you are my moonlight
In which gwayne hightower meets his future wife, and his timing is most unfortunate
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader
WARNINGS: fluff, young love, friends fighting, creepy viserys, horrible timing
WORD COUNT: 3.5k
AN: this could be read as a prequel to come back to me, but does NOT have to be read to understand any context!!
The tourney was in full swing, Y/N sitting eagerly on Rhaenyra’s left. The first two matches had finished rather similarly, with Sir Criston Cole being the winner. What the trio was actually waiting for was Prince Daemon’s match. It was all Rhaenyra had talked about for days and the fact that he’d gifted her a necklace of Valyrian steel, a rare and precious token that many in the realm could not afford. Of course, Rhaenyra and her family were the exception, as they were one of two of the only remaining High Valyrian houses left.
The knights of the realm lined up before the Prince, the Master of Revels, announced the man himself. “Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent.” The prince rode down the line, inspecting each knight briefly. He quickly settled on Alicent’s brother, Ser Gwayne. “For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King.”
Alicent grew restless, picking at the skin surrounding her fingers. Y/N wished she could comfort the auburn haired girl herself, but Rhaenyra grabbed her friend's hand quickly, stopping her from further injury. The two men lined up on their respective sides, racing towards each other.
Ser Gwayne released the first blow to the shock of the stands. Y/N beamed, though she did not know why. She hardly knew the knight, only hearing of him through Alicent when she recalled her childhood. The second round was quick, and at the last second, Prince Daemon lowered his joust in front of the horse's legs, causing it to topple over, taking Ser Gwayne with it. She gasped, a hand covering her mouth. She mumbled, knowing Rhaenyra would not stand for any untoward talk of her uncle. “By the seven.”
Ser Gwayne did not move, and Alicent grew more anxious by the second. Y/N reached her hand out, grasping Alicent's briefly. “He will be alright, Alicent, I know it.” The squires lifted him from the ground, walking him over to the medicine tent. He would be transported later to the sept, Y/N assumed. She would have to visit him and keep him company while he recovered.
Prince Daemon approached the Royal apartment, and Rhaenyra instantly approached her uncle. “Nicely done, Uncle.” Alicent and Y/N followed suit, still squeamish from the clearly immoral act.
“Thank you, Princess.” Daemon nodded his head. “Lady Y/N.”
“My Prince.”
He turned to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.” Alicent walked away, and Daemon smiled once more at the ward of the crown. “Next tourney, my lady, I shall ask you.”
Y/N laughed. “I look forward to that day, my Prince.”
Alicent returned swiftly, placing her favor on the Prince’s joust. “Good luck, my Prince.” The three girls sat down, waving at the crowd. The tourney had turned sour near after, with three fights breaking out, all ending in death. The knights, who had never seen battle, were bloodthirsty from what she could tell.
Y/N grew nauseous quickly, begging Rhaenyra for pardon so that she did not grow sick. Rushing out of the royal apartment, she decided to visit Ser Gwayne while she still had the nerve. The tent was quiet, with the exception of a few masters concocting ointments. Y/N peaked around the corner, coming face to face with Alicent’s brother. She curtsied, bowing her head. “My lord.” He tried to sit up, but she quickly stopped him. “Please, there is no need to further harm yourself.”
He smiled gratefully. “I must ask for your forgiveness, my lady; I do not remember meeting you.”
“I am Y/N of House Hawthorne. A ward of the crown and a friend of your sister’s.”
“A pleasure, my lady.” He tilted his head. “Has she sent you here then?”
“Alicent remains at the tourney. I-” She blushed, realizing how foolish it sounded. “I saw your joust, and I wanted to see that you were well. For Alicent’s sake.”
He nodded, a smirk growing on his lips. “For Alicent, of course. I must say, I have not heard of House Hawthorne.” She smiled, sitting beside him.
“We are located in the Westerlands, my lord, and are sworn to House Lannister.” She looked closer at his wound, wincing. “Your wound looks rather agitated still. Would you mind if I-”
He shook his head quickly. “Please. I would be most appreciative.”
She stood, sneaking a cloth and an herb she knew caused numbing. Wrapping it carefully, she dipped the cloth in water, tapping it lightly on his skin. “This should numb the pain, for now, my lord. I’ve known this herb to speed the healing process along quite nicely.”
He hummed, closing his eyes. “How did you become so well acquainted with such knowledge?”
“My mother was a trained healer, my lord.”
“Please call me Gwayne.” He peeked through his eyelids, giving her a kind smile. “You’ve all but earned it.”
“Very well, my lo- Gwayne.” She nodded. “If I can call you by your name, it is only fair that you call me by mine.”
