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Author's Note: I'm back with another Rhaenyra x Criston stories. I plan to share stories monthly, as there are only few of Rhaenyra x Criston stories remaining.

This story continues from the previous oneshot I wrote, which is still untitled. This time, we’ll explore Ser Criston’s perspective. In the next chapter, I’ll ensure that Rhaenyra and Criston engage in some lively dialogue and a title for the oneshot. Enjoy!

ONESHOT #1 CONTINUATION

Ser Criston stood watch like a lone wolf under the cloak of night, his senses sharp and alert. Memories of the evening with the princes danced in his mind, igniting a fire of longing within him. In this stillness, while the world around him lay in slumber, he remained ever vigilant, anticipating a threat that loomed in the shadows. Little did he know, the true danger was embodied in the very princess he admired.

As dawn broke, it was time for him to relinquish his post and seek rest, knowing that the day ahead would be long and filled with duty once more. Yet, a storm of anxiety brewed within him at the thought of facing the princess after their shared moment. Would he be able to maintain his composure? His thoughts raced like wild stallions, each one more frantic than the last, until the door swung open, revealing the one who had ensnared his heart. His pulse quickened, thundering in his chest like a galloping steed. Could she hear it? And if she did, would she embrace what lay between them?

The princess approached Ser Criston with a radiant smile that lit up her already enchanting features. "Good morning, Ser Criston," she greeted, her voice like a gentle melody. Ser Criston felt his tongue tie itself in knots, stumbling over his words like a fish flopping out of water. "G-Good morning, Princess," he finally managed to utter, his heart racing.

As he pondered the day’s events, his reverie was interrupted by the princess's voice "If someone seeks me, kindly tell them, I am in the library." It struck him as odd; the library was not her usual haunt at this hour. Typically, she preferred the shade of the werewood tree, where she would lose herself in the pages of her favorite tales.

A flicker of concern crossed his mind, and he considered following her, wanting to keep her company and stand guard at the entrance. But his thoughts were abruptly halted when she added, "It's okay, Ser Criston, I will go alone. Please take some rest. The day is long, and you require energy for your daily duty."

Ser Criston, ever the stubborn knight with the fiery spirit of his Dornish heritage, couldn't help but interject. "Might I inquire, Princess, what brings you to the library at such an hour?"

"I wish to explore some books that I have yet to read," Princess Rhaenyra replied, her voice steady and resolute.

"But at this hour?" Ser Criston pressed, a hint of disbelief in his tone. He relished this rare moment of conversation, granted by her own request. Others would surely envy the connection they shared, yet the princess remained unfazed.

"The time I choose to spend and the places I visit are of no concern to you," she retorted, her gaze unwavering.

Caught off guard, it was the first time the princess had addressed him in such a manner. Her unwavering gaze met his with a determination that was unmistakable; after all, she was Rhaenyra Targaryen, forged from the flames of her lineage, resolute and unyielding. He found himself at a loss for words.

Noticing the confusion etched on his face, the princess softened her tone. "I apologize for my sudden outburst. I understand your responsibilities, Ser Criston, but may I have a moment to myself?"

"Of course, Your Highness," he replied, the words slipping from his lips. Yet, beneath the surface, a desire to delve deeper into her thoughts stirred within him. He longed to offer his support, to uncover the weight she carried, but he held his tongue.He knew better than to defy her wishes.

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Author's Note: It's been some time since I shared a story, and the number of Criston Cole haters seems to be growing😂. While season two was tough for me, seeing Milly with Fabien truly warms my heart. I feel inspired to write a story about them.

This story may lack a clear plot, but I simply expressed my thoughts as they came. I'm still developing my skills in structuring plots and storylines. I hope you enjoy!

FIRST LOVE

"Mother, who was your first love?" the little one asked, his tiny fingers weaving through her hair as he spoke, blissfully unaware that his mother had drifted into a sea of memories.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed through the room, a forceful rap that could rattle anyone caught in a moment of mischief. But Rhaenyra remained undisturbed, lost in her own thoughts, unaffected by the commotion outside.

The door swung wide, unveiling the answer. "The king seeks you, princess," he rasped, his voice rough and strained, as if the very name he struggled to say was a dagger to his heart. It was as though the weight of his emotions choked him, leaving his words barely audible. Rhaenyra tenderly lifted the young prince's head, her gaze locking onto the man she had once loved, a flicker of that old affection still flickering deep within her heart, perhaps buried but never entirely extinguished.

It had been awhile since she uttered the name "Sir Criston." Their conversations had ceased following that fateful event, yet she felt no hatred towards him. Still, the thought of his son hung in the air, as if his presence materialized whenever the question arose. As she stepped out of her room, she knew he would follow her, fulfilling his duty, always a step behind her as she forged ahead. It was a subtle reflection of their roles. But in that moment, before they walked as equals, there were no titles, just the two of them—him and her.

The corridor stretched endlessly before them, increasing the awkwardness of the moment. Silence enveloped them, as if the air itself held its breath, wary of shattering the fragile stillness. It was a lesson etched in their memories, a reminder of the past. Yet, the act of breaking the silence could be refreshing, though it depended on the individual’s willingness to face the potential sting of honesty. "How are you, Sir Criston?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The absence of a reply echoed back to her, a response she had anticipated. Silence reigned once more.

She is aware of who her first love truly is—her uncle, she thinks. This is an undeniable truth, one that no one can contest. However, there’s a crucial detail that has been overlooked. Her uncle, the black sheep of the family, is a figure of admiration, captivating everyone with his charm and charisma. Yet, deep down, he harbors ambitions for the throne, a fact she is painfully aware of, even as her feelings for him linger.

