#Alicent hightower | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raven-dor · 2 days ago

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i wanna be yours

in which gwayne hightower is entranced by his sister’s best friend

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x fem!reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, obliviousness, denial, delusion, slight angst, FLUFF ENDING

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AN: sorry for how long this is!!

“Come along, Y/N!” Rhaenyra yelled. “The flowers will still be there when we return.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” She sighed, hooking her arm through the princesses. “They only bloom once a year. I am simply taking in their beauty before they wilt.”

“I understand. Unfortunately for you, I now need a chaperone to walk my own halls, as every lord in the land vies for my hand.”

“Oh, poor poor Rhaenyra.” Y/N teased. “I can only imagine.”

“Rhaenyra, Y/N!” The girls turned around, Alicent running toward them with a young man in tow.

Y/N leaned over, whispering in Rhaenyra’s ear. “It seems even your own friends are playing matchmaker.”

Rhaenyra laughed, coughing to cover it up. Alicent looked suspiciously at Y/N. “What have you done?”

“Nothing, Alicent, nothing at all.”

“Oh, never mind.” She pulled the man forward. “May I introduce my brother, Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown. He’s just arrived for the tourney.”

Alicent’s brother was handsome: tall, with auburn hair and deep blue eyes. One could tell from a single glance he and Alicent were related. Freckles adorned his face, and Y/N could only assume it was from his ample time outdoors. She curtsied quickly, staring at the ground.

Rhaenyra smiled politely. “Ser Hightower.”

Gwayne bowed, kissing Rhaenyra’s hand. “Princess.”

Protocol regarding courting was odd and often confusing. With different social statuses came different rules. The Princess was the highest ranking of the two girls before him; thus, he would kiss Rhaenyra’s hand last. It was an honest mistake, a lapse in judgment, Y/N was sure. Odd, she’d thought to herself, she assumed that Gwayne was taught these sorts of things.

Her eyes drifted back to his, holding back a gasp as he extended his hand to her, after Rhaenyra. She placed hers in his palm hesitantly. He bowed once more, his hold gentle, like he was scared to break her. His lips were soft, and her cheeks turned bright red from the touch, eyes wide with shock.

She realized, amid her thinking, that Alicent and Rhaenyra had been taunting her, much too entertained by this simple encounter. Y/N ripped her hand away; any passerby would have thought it was on fire.

“My lady.”

She’d almost frowned. “I am no lady, Ser.” Entertaining the thought of him would only come back to haunt her, she told herself. The entire point of the tourney was to field potential suitors for the Princess, none were here for the ward of the crown, an orphaned bastard in her own right. He was attractive, there was no denying it. The way his eyes twinkled, or the way his hair fell over his eyes, or when his smile-

“Oh?” The young man frowned, his voice snapping her back to life. Her cheeks were still flushed. This avoiding business would prove to be harder than she previously thought. “My mistake. You are the very picture of a lady, I must say.”

Their spectators gasped. Y/N scoffed. “Do not think you can mock me, Ser.” She tightened her hold on Rhaenyra’s arm. “If you will excuse us…”

Not bothering to wait for a response, she turned around, dragging the princess along with her. Rhaenyra whispered, nudging her friend. “I believe he was smitten.”

Y/N shook her head. “And I believe it was all a game, most likely a way to make you jealous.” Her heart clenched at the thought. “Just a game.”

Rhaenyra’s room was a disaster, but when had it not been?

For as long as either of the Princess’s companions could remember, her suite had been covered with gowns and riding suits thrown haphazardly on the floor.

Not that either of the other girls cared, they were happy to lay on the Princess’s plush cushions, taking in the sun as it filled the room. Y/N’s head hung off the sofa, laughing as her friend ran through her closet. “If it were any larger, you would get lost inside.”

Rhaenyra stuck her tongue out. “I would be content with just my riding suit, thank you very much.”

Alicent laughed. “You know you’d rather die than look simple. You live for fine silks and designs-”

Y/N nodded, doing her best to imitate the Princess. “Oh Y/N fetch the purple dress, will you? Fetch the red dress! No, not that one. The one with the jewels. No not that one, the other-” A pillow slammed against her face, and she giggled, holding her hands up defensively. “Mercy, I beg of you!”