He scoffed. “Hardly. That would be highly improper.”
She raised an eyebrow, still delicately tapping the cloth. “Opposed to what you have asked of me?”
He nodded, steadfast. “You are a lady. You should be addressed as such.”
Dipping the cloth back in the water, she laughed. “Hardly.”
“Using my own words against me.” He laughed back. “My, you are a wonder.”
“Y/N?”
She froze, turning around quickly. For some reason Y/N felt guilty, caught even. But seeing Alicent stand at the end of her brother’s bed, her face as pale as the winter snow, made the girl forget her worries. Y/N dropped the cloth in the bowl, rushing to Alicent’s side. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“The Queen. She’s-” Alicent leaned closer, whispering in her friend's ear. “She’s dead.” Y/N gasped.
“I-” Y/N turned back to Gwayne, waving quickly. “It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, my lord.” The two girls rushed off, leaving the knight thoroughly confused.
“Call me-” The girl was out of the tent before he could finish his sentence.
The funeral was a somber affair, as to be expected. Alicent and Y/N stood close by to Rhaenyra, staring at the covered bodies. Syrax, the Princess’s dragon, stood at the top of the hill, waiting for its orders. They stood in silence for the better part of an hour before Prince Daemon whispered in Rhaenyra’s ear, no doubt telling her that she would have to be the one to give the order.
A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine as her friend stepped forward, catching a sob. “D-” Rhaenyra took a deep breath, commanding her dragon. “Dracarys.”
The yellow fury let out a great blast, effectively burning her mother and brother’s corpses. Rhaenyra turned away, unable to look at her deceased loved ones. Soon after, the crowd dissipated, leaving Rhaenyra, Y/N, and Alicent still standing by the sight. Y/N stayed back as Alicent approached their grieving friend.
“My lady.”
Y/N turned, smiling lightly at the Hightower. “My lord.”
“I believe last we met, I asked you to call me by my name.” He smirked. “Or am I mistaken?”
She laughed quietly. “I believe the herb I applied made you hallucinate, my lord. You never said anything of the sort.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you would never lie to me, so I shall take your word for it.”
Y/N looked back at her friends, her heart aching.
“She is an unlucky Princess,” Gwayne muttered.
“Yes, indeed. Losing a parent is never easy.”
“I am sorry.” Y/N turned back to the young knight, confusion etched on her face. “It is just- I assumed that with you being a ward of the crown-”
“You would be correct. But it has been so long, I hardly remember what it was like to have parents.”
He frowned. “That is horrible. I lost my own mother just a year ago.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she tried to ignore the shock that rang through her body. “It is never easy.”
She shook her head, placing a hand delicately over his. “You are, unfortunately, correct.”
A cough broke the pair apart, Y/N practically jumping at the interruption. “I could use some company on Dragonback.” Rhaenyra practically whispered. “Would you join me?”
“Of course.” She turned back to Gwayne, curtsying quickly. “My lord.”
The two girls walked up the hill, arm in arm. Alicent looked curiously at her brother. “What are you doing?”
He whipped around, laughing at his sister. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I only meant to say, you’ve taken a recent fascination in Y/N.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “And your point?”
Alicent smiled, shaking her head. “Merely a statement, brother.”
The palace gardens were in full bloom this time of year, and Y/N always found comfort in the little corner with a quaint fountain and an outlook of the ocean. Rhaenyra and she frequented this spot often in their youth, and Y/N needed respite from the high tensions at court. She’d been stuck on the same page for what seemed like hours when a voice broke through her focus. “We meet again.” Gwayne bowed his head, grinning much too widely. “My lady.”
Y/N made no effort to stand, raising her eyebrows. “I am beginning to think, my lord, that you have been following me.”
“Not that I am…” He started, sitting at the end of the cushioned chair that she occupied. “But if I was, it might have something to do with the fact that you are still not calling me by my name.”
She laughed. “Is it that simple?”
He nodded. “Quite. But do not worry yourself, I’ll wait.” His eyes sparkled. “My lady.”
Y/N welcomed the challenge; she could sit there for hours, reading and ignoring the handsome knight. She glanced down at her book, ignoring his devilishly handsome smile. “You’ve read that page three times already.” She glared over the top, and he held his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Sorry.”
She looked back down, flipping the page to prove a point. He sighed, standing and walking over to the daisies that bordered the fountain. Picking the fullest one he could find, he stopped in front of the girl, holding it out. “May I?”
“I will not wilt at the sight of you because you are a lord.” She stood, closing her book. “I am not a flower like the thing you hold in your hand.”
