she’d loved, everyone she’d cared about, including two sweet children not much older than this, had died so this child could be born?

“We do not have to take him North,” she said softly. Ned took a step back from her, and she felt him tense.

“I gave her my word,” he said.

The word of Ned the Lord, she thought bitterly.

“He is a child,” Ned said.

She looked back at the child.

Lyanna’s eyes.

“Then take him, Ned,” she finally said. This child was all she had left of all of them. Lyanna, Rhaegar, Arthur, even Elia. All she had left of any of it.

“Please,” she said. “Take him, care for him- “

“You’re not coming home.”

She looked at her feet.

“Winterfell has never been my home. Not like it was yours, or Brandon’s.”

When she glanced up at him, he was still resigned. That is how he had gone through this war, with resignation. Before Lyanna’s death, she had not known she’d made a decision.

“My place is here,” she said. “I can do more good in King’s Landing than in Winterfell.”

She didn’t add that she could not go back. Would not. If she went back, she would have to face Winterfell and know, every second of her life, that Lyanna and Brandon and her father were dead. Never again would she laugh with them, or see them, or hold them. Winterfell would be full of ghosts.

King’s Landing as well, but here there were living too. Robert, Jon, Jaime, Ashara.

Stannis, her heart whispered, even as it clenched with guilt for the corpse at her feet.

She helped Ned and Howland build cairns for his men.

“Go North,” she told Ned. “Take Lyanna home to lie beside father. Take the boy, raise him like she would have.”

“And you?”

“I’ll return Dawn to Starfall, where she belongs, and then I’ll ride for King’s Landing, and try to keep your halfwit friend’s kingdom afloat for him.”

They looked at each other. She could not bring herself to embrace him, though she had a feeling she would not see him again for a very long time.

“Tell the wolves to remember me,” she said softly.

“They will,” he said, frowning, again that resignation in his shoulders. “The North remembers, and you are a Stark of Winterfell.”

She almost smiled, though her heart ached now more than ever, having to say goodbye to Ned as well. She frowned when she looked at the babe again.

“He will be dangerous, one day,” she said.

“But not today,” came his reply. “Today he is a babe, and he is probably hungry. Today it is spring, little sister.”

“Today it is spring,” she echoed. They nodded to each other one last time, and then he and Howland Reed mounted and headed north, taking the wetnurse with them.

She built a cairn for Arthur too, and on one of the rocks, with a knife, she carved his name.

Damn you, she thought bitterly as she mounted Tempest. She winced as she did, and clenched her teeth against the pain. Which pain, she was no longer sure.

He made his choice, the words did nothing to dispel her tears. He made his choice and he did not choose me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The guards that lord Dayne had sent to see Y/n back to King’s Landing had turned around leagues back, unwilling to go closer to the city only recently sacked by their enemy in the war. The only thing that had kept Y/n safe in their company on the ride back was respect for their lord.

She was bone-tired as the gates of King’s Landing neared, silent, broken. The city was no longer aflame, and most of the chaos seemed to have subsided. Across the Blackwater and through the King’s Gate she rode, nodding at the ragged Gold Cloaks stationed there, straight up past ruined houses and soot-stained avenues still rebuilding. In the black waters of the bay and river mouth, ships were assembling. She spotted Fury, the flagship of the Baratheon fleet, as well as many others, Queen Alysanne, Lady Johanna, Dragonfire, whilst even more were being built. “It seems they are assembling a fleet,” she whispered to herself. There were only two reasons an assault at sea was being planned, and since the Ironmen posed no immediate threat, there was just one.

Dragonstone.

Queen Rhaella was there, with prince Viserys and the remaining Targaryen loyalists.

Y/n clenched her jaw against the ache in her chest. The queen had been a second mother to her, an only mother for half of her youth. Prince Viserys had tugged on her braids and laughed in his cradle when she pulled faces at him.

Damn you, Robert, she thought bitterly. And then even more bitterly, she thought, And you, Rhaegar. I hope you’re rotting, wherever you are.