“You could have had all this.” Rhaenyra sat beside the girl, whispering. “If my father simply acknowledged-”

“That my mother gave birth to me out of wedlock? No amount of Targaryen blood can excuse that dishonor.” Y/N sat up, frowning. “It does no good to dwell, Rhaenyra. Besides, I am content with the life I lead, spending time with my favorite cousin.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. “I am your only cousin.”

“Not true.” She laughed. “There is Daemon and-”

“My brother seems rather taken with you, I must say.” Y/N’s heart broke at the thought of Gwayne being smitten with Rhaenyra.

Why, she could not quite place. “Hear that ‘Nyra? I told you I was-”

“I was talking to you, Y/N,” Alicent smirked.

Her cheeks grew hot, her hands itching to cover her face. “You must be mistaken.”

“Do you truly think so little of him?” The auburn-haired girl reached out, grabbing Y/N’s hand comfortingly. “I assure you, he is honorable and loyal to a fault.”

“I am sure he is.” Y/N smiled. “He must be leaving soon, now that the tournament is nearly over.”

Rhaenyra smirked. “I must say, it was not as extensive as I would have liked.”

“Really?” Y/N laughed. “It has already been a fortnight since its beginning.”

“And if the Princess feels it is not finished…” Rhaenyra wiggled her eyebrows. “The Princess will announce an extension.”

Alicent giggled. “Or rather your father.”

“My lady.”

She’d almost escaped. Y/N sighed, turning around. “My lord.”

She had seen the man following her for quite a while, hoping that he was merely visiting the library. She bowed quickly. “How may I be of service?” Lord Frey’s scent could make a man grown faint. She felt the bile rise as he took a step closer, whispering.

“I was wondering if you could put in a word with your Princess.”

She nodded. “What would you like me to relay?”

“Well-” His ‘kind’ facade was cracking. If he could barely handle a simple question, she doubted Rhaenyra would enjoy him. “If you could-”

“My lady.” Her heart fluttered at the sight of Gwyane Hightower, his hair bouncing as he walked toward her. “I’ve been waiting. We agreed to meet in the gardens.”

“I am sorry.” She smiled, genuinely smiled. “I was simply talking to Lord Frey.” She looked back to the older man, urging him to continue. “You were saying, my lord?”

He gritted his teeth. “It is of no consequence. I shall take my leave.” He bowed. “My lady. Ser Hightower.”

“Lord Frey,” Gwayne replied, waiting until he had rounded the corner. “Always a pleasure.”

Y/N fought the urge to laugh. She walked past the young knight, her heart beating faster as he diligently followed after her. “Do you not have somewhere to be, my lord?”

“As I said, I have been waiting for you.”

She scoffed. “I must say, you are the very picture of a knight. Saving a damsel in distress? How chivalrous.”

He smiled, bowing sarcastically. “Thank you, my lady.”

“I am not a-”

“A lady. You have said.” He grabbed a book from the shelf, pretending to read it before throwing it over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, walking around him to pick up the book he’d discarded. The maester would have her head if he found it lying there. “I must say, a lady has never been so-” He laughed as she opened her mouth to correct him. “So unmoved by my advances.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint. If you’ll excuse me-”

“What are you doing with the remainder of your day, I wonder.”

“Why?”

“I would like a proper tour of the castle, and my sister has been too busy as of late.” He looked too eager, too eager to spend time with a mere lady in waiting. “Would you care to show me?”

“I would not.”

“Wonderful. I will-” He stopped. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, I would not.” She put the last book away, climbing up the ladder. “It is quite cruel, this game you are playing.”

“I am sorry?” He tilted his head.

“I know this is a ploy to gain Rhaenyra’s favor, to win the tourney, and possibly win your father’s approval.” She scoffed, eyes watery at the thought of yet another man using her to gain advantage. “This is by far the cruelest way, I must tell you.”

He laughed, actually laughed at her, which only angered her further, tears falling as a result. He stopped his laughing, reaching out to comfort her, frowning when she stepped back. “Do you really think I am using you for your lady’s hand?”

“I do.” She climbed back down from the ladder, ignoring the way he held it from wavering beneath her. “There is no reason for you to be interested in me.”