He nodded. “You are not.” He raised the daisy, tucking it behind her ear. “You are however, as pretty as one.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she murmured. “You flatter me, my lord.”
“And why shouldn’t I? One should always flatter a beautiful woman when given the chance.” He smiled. “I believe calling me by my name shall suffice as thanks.”
She scoffed, smacking his chest lightly. “You are quite confident, Gwayne.”
“You’ll find-” He stopped, his smile brightening ten fold. “You said my name.”
Y/N nodded, walking away. “I did.”
He followed after, like a lost puppy. “What shall you do with the rest of your day, I wonder?”
She shrugged. “I do not know, but it will most certainly be out of your presence.”
He gasped, holding his chest. “You hurt my heart when you say such things.”
She laughed, stopping and pretending to check him over. “However will you survive?”
“I think it is terminal my lady.”
“And what affliction have you caught, Ser Gwayne?” Y/N forced a giggle back, trying her hardest to behave seriously.
“Lovesickness.” He sighed. “I’m afraid there is no cure.”
She stepped closer, a pink dusting her cheeks. “I shall mourn you then.”
“Well, I’m sure we could-”
“Y/N!”
Gwayne had never hated the Princess Rhaenyra more in his life than that moment. She was a generally tolerable girl, and a good friend to his sister, but in that moment she stood between him and you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell her to leave. He stepped away from you hesitantly, bowing quickly. “Princess.”
The Targaryen made no effort to hide her humor at the situation. “I apoligize for the intrusion. Alicent and I were about to go to the Sept, and I did not want you to think we left you behind.”
Y/N smiled brightly, waving disapointedly to the knight. “Feel better, my lord.”
Alicent tilted her head, yelling back at her brother. “Better? Are you quite well brother?”
Y/N yet again found herself in the gardens, but this time she was here for the soul purpose of seeing Gwayne. She wore her best dress, had her maid’s put her hair up intricately, and even applied some rouge. Not too much, she wouldn’t want people to think the wrong thing. She was a lady, as Gwayne never ceased to remind her. Sitting carefully on the cushioned chair, she positioned herself towards the entrance, waiting for the familiar mop of auburn hair to peek through. She’d begun to think he wouldn’t show when his familiar tenor broke through the tranquil silence.
“My lady, I thought I would find you here.” She lowered the book, her stomach fluttering when his eyes widened slightly. “You look-”
“Gwayne, I-” They both stopped, laughing at their ill timed words. “It seems that we cannot find a moment of peace.”
He nodded, breaking the distance between them. “I have wanted to tell you something for quite some time now. I cannot seem to summon the words to leave me.” He laughed, but his nerves were evident. “It is just…”
“Yes?” Y/N smiled, hating how nauseous she felt.
“I wanted to say that-”
A loud sob rang through the garden, pulling them out of their haze. Gwayne drew his sword, in case the sob resulted in any trouble. Y/N tried to round the corner before him, but he shook his head, leading her carefully through the hedges.
“Rhaenyra?” Y/N quickly left her place behind Gwayne, rushing to her friends side. “Are you alright?”
“She’s betrayed me. I cannot- I can’t-” The princess looked up, glaring at the knight. “Can we go some place else?”
Y/N nodded, her face visibly disappointed. She walked Rhaenyra out of the gardens, sparing Gwayne one last look, mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry.’
The castle had been throw off it’s axis by the sudden shift within it’s walls. Rhaenyra was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant Y/N was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant that the once close knit group of friends were no longer a trio.
It had been that way since they were children, almost ten years ago. Y/N not speaking to Alicent meant she could not speak to Gwayne, or so she assumed. She and Rhaenyra had not talked about it much since the day it was announced, always leaving a sour taste in the Princess’s mouth.
Y/N just wished Rhaenyra could forgive her friend for something she had no control over. The Royal Wedding was tonight, and Rhaenyra had insisted that Y/N walk in with the princess, even though she wasn’t family. When Y/N brought this up, her friend scolded her, saying that ‘My father has insisted, I’m afraid. You are his ward, and he has grown to think of you as his own.’
Now, she sat beside Rhaenyra while the ceremony took place, sneaking glances at the brides brother. Rhaenyra had picked out Y/N's dress herself, saying that she needed something worthy of a princess. She was not one to argue and let the Princess do whatever she wanted as long as she was distracted from the day at hand.
Arm in arm with the Princess, she dreaded when they finally reached the hall and had to congratulate the ‘happy’ couple. Poor Alicent, married at fifteen, was not something she wished on her worst enemy. Especially to a man twenty years your senior. The doors opened wide, the crowd quieting at the sight of the princess and her companion. Among that crowd was Gwayne, staring at her with desperate eyes.