King’s Landing was silent like she could never remember it being. A few men and women looked her up and down from the mouths of alleys, but a careful flick of her cloak, allowing the setting sun to catch the hilt of her sword was enough to deter them.

Tempest snorted as they neared the Red Keep, sensing the stables were close.

“Almost there, boy,” she said as she patted his neck. Her voice sounded rough from disuse.

He knew the way home, and she barely had to pay attention to where he was going. It was a good thing, too, because her eyes and her shoulders drooped like they were weighted.

A stableboy was there the second she dismounted, taking the reins from her and leading Tempest away. Her ribs and back ached as she stood up, but she only allowed herself a small grimace of pain, because the groomsman was not the only one to greet her at the door.

“Jon,” she said, nodding at the older man. He’d come with his household guard.

“Y/n,” he said back, dipping his head slightly. “I trust you had a safe journey?”

“Take me to the Robert, Jon,” she sighed. “I want to sleep, not waste time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stannis was listlessly picking at a dinner of bread and fruit when a knock came at his door.

“Enter.”

The door opened, and there stood a dream. She still wore travel clothes, stained from sweat and covered in dust. Her hair was in disarray and falling out of the braids holding it back from her face

“Don’t go,” was the first thing she said. Her voice was rough and dry, unnatural.

He stood up quickly, trying to ignore the beating of his heart at the sight of her. She’d startled him.

“Don’t go,” she said again, and he finally recovered enough from the shock of her presence to hear what she was saying to him.

He opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, but before he could get a word in, she took two large strides forward and threw her arms around his neck.

The shock nearly killed him.

“Gods, Stannis,” she said into his neck, “There’s barely any of you left.”

She was warm, and he’d missed her. He’d missed her so damned much it was a physical thing. The relief of seeing her, alive, unharmed, he almost sagged from it. She was too close to him; he couldn’t seem to find a breath.

“Enough,” he managed. Too hard, too cutting.

She jerked away from him, and his jaw clenched. He couldn’t make up his mind, could not think when she was so close to him.

“You don’t have to go to Dragonstone,” she said. “We can convince him to send someone else. Jon and I can convince him not to go at all- “

She stopped when he shook his head.

“I have Robert’s orders,” he said shortly. “My brother may be an imbecile at the best of times, but in this I fear he is correct. As long as there are Targaryens drawing breath his throne is in jeopardy.”

“They’re children,” she breathed out. “She was a mother to me, Stannis.”

She was searching his face for something, though he did not know what.

What he did know was that she was hurt. She flinched as she breathed, and there were small cuts over her arms and legs, and dark circles under her eyes.

In that moment, he did not want to follow Robert’s orders. He wanted, desperately, to hold her. To lie down and sleep with her in his arms. To keep her safe.

Finally, she turned away from him, walking over to the window. It was dark outside, and she would not be able to see anything but the stars, but he knew she was looking out across the bay, to Dragonstone.

“This is war, Y/n,” yet even as he said it, he hated himself. It is my duty, he reminded himself.

She took a deep, shuddering breath before turning around to face him again, her eyes bright.

“I know,” she said softly. “Gods, Stannis, I know. Is it so terrible to wish it would end?”

He shook his head, jaws clamping of their own accord. He could not find the words to soothe her, could only hope she knew him well enough to know he agreed.

I have to end it.

“Am I going to have to lose everyone I care for?” she asked softly.

“No,” he said immediately, the words tumbling out roughly before he could stop them. “Not everyone.”

Her eyes softened somewhat, and a dimple appeared in her cheek as the corner of her mouth lifted. Such a small glimpse of her smile and he felt he would be able to fly, if only she asked him to.

She nodded slightly.

“You are in pain,” he said, to distract himself from her mouth, her hair, her presence. “Allow me to summon a Maester.”

She groaned and sank down onto the window seat, wincing as she did so.