He shook his head as if he’d misheard her. “Are you aware you are beautiful?”

Y/N ignored that comment, facing him with pleading eyes. “Please spare me from your taunts. I understand that you may- you may find it amusing-”

Gwayne was confused, extremely, and utterly confused. He had just complimented her, why was she asking him to spare her? “I must make this clear and simple, as you seem to get the wrong impression from me. I am not interested in your lady. I am interested in-”

“Every suitor I have encountered has gone through either myself or Alicent to gain Rhaenyra’s favor. By the gods-” She flailed her arms. “Some even go to me inquiring about your sister!”

He practically growled, her heart leaping from the sound. “Then they are cowards.”

“Yes, well…” She had to leave before her resolve broke. “My lord.”

“Do you let anyone other than yourself speak?”

Y/N gasped, whipping around. “Excuse me?”

“I have been trying to explain myself to you, to tell you that-” He stopped himself. “So far every attempt has been overpowered by you.” He crossed his arms, a smirk gracing his lips. “Now…” His voice was practically a whisper. “May I speak?”

“I-” She swallowed, nodding. She did not trust her voice when he looked at her so… so longingly?

“The outing I suggested earlier, would simply be a tour, nothing more.” He took her hand in his. “Nothing untoward will come of it, I swear to you.”

He looked sincere. So sincere that she began to consider it. “We will need a chaperone. The king would not allow me to go off alone, even with a knight.”

“The king?” Gwayne was intrigued. “Exactly why would the king care?”

“Because I am a ward of the crown. I have been since I was born. My mother was a-” She stopped herself. “She was a close friend of King Jaehaerys, and he took me in. King Viserys has been gracious enough to let me stay.”

“Well, then I shall have to thank him.”

“For?”

“If it had not been for him…” He reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We would have never met.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling herself out of his hold. “I shall see you tomorrow, my lord.”

He grinned, calling after her. “I look forward to it!”

Gwayne smiled as he watched the woman in front of him. She was glowing in this light and practically skipping through the gardens with joy. It was funny, seeing a woman he had often seen as melancholy at best so energetic. “Do you often find yourself at peace here?”

“I do.” Y/N nodded. “I was told my mother loved the gardens, I suppose I feel she is still with me when I am here.”

“Did you know her?” Gwayne inquired. “Your mother, that is.”

“She died when I was a babe.” She leaned forward, taking in the scent of the roses in front of her. “I have glimpses of her. She had bright eyes, bright hair. Her laugh was the most beautiful melody you could ever hear. At least…” She drifted off, staring at the ground. “From what I can remember.”

“I have the same.” His voice was quiet. “Although, my mother died when I was eight years of age.”

“That’s awful.” She frowned. “Alicent told me she had died, but not how old you’d been. That must have been worse, I suppose. Having known her, and then in a moment, gone.”

He shrugged. “My mother was… less than maternal. She had always been one for court and fashion rather than her children.”

“Ah.”

“Still, it hurt. Me more than Alicent, I suppose. She’d only been four years old.”

She ached to reach out and hold him. “I am sorry.”

“For?”

“Reliving the past.”

“If I remember correctly…” He plucked a nearby daisy, placing it behind her ear ever so delicately. “I found this topic of conversation.”

“Yes well…” She smiled, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. “Still…”

He leaned forward, his breath hitting her nose. “I am sure your mother would be proud.”

To that, Y/N laughed. “She was always the adventurous sort, at least, that is what I’ve gathered from the stories. She was highly admired too, beautiful…” She looked down, picking at the skin around her thumb. “I hope to be half the woman she was.”

“You are.” He whispered, holding her hand. He had noticed, much to his dismay, that she’d adopted the habit of picking at her skin. It hurt him, to see her do that to herself.

His sister did the same.

Her heart stopped, looking up to meet his gaze. He was beautiful. Staring into his eyes, she began to realize how inappropriate of a position they were in.

Where was their chaperone? She took a step back, forgetting the rose bush behind her. Yelping, she jumped forward, falling into his arms.

Gwayne laughed, throwing his head back. “Have I startled you?”

She scoffed, pushing him away. “Not at all. I simply remembered we have much more of the tour to get through.” She darted around him, leading the way out of the garden. “Now, come along.”