Her cheeks turned pink, quickly breaking the contact. Chatter quickly filled the hall once more as Rhaenyra reached the top of the steps, curtsying quickly. “Congratulations, step-mother. Father.”
Y/N shivered. Rhaenyra's tone was as cold as the Wall. She wanted to curse her friend for making her go after that display. She sunk to the floor, bowing her head. “Many happy returns, My Queen, My King.”
Viserys smiled gratefully. “Thank you Y/N. You have been a loyal friend to my daughter and wife. I shall not forget it.”
The young girl nodded, equally disgusted and horrified at what the king had just said. Surely he realized how immoral it was. “Of course Your Grace. I live to serve and provide assistance to my Princess.”
She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sitting down beside Rhaenyra. “Could you at least have tried to be nice?”
“I was.” The princess raised an eyebrow, and Y/N almost laughed, realizing her friend was being serious.
“Of course. A jest, my lady.”
Rhaenyra laughed. “So formal.”
“We are at a wedding, Rhaenyra. It would be inappropriate for me to call you anything other than my lady, by the court's standards.”
“Well I am the princess, and I say you call me Rhaenyra.”
“Very well.” Y/N smiled, taking a large sip of her wine. “This will be an entertaining night.”
Besides the occasional snide comment thrown at the obviously overwhelmed bride, the night had been otherwise peaceful. Y/N tried her best to sway Rhaenyra from attacking the queen outright, and she’d been successful. So far. She’d been in the middle of listening to Rhaenyra’s adventure of gathering the stolen dragon egg from her uncle when a cough interrupted.
“Excuse me, Princess.” The pair turned around to see Gwayne staring at Y/N not Rhaenyra. Odd. He had addressed Rhaenyra, not her. “May I ask the Lady for a dance?”
Y/N widened her eyes, looking in between the two. She was sure Rhaenyra would say no or burst out in flames from having to talk to Alicent’s brother, but she simply nodded her head, going back to her meal. Gwayne extended his hand, leading her to the dancefloor. He whispered as they moved, keeping in mind the intruding ears that surrounded them. “I have missed your company, my lady.”
“I have missed yours as well.”
“I know much has happened since we last spoke, but it has not deterred me. If anything, it has made me realize that I cannot stand to be apart from you.” Her cheeks turned pink for the second time that night.
“You are very kind, Gwayne.”
“Yes, well, it is not hard when you are the one I compliment.” He shook his head. “I am returning to Old Town soon. In two weeks time, after my sister settles into her new life.”
Her heart fell, eyes watering. “I hope your journey is swift.” She gulped, mumbling. “I shall miss you in truth.”
He tilted his head, smiling. If she were not in a public place, she would admonish him for smiling at her pain. “What I mean to say is, I am infatuated with you. And I would like to seek your hand in marriage. From the king of course.”
She gasped, her eyes widening. “I beg your pardon?”
“I would like to marry you.” He spoke softly, now fully grinning. “If you would have me. You do not have to say yes, but I assure you, your affection for me will grow with time.”
“With time? Gwayne, I-” Y/N whispered so quietly she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. “I have already grown to admire you. Much more than a friend should. That is no concern of mine.”
“Ah.” The knight nodded. “Well, that settles it then.”
“Settles what?”
“We are to be married.”
“Yes, well…” She sighed. “You cannot propose to me at your sister’s wedding. It would be improper.”
“Damn impropriety.” He hissed, twirling you as the dance required. “Praytell, when would be a proper time then?”
“Any other day, my love.”
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, her face growing red. “Gwayne people are looking.”
He seemingly did not hear her. “My love.”
“If you are going to tease me-”
“You called me, my love.”
“Gwayne…” She whined, gesturing to the prying eyes. “Can we please leave the floor? People will start to wonder…”
“I desperately want to kiss you.”
Thank the Seven the dance ended then. She bowed quickly. “Thank you for the dance, my lord.” Rushing back to her seat, she stared at the table, shock running through her veins.
“Did he propose then?”
Y/N whipped her head over, glaring at her friend. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew. Y/N, I’ve known he was going to propose since I saw him approach you at my mother’s funeral.”
“Rhaenyra, I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever for?”
“I don’t want you to feel betrayed. I had no intention of-”
“Do not apoligize to me.” She placed her hand in Y/N's. “You are my friend. I am happy for you, truly. He is a good man, he will treat you well. I know it.”
“I haven’t said yes, Rhaenyra.”
“Yet.” Her friend laughed. “You haven’t said yes, yet.”
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