“Of course you would mother me mere seconds after I arrive,” yet there was gratitude in her eyes, or something Stannis assumed must be gratitude. “Anyone but Pycelle, please. And finish your dinner whilst we wait. You look half starved.”

He managed a small smile for her at that, and left to have a Maester summoned immediately.

#asoiaf #asoiaf fic #stannis baratheon x reader #arthur dayne x reader #stannis baratheon #arthur dayne #ned stark #lyanna stark #got fic #got x reader #got imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #stannis baratheon imagine #arthur dayne imagine

[claraswritings]

The Princess and the Knight

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: anonymous

A/N: First time writing Arthur Dayne. This is an AU where Rhaegar is king.

I’ll spell check this tomorrow - Am currently writing on my phone :)

Rhaegar had an inkling of Arthur’s interest in you from the first time you met

He noticed how Arthur always watched you whenever you were in the same room, how he tensed at any Lord who may have asked Princess Y/N for a dance at banquets, how whenever you were speaking with someone, Arthur kept a hand on his sword just in case that person could be a danger to you.

Rhaegar had also noticed how you politely declined various lords who came whispering sweet things in your ear and stole glances at Arthur instead, you’d turned down a proposal of marriage from one of your brothers many bannermen and at tourneys, you cheered the loudest when Ser Arthur fought.

Following on from this realisation, Rhaegar had decided to assign Arthur to be your personal guard.

**

It didn’t take long until Arthur soon became your close confidant and he would escort you to royal events and on walks around the grounds.

You’d formed a bond with him and considered him your dearest friend. As a plus, he was handsome and you enjoyed his company.

You had no idea he was completely in love with you.

**

The moment Arthur knew he was completely head over heels in love with you came one afternoon when you set out from the castle, your Targaryen hair covered by a shawl so the common people wouldn’t crowd around you, the princess.

You took a series of twists and turns until you reached a small run down orphanage and knocked twice.

The owner of the property, a kindly old lady greeted you with a warm smile and you slid inside and immediately took off your shawl and dropped to the ground to speak to the many children.

Arthur watched in fascination as you took a selection of toys and clothes from your basket and presented them to the children.

“The Princess visits twice a month,” the old lady who ran the orphanage spoke, to him “She’s ever so good with the boys and girls here, gives them left overs that the royal children no longer use,”

**

The whole journey back to the castle, Arthur was silent, too involved in his thoughts to make conversation, he couldn’t take his mind off you. All this time spent with you and yet he was no closer to being with you in the way he wanted.

Ser Dayne and the Targaryen Princess.

It could never be. He’d sworn his vows years ago and was a man of his word. Honourable and honest.

He’d have to tell the king he could no longer guard you.

When you reached the castle, Arthur excused himself from you and headed inside. He knew Rhaegar would be in his reading room and went there immediately

“Your Grace,” he greeted the other man dipping his head in a slight bow as he entered “I need a word if you have time,”

Rhaegar looked up from his book and smiled at his friend.

“Of course, Ser Arthur, What can I do for you?”

Arthur took a deep breath “I can...I can no longer guard the Princess,”

Rhaegar leant back in his seat. “Tell me this...as my friend, not as a knight...do you care for my sister?”

Arthur paused. He wondered what was coming next. “I do, your Grace, Y/N is the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met,”

“Then why can’t watch over her?” Rhaegar rested his chin on his hand and studied his friend.

Arthur sighed. There was no point in lying. The King had always been fair and just and he’d want honesty above all else.

“Because... I’m in love with her,”

Rhaegar smiled warmly “Arthur, You are the bravest knight, the kindest man and a true friend to me,” Rhaegar stood up and placed a hand on his friends shoulder. “I can think of no better man for my dear sister Y/N,” he continued

Arthur was slightly confused “I am a knight, Your Grace, I can’t break my vows,”

“I know,” Rhaegar nodded “but should my sister feel the same way...I could think of no better match,” he continued. “Should Y/N feel the same I’ll release you from your vows,”

Rhaegar smiled warmly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to, think on it, Ser,” he left the room.