“Yes sir,” Gwayne muttered, mockingly saluting.

She looked behind her, a smile gracing her lips. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” His pace quickened until they were side by side. “Simply admiring your hospitality.”

She shoved his arm, rolling her eyes. “Ever the jester.”

The remainder of their day passed quickly, much quicker than Y/N would have liked. By the end, she came to realize that the noble knight was a near-perfect companion. Serious when required, a jester when the moment called for it, he was kind, and a good man.

Their last moments had been silent, soaking in the dull roar around them. Every so often, their hands grazed, neither daring to reach out. The sunset with the perfect blend of orange and pink, the waves crashing against King Landing’s rocky cliffs. It made Y/N smile, the way it brought out the red in Gwayne’s hair. She whispered, the words barely leaving her. “You’re hair is the most perfect shade. Have you noticed?” His cheeks turned red, and she smirked, taking his silence as a no. “If only it were transferable.”

That had made him laugh. “Have you just given me a compliment?”

She laughed. “We are friends, are we not?” The night was coming to an end, her door just a few paces away. “Friends compliment each other.”

His shoulders visibly deflated, but he smiled nonetheless. “Yes. Friends compliment each other.” Silence fell over them again, neither daring to speak until she’d reached for her door. His hand grabbed her wrist, holding her just so.

His voice was raspy, quiet enough the breeze itself could have carried it away. “You are perfection itself.” Her cheeks were bright red, and she grew grateful he could not see her, knowing that she would surely become the subject of his jests if he saw her blush. “As your friend…”

She nodded, smiling to herself as she pushed the door open, his hold releasing her wrist. “Goodnight, my lord.”

“My friends do not call me my lord.”

She turned around, curtsying ever so lightly. “Then goodnight, Gwayne.”

He bowed, kissing the back of her hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Are you not terribly tired of reading?”

“If I was tired of it, I would not still be doing it, now would I?”

Gwayne groaned, rolling over on their shared blanket, staring at the sky. “One should not confine themselves to a book when the whole world is sitting in front of them.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, setting the book down in her lap. “I will have you know I am not confining myself.”

“Oh?” He laughed, his eyes closing. “Then what exactly are you doing?” “I was trying to relax.” She murmured. “Something I can never seem to do when you are present.”

“What was that?” His smirk was growing increasingly mischievous, and she knew that he had heard her.

“I will not repeat myself. You heard me.” Grabbing her book out of her lap, she opened its pages once more. “Now hush. This is the best part.”

“Read it to me then.” He closed his eyes, laying beside her. “I would like to hear what is so interesting it has taken you away from me.”

“It was you who suggested the picnic, Gwayne, not I.” She laughed. “They are supposed to be tranquil.”

“Maybe in King’s Landing.” He muttered. “In Oldtown, they are supposed to be fun.”

“Well, I am not from Oldtown, nor are we there, which could imply why I was unaware of your customs. Which could also explain how we have reached this argument.”

His eyebrows raised. “Is this an argument?”

She ignored him, mumbling to herself. “This is fun.”

“Well, it would be.” He teased. “If you read to me.”

“You jest.” She mumbled. “Now let me sit in peace.”

He stood up, walking behind her just to sit down once more. “May I?”

“May you what, exactly?” Her cheeks felt hot, he had this effect on her.

“Alicent once taught me to plait hair, when she was young.” He smiled to himself. “I assume it was a self-serving act, but still.” He leaned forward, his voice causing goosebumps to run up her spine. “At least let me pass the time this way.”

“Fine.” Y/N could never say no to him, no matter how hard she tried. “Do not make me look hideous.”

“That…” He pulled out the pins that held her hair elegantly. “Is not possible.” Her cheeks flushed, ignoring that compliment. “Are you attending the tourney tomorrow?”

Y/N nodded. “I must. Rhaenyra has insisted I attend as her lady-in-waiting.” She laughed. “It is quite odd.”

“How so?”

“She has never required that of me before.”

Gwayne grinned. “Well, I shall enjoy knowing you are watching.”

“Really?” She laughed again. “I thought you would enjoy it more if I had not attended. Then you could recount the story as outlandishly as you pleased.”