Then came a day, a challenger appeared, someone who instantly captivated her attention, leaving her too spellbound to inquire about his identity. As the knight removed his helmet, revealing a strikingly handsome Dornish visage, her heart raced. Was it love she felt, or merely infatuation? Was it admiration or a sense of intrigue? The truth eludes her, for she is still too young to grasp the complexities of love.

She made her choice that day, and it meant everything. The memory of pleading with her father to be her savior still made her cringe. Those days were precious, each moment they shared a gem she would forever cherish. Yes, she fell deeply for him; he was her first real love. Yet, everything fell apart when she turned down the chance to escape with him. She longed for him to remain by her side, but the thought of him becoming a mere plaything was unbearable. And that’s how they ended up where they are now.

Upon arriving at the king's chambers, they found themselves once more at the door. As she entered, the door creaked shut behind her, lingering in its closure as if granting them a final moment to gaze into each other's eyes, to etch every detail into their memories, savoring the moment as if it were their last. Each face bore the weight of unspoken words, yearning to convey everything, yet their lips remained sealed. The door's slow descent felt like an irrevocable farewell, a silent proclamation that nothing would ever return to what it once was.

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Author's Note: Sorry for the late uploads. When I wrote this story, I was inspired by the song TRAITOR by Olivia Rodrigo. It was meant to reflect the connection between Rheanyra and Criston, but it turned out differently. Here is a new story about Rheanyra and Criston.

" I am carrying his child"

Rheanyra thought, gently touching her swelling belly. The child of him and her, the result of their passion during that fateful night in her bed. A memory that now seemed distant.

She whispered those words when she spotted him, Sir Criston Cole, with the Queen. "How everything has changed," she mused with a solemn expression.

She hadn't meant to cause him pain, but she had failed to find the right words to explain. After their wedding, she sought him out, never expecting that rejecting his proposal would lead to this. She refused to blame him though. Despite her efforts to talk to him afterwards, he seemed out of reach, avoiding her gaze with a hint of hatred.

Her heart ached as she recalled his vows, knowing too well of their doing which cause everything to fall apart. She had deceived and manipulated him. Feeling betrayed, she realized they had both deceived each other, but the child was the only thing left from their shattered promises. Broken and betrayed...

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NOTE OF THE AUTHOR

I haven't watched House of the Dragons yet, but I was captivated by the characters and their undeniable chemistry. They truly fascinated me, leading me to read into the history of Rhaenyra and Criston Cole through Google searches and watching short clips on TikTok and YouTube. It's my first time attempting to write a fanfic, and I'm still undecided on the title for this oneshot. I hope you enjoy it!

ONESHOT

Heat, that was the sole sensation Rhaenyra experienced at present. The scorching blaze that consumed her being, as she succumbed to anger that mirrored the flames. How did it come to this? Where did it all begin? Perhaps she pondered these questions before, but now she stands here defenseless. Her sons, yearning and desiring to safeguard what remained, she could not shield - not even for the throne. Ah, the throne, she mused as her body burned, she had time to contemplate. If only she were granted another life, she would not pursue it, would not even dare. As she closed her eyes, light was the only things she saw.

Unbeknownst to her, the gods do hear. Why now? Is it a blessing or could it potentially be a curse? That depends on the individual's perspective. What caused the gods to grant her another chance? She will find out perhaps sooner or later.

***

"What is this?" Rhaenyra wondered, as she hears breathing, sensed heartbeats intertwining with hers, and felt the touch of hands. As she opened her eyes, she witnessed the figure in front of her, their lips slowly parting - Ser Criston Cole. Is this the consequence of her past mistakes? Is this a dream, a reminiscence of the past? or is this reality? A kiss, a game of pursuit, a playful act she recalled, when she was young and perhaps naive. What was she doing here? She wondered.

Eyes brimming with desire, she can tell, yet she possesses the wisdom to resist, for it was this very temptation that led to their downfall.

"Ser Criston," she uttered, gently pushing him. She must maintain her composure, despite her confusion about the situation. She needs to unravel the mystery, but at the same time, she must avoid repeating the same mistakes. Perhaps the gods listened to her, but for what reason?

"Yes, my princess," he responded in a husky tone, his longing evident as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. It was her own doing, as she spoke words she believed to be encouraging. She would later regret it.

As she extended her hands to caress his face, she softly uttered, "We cannot continue."

Rhaenyra continued, extending her hand towards him, "I understand my previous words, but I genuinely wish to prevent any future regrets."

“I allowed my desires to overpower me, neglecting to protect my rational thoughts. I offer my sincere apologies, Ser Criston."

“I am hesitant to break your oath, as this” she hesitated, barely audible “is the only thing you have." She remembered about the moment when he proposed to her on the ship. She doesn't wish to cause him pain, as they both have endured enough.

"You are an exceptional knight, the very reason I selected you, but it would be too much to request this." She reached forward, height differences are evident but nevertheless, it did not stop her from reaching and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. Ser Criston gazed at her with unwavering focus.

Rhaenyra gestured towards the exit as they parted ways, saying, "You can return to your duties, Ser Criston. A kiss was all that I had to offer as a gift of your service."

Ser Criston stood there, unable to grasp the situation unfolding before him. He couldn't utter a single word as he stepped out of the boundaries of the princess's chamber. Unconsciously, his hand brushed against his lips.

As the door closed, a sense of relief washed over Rhaenyra's mind.

Possibly this time she can rewrite the past, her life, and it's a chance she shouldn't miss. Yet, little did she know, behind the door, emotions are brewing.