Arthur stood, alone with his thoughts, wrestling with how or if he should tell you how he felt.

** later that day**

Arthur stepped aside to allow you to enter your chambers

“My lady,” he greeted you politely

You turned to the other guard. “Leave us, Ser. I need a word with my guard,”

The other man bowed his head slightly and left. You watched him walk out of earshot and then you turned back to face Arthur. You folded your arms across the front of your dress.

“Your chambers are ready,” he repeated himself

“I am not taking another step until you tell me what is going on,”

This was probably the first time you’d seen him look visibly nervous.

“I have no idea what you mean, Princess,”

“You’ve been acting strange ever since we returned from the orphanage, you’ve barely said a word to me all day,”

The air hung silent between you both and you waited a moment for his response.

“You know what, never mind, I thought you were my friend,” you stepped towards your chambers and made a move to push open the door, when his voice stopped you.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, standing next to your brother, you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. As I got to know you, my love grew for you. You’re so kind, so generous, so intelligent”

He paused.

“Your brother knew, he’s given his approval, so if you love me like I love you, my lady...”

You answered his question by turning around and pressing your lips to his with a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I believe we should speak with my brother, my Lord, he will have some arrangements to make,”

Arthur returned your kiss promptly. “I believe your brother can wait,” he grinned before sweeping you up into his arms.

#arthur dayne x reader #arthur dayne imagine #got imagines #got imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #got x reader

[reddeaddamnation]

Imagine: Them defending your honor [Game of Thrones] part 1

Jon Snow

The cold, yet calm spring morning in Winterfell was disturbed by loud, hysterical screaming coming from Sansa’s room. Apparently her jewelry box was stolen and the main suspect was you, her simple handmaiden. Jon ran to her room, followed by Arya and Robb closely. Arya held Sansa’s box in her hands with a guilty expression after being scolded by her brothers for pulling such pranks and now she had to return it herself. Robb flung the door open, revealing Sansa screaming and thrashing around, throwing everything in sight at you and you being on the verge of tears. “It’s not her fault.” Jon spoke calmly, but in a loud enough voice for Sansa to hear. You both looked at him, surprised and Arya stepped up to give back her jewelry box. “What?” Sansa stuttered “Where did you find it?” Jon and Arya shared a look “I saw a petty thief steal it yesterday while you were gone and we went after him.” Jon lied “But it’s not Y/N. I guarantee for her.”

Robb Stark

“What are you? A common whore?“ Your father, Walder Frey, asked in a deceivingly calm tone and his usual angry expression “Did you forget who you’re betrothed to?“. The deal was that last night, you had went out with a certain someone and one of your idiotic brothers caught you and being the fool he was, he didn’t recognize the man and immediately ran to tell on you. Your betrothed, Robb Stark stood between you and Frey, calm as ever. You were the most beautiful of Walder Frey’s many children and certainly smarter than most and that caught the attention of the young King in the North when Walder permitted him to choose a wife. “I did nothing wrong.“ you looked at your father dead in the eyes, which only made him angrier. Robb stepped up to him with a smirk on his face “She tells the truth, m’lord.“ he said with amusement “Because the man she was caught with was me.“

Benjen Stark

You both knew what you were getting yourselves into ever since the start of your relationship. And what you got yourselves into now was something very serious. The Night’s Watch had caught you both red handed as Benjen was making his way inside your home. “You, whore!” Yoren yelled and stepped forward to hit you, but Benjen stopped him by grabbing his hand “It’s not her fault!” he yelled back “She isn’t a whore! It was me! I seduced her!” Yoren only seemed to get angrier “Do you even know what this means?! You broke your vows!” They took a moment to glare ferociously at each other. You dared not move or even breathe, afraid for Benjen and for yourself. “Do you think the novices don’t sneak out at night to Moleville? Do you think they follow the rules strictly? Of course they run in the arms of whores and you know it!” For a moment Yoren seemed to assimilate his words and he bit his lip “The watch isn’t what it used to be.” he spat out and slammed the door shut on his way out.