“Y/N…” His voice sounded desperate, and her heart skipped. “If you do not wish to attend, I’m sure the Princess will understand.”

“No!” She practically yelped. “I want to.”

He smiled, his blush growing darker. “Then I shall do my very best.” His fingers grazed her neck, a gasp leaving her lips before she could silence herself. Gwayne made no comment of it, simply finishing the braid and standing up, extending his hand.

She glared playfully, standing up of her own accord. She knelt, picking up the blanket and folding it haphazardly.

“Let me.” Gwayne took the blanket and basket from her arms, carrying them back up to the castle. “A lady should never carry such things.”

“A basket and blanket?” She raised an eyebrow. “I am not weak.”

“I know.” He smiled, enjoying the fire in her eyes. “You are decidedly, not weak.”

She nodded, puffing her chest. “If we walk any slower, you shall be late.”

He groaned. “Why must I attend this soiree?”

“Because it is meant for you. For knights participating in the tourney, that is. Rhaenyra will be there, as will her father-”

“And will you?” Gwayne interrupted. “Be in attendance?”

“I shall.” She smiled brightly. “Now come along and follow after me closely.”

He tilted his head. “Where are you taking me, exactly?”

“Maegor’s tunnels.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “They were made as an escape plan. Now the servants use them to move around the castle unseen.” The corridor was dark, the lanterns doing little to illuminate the path.

Gwayne felt a chill run down his spine, and he reached out, grabbing her hand. “Are you quite sure this is safe?”

“I have used them my whole life.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Trust me.”

He smiled, all fears of imminent doom leaving him as her skin touched his. “Lead the way.”

“You are going to break my hand.” Rhaenyra hissed.

Y/N smiled guiltily, releasing the Princess's hand. “My apologies, Princess.” She straightened the fabric of her dress, sitting tall. “I am simply excited. I love tourneys.”

“You do not. You have not been to a tourney since we were ten years of age.”

“Untrue,” Y/N muttered, looking over the edge of the box for her knight. “I am simply busy.”

“With what?” Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. “Who are you looking for anyhow?”

Alicent sat on the other side of the Princess, leaning forward and wiggling her eyebrows. “I believe she is looking for my brother.”

Rhaenyra grinned. “Has that-” Alicent elbowed the Princess, widening her eyes.

Y/N tilted her head. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Rhaenyra muttered, holding her side. “Nothing.”

A knight approached the royal box, and Y/N grinned, waiting for Rhaenyra to stand first, as was customary. Rhaenyra smirked, looking at Alicent quickly before approaching the ledge. “Ser Hightower.” Alicent and Y/N approached second, arm in arm. Curstying quickly, she smiled at Gwayne brightly. The knight nodded his head. “Your Highness.” He turned to Y/N, his eyes softening. “My lady.”

“Ser Hightower.” Y/N greeted. “This is quite the tourney. I’m impressed.”

He grinned. “May I-” He swallowed. “May I have the honor of wearing your favor?”

Her cheeks grew bright red. “You-” She looked at Rhaenyra. “Do you not-”

He laughed. “I believe it is quite obvious I do not.”

Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. She leaned over, whispering in her cousin’s ear. “This is when you give the man your favor, Y/N.”

“But, I-” She turned back to Gwayne once more. “Are you quite sure?”

He nodded, cheeks slightly flushed. “Yes, my lady.”

She turned around, pulling her arm out of Alicent’s. As she was a bastard, her house colors were unknown, opting to simply decorate the ring with her favorite flowers.

Of course, Rhaneyra and Y/N had known, but to blatantly defy the order of the king… she locked eyes with King Viserys, who was gazing at her curiously. Her eyes darted to the floor, turning back around. “May your luck bring you to victory, Ser Hightower.”

“As long as I have you to think of…” He looked positively giddy. “I shall never lose.”

Y/N was sure her cheeks were bright red. She rolled her eyes, ignoring his compliment.

Her heart twisted, knowing that they could never marry, as who would allow their firstborn son, their heir, to wed a bastard? She pushed his lance playfully, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “Go on, then.”

“You look stunning.” Alicent smiled, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “The very picture of a lady.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “I cannot name a time I have dressed so…” She smiled. “So elegantly.”

“It is a ball,” Rhaenyra interjected. “I will not have my dear friend in something drab.”

Alicent glared, and Rhaenyra stuck her tongue out. “She knows I do not mean that she is drab. I was simply-”

“It is alright, Rhaenyra.” Y/N laughed. “I was not offended in the slightest.”

“Red is most definitely your color.” Alicent grinned, spinning her friend around.

Rhaenyra smirked. “Your knight shall not know what to do with himself.” Alicent gasped, smacking Rhaenyra’s arm. The Princess winced, glaring at her friend. “You cannot keep hitting me whenever you are disappointed.”

Y/N tilted her head. “My knight?”

“It is no matter.” Alicent stopped the Princess from blabbing anymore. “Shall we?”

The ballroom was filled to the brim with nobility from all over the Seven Kingdoms, the Hightowers, the Tullys, even the Starks had come to participate in the tourney and celebrate its results.

Y/N stepped back, watching as her friends entered. The squire stomped his cane, effectively silencing the ballroom. “The Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Seven Kingdoms, accompanied by the Lady Alicent Hightower.”

They looked elegant, lighting up the room as they walked. Y/N walked up to the squire, smiling lightly. “No need to introduce me, Orvyn.”

He nodded, smiling kindly. “As you wish, my lady.”

The ballroom had not paid attention as she walked, not that she minded. It was better that way, she convinced herself as she glanced around the room. She smiled, waving at Gwayne, who was already staring back at her, rather intensely. His eyes… she shivered, ripping herself away from his gaze as she curtsied before the King. “Your Majesty.”

Viserys smiled, eyeing her royal red dress with curiosity. “Y/N.”

She rose; she could still feel Gwayne’s eyes fixed on her. Sitting beside Rhaenyra, she took a large gulp of her wine. “Is Gwayne still-”

Rhaenyra nodded, laughing to herself. “He is walking over.”

“What?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. “Why?”

“I assume…” She whispered, Gwayne now mere inches away. “He is going to ask you to dance.”

“He-”

“Your Highness.” The knight bowed. “My lady.”

Y/N avoided eye contact and took another large sip. Rhaenyra smirked. “Ser Gwayne, congratulations on your victory.”

“Thank you, Princess.” He smiled. “Would you mind terribly if I stole your lady for a dance?”

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Not at all, my lord.” She looked at Y/N, enjoying this situation too much. “Y/N?”

“What?” Y/N whispered.

“He is asking you to dance.” Rhaenyra hissed. “Now get up.”

“I-” Y/N looked at Gwayne for the second time that night, feeling as if she could faint at any moment. “I would be delighted.”

His hand waited for hers, as it had so many times before. He whispered, placing his arm around her waist as they stood on the dance floor, his touch shocking her to her very core. “Is something the matter?”

She shook her head.

“Then why, pray tell…” His voice sounded desperate. “Have you refused to meet my eyes? I have missed your company.”

She raised her gaze, falling for the trap he’d set. “I saw you but two days ago, Gwayne.”

“There you are.” He grinned, pulling her closer as the dance began. “Now tell me, what is the matter?”

“You are leaving soon.”

“I am.” He replied as if this were any normal conversation. And perhaps it was, but Y/N would not say so. No normal conversation made her heart beat as fast as this.

“And I-” She sighed. “I did not want to bother you while you prepared for your journey back.”

“Back?” He tilted his head. “And where am I journeying to?”

“To Oldtown, of course.” His eyebrows scrunched, and Y/N fought the urge to burst into laughter. “I assumed-”

“Well, there’s no good in that, is there?” He whispered. “Assuming is a dangerous business.”

“But why would you stay?” She felt entirely confused. He had won the tourney and now would go home to tend to his duties. “There is no-” His eyes sparkled as she spoke, halting her momentarily. “No reason.”

Gwayne leaned down, his breath hitting her cheeks. “There is one reason. A very compelling one, in truth.”

Her heart stopped. “Is there?”

He nodded, eyes fluttering down to her lips.

Oh.

She was the reason.

Before she could fall for his spell, she pulled back, disrupting the dance. His eyes widened, reaching out to hold her hand. “Y/N?”