Jaime Lannister

Jaime stopped in his tracks when he heard a poor townsman talking rather loudly to a group of men and women. He wasn’t going to turn so much attention if he hadn’t heard the name of the noble lady Y/N L/N. “She couldn’t stop sending me love letters. I can even show you! In half of them she even begged me to fuck her! What a riot!” Jaime felt anger brewing in him as he stormed over to the crowd and pushed everyone away until he got to the man who was talking. Everyone moved away from his path, frightened and some of them even tried to shush the man, but he ignored them. “Do you really think a woman as noble and beautiful as lady Y/N would possibly beg you to fuck her? You, who got out of the swinery moments ago?” Jaime yelled, startling the peasant “I forbid gossip about lady L/N by order of the queen herself!” he turned towards the crowd.

Sandor Clegane

You boldly slapped Cersei across the face “You talk so much it’s becoming annoying.” you snarled at her, which only angered her more. You were the only one as it seems, to not suck up to her and that’s why she hated you. You spoke up to her and weren’t afraid to slap her, just like you did now. Maybe she hated you more because of the fact that you were close with king Robert. “How dare you? I will have the entire King’s guard on you!” Cersei yelled and reached to grab you by the hair but was stopped by a clearing of a throat “If you raise a hand against her, the king will have the guard on you.” Sandor Clegane spoke indifferently, standing behind Cersei. “Not if he doesn’t find out what happened exactly. I promise you, L/N, you wouldn’t even know what hit you.” Cersei smirked wickedly and flipped her hair, before walking away. You merely rolled your eyes. “I didn’t need your help, Clegane.”

Arthur Dayne

The mob was screaming and cursing at you and you were afraid to move through it to get to your destination. You wondered what you did to make the people so angry. You were a noble, but did absolutely nothing to anger everyone. But of course they didn’t understand that. They see a rich woman and blame her for their poor state. You tried to back away into the castle again, but your chest met someone else’s. “My lady, I will escort you through the crowd, if you allow me to.” the familiar voice of ser Arthur Dayne spoke in a soothing manner, somewhat calming you “Please.” you whispered. He gave a signal to the men behind you and they surrounded you, shielding you from the eyes of the angry peasants. Arthur wrapped his cloak around your shoulders and held you like that, his other hand on the hilt of his sword. 

#game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #robb stark #robb stark x reader #benjen stark #benjen stark x reader #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #arthur dayne #arthur dayne x reader #Sandor Clegane #sandor clegane x reader

[thenoblehouseofdayne]

Horizon {Arthur Dayne x Stark!Reader}

WARNINGS! Suicidal thoughts and actions, mentions of death! If you are suicidal, and think this may be triggering, please exercise caution!

@olgalangdon requested: “second, you should make one with Arthur Dayne x Baratheon or Stark Reader where they are deeply in love but when the war starts Arthur breaks up with her to keep her safe. Really sad and when ned kills arthur he tells the reader and she drowns herself.”

{I changed the request slightly, and I hope that’s alright! Enjoy!}

A Stark and a Dayne. Quite an odd pair, both socially and geographically. It became no less foggy when it was factored in that Arthur Dayne was a member of the Kingsguard and had taken an oath preventing him from marrying, and despite the truly tragic circumstances, no exceptions were made. 

They’d met at a tourney nearly five years ago. Arthur- as he often was found doing- was guarding Prince Rhaegar, keeping a watchful eye over the immense crowds, and perhaps enjoying himself in the merriment of it all. 

By chance- or rather by fate- his gaze fell across the Stark sisters, seated side by side and clutching hands as they watched the joust with rapt attention. While many a suitors had fallen to Lyanna, the older of the two, she was not the beauty that had caught Arthur’s eye. 

Rather, the younger sister, Y/N Stark had him in stitches. 

And when her eyes met his, and she offered that small smile, he was hers entirely. 

It was henceforth agreed between the two, if they were to pursue this romantic dalliance, some rules needed to be outlined in advance. The two met four times a year, on the eve of each solstice. No letters were exchanged between the two. No public affection, besides a few stolen glances across crowded halls. 

And as strict as the perimeters of this relationship was, the two were happy. 

Four nights a year they would meet. Four nights a year, rain, sleet, or snow. Even when the rebellion began, they met, under cover of darkness, and exchanged quiet prayers for the other, knowing that their relationship had shifted from scandalous to traitorous overnight. The kisses were rushed now, hurried and breathless, taking advantage of any time the two had remaining. 

She begged him to run away with her, to flee to Esos, to leave this petty war behind them.

 Arthur wouldn’t hear of it. He’d sworn an oath to Rhaegar, promising to protect him with his life. That wasn’t a promise he took lightly. He took her hands in his, and stared deeply into her eyes, promising that- if he returned from the battle alive- he would run away with her. 

Arthur was not at the Battle of the Trident. There was no battle to return from. There was no Rhaegar to protect, only Lyanna, and their child. 

He felt his heart growing heavy in his chest, watching the approaching Ned Stark. She would never forgive him, not if he returned with such a monstrous deed on his back. He would never see her again. This seemed to awaken the warrior within him, and he unsheathed the dual blades, eyes narrowing in the bright sun. “Your sister,” he mentioned- a bit lowly. “I hope she can learn to forgive me.”

He died with her name on his lips. 

It was a few weeks before Ned returned. While she was anxious to see her brother again, she was more anxious to hear news of her Arthur. She’d heard the news of Rhaegar’s death, and only hoped that it didn’t weigh on him too heavily. A battlefield was chaos personified, and no man could be protected from its reaping. 

So, she sat, pacing and praying and pacing again, until a mounted stallion came into view over the crest of the far hill. Her brother- his horse slowly trotting and making hoof-prints in the snow- with a babe clutched to his chest. His expression was solemn, as it often was these days, and he made no noise as he dismounted. He quietly greeted his wife, promising to later explain the infant when he’d received a decent amount of rest. It was the hopeful expression of his youngest and only remaining sister that made him pause. 

“Ned.” She breathed with relief, winding him into a tight hug that squeezed his ribs almost painfully. “Thank the Gods you’re alive.”

He smiled tersely, pressing a light kiss to her forehead, and holding her shoulders loosely. “It’s good to know to know you’re safe.” He replied, releasing her after the fact. 

It was nearly three days before Ned told her the truth about what had happened to her Arthur. He waited until the two were alone to tell her the truth- the full truth. She’d remained silent throughout it all, staring only at her hands. When he finished speaking, there was a lasting silence that sobered the room. 

Ned waited for some sign- some indication of her emotional state. He’d expected her to dissolve into sobs, to attempt to beat him, to curse the Gods that had subjected her to such cruelty. But instead she sat in pensive silence, utterly and peacefully still. 

Minutes stretched lengthily into an hour, and a chill seemed to eat away at the shock remaining within her. He was dead. Her Arthur, her soulmate, the center of her world had been snatched away in an instant. She felt the darkness pressing on her, for her sun had been snuffed out, and she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been left alone in the dark for the first time. 

Ned’s steps were quiet, and he pulled the younger girl to his chest, pressing a soft kiss atop her head. No more words, none were needed, it was only actions that mattered now. His soft steps followed him out. 

Hours stretched into a day, and pensive she remained. 

She’d spoken only once, to call for a bath. 

The servants prepared it readily, exchanging worried glances at the peculiar state of the Lady for which they’d cared her entire life. 

Lifting a hand, she dismissed them, and approached the steaming bath. Still in her nightgown, she stepped into the water. She embraced the scald against her leg, the second one following shortly. The rest of her form was submerged soon after, the water nearly lapping at her collarbone. Opalescent fabric clung to her body, and ever so slowly, she sunk beneath the waves, disappearing below the horizon. 

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