She ripped her hand back, staring wide-eyed. “I am not feeling well.”

His tone was gentle, it made her stomach flip. Gods, he had to stop being so- so perfect. “Would you like me to-”

“No!” She yelped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Nobles from around the room curiously gazed at the couple. “No, I shall go alone.”

“Y/N-”

She whipped around, stalking out of the ballroom. It broke her, to walk away from his hold. She knew she could no longer be around him; she was fighting her very soul to leap up and attach her lips to his.

There was only one solution to this problem, this vexing complication - she would have to avoid him entirely. No more traipsing around the halls waiting for him to see her, no more walking by the stables or the training yard.

No, she would have to stay confined to her and Rhaenyra’s rooms.

That was the best course of action, for both her and Gwayne.

Little did she know, Gwayne would not stand for it.

“They say-” Rhaenyra spoke carefully as she addressed her cousin. “That your knight is leaving today.”

“Ah.” Y/N nodded, staring off into the distance.

“Y/N…” The Princess sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Punishing yourself because of your birth… You must stop refusing any sign of affection or love simply on the-”

“Who said it was love?” Y/N scoffed, walking out to the balcony. “Certainly not I.”

“Anyone with eyes can see it. He is mad for you, as you are for him.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath. “Even if you refuse to admit it.”

“I cannot admit something false, Rhaenyra.” Her lips curled into a twisted sort of smile. “I am content with my life, serving you.”

“All perfectly fine with me,” Rhaenyra reassured. “But you have a chance with Gwayne. Swear to me you will not waste it.”

“I-” She sighed. “I must retrieve your dinner, my lady.” Y/N curtsied before racing out of the room. By the gods, she couldn’t breathe when Rhaenyra lectured her. It was horrible enough that Alicent had begun to look upon her as if she was a kicked puppy, now Rhaenyra had began to do the same.

She pushed open the servant's door, twisting through Maegor’s tunnels with ease. It was odd, she told herself, at the lack of maids in its halls. Normally, she was dodging servants left and right. This felt strange, unnerving in a way.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and her heart lept when a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her into a dark corner. She gasped, flailing her arms around, anything to beat this intruder off her. Gwayne’s familiar voice ripped her from her panicked cries. “It’s me! It’s me.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “What possessed you to drag me-”

“You will not talk to me.” He crossed his arms, staring at her intensely. “I am sorry if I scared you.” She turned around, walking back to the hallway. Gwayne followed diligently. “My party is set to leave today.”

Y/N nodded, ignoring the way her heart clenched. “So I’ve heard.”

“I wanted to say goodbye before I left.” His voice wavered. “I will miss-”

“You’ve said goodbye.” She cut him off, whipping around. “Now you may leave.”

He closed the space between them, eyes running wild with confusion. “Why must you be like this? Have I truly upset you?”

“Will you not respect a lady’s wishes?” She took a step back, scoffing. “I thought you were a knight, Lord Hightower.”

“Don’t.”

“I must attend to my lady. Her dinner is past due.” She continued her walk through the tunnels, ignoring his overwhelming presence.

“Damn her dinner.” He hissed, walking a pace behind her as he whispered. “I have been trying, for weeks, to court you, and you’ve denied me every step of the way. Just as soon as I-”

She scoffed. “Court me? Did Lord Tyland put you up to this?”

He shook his head, laughing. “Is it so hard to believe that I am interested in you? That the very thought of you consumes me?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why?”

She could only imagine his expression, his beautiful face creased with shock. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. “I am a bastard, you a lord’s son. By the gods, your father is hand to the King, and I am merely a lady in waiting.” She frowned, eyes watering. “It is not proper-”

“Then damn propriety!” He yelled, grabbing her wrist and halting her in her tracks. Her back was pressed against his chest. “I- I am mad for you, you must see that.”

Her shoulders shook, tears falling down her face. “Gwayne, it is for the best.”

“No!” He twirled her around, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “You- you make me think, and feel, and act as none have. Your laughter- it brightens my day. Your wit makes me proud. I am-” He sighed, smiling brightly at the mere sight of her. “How?”

She tilted her head. “How?”

“How can I show you?” Her back collided with the wall, her breath leaving her, her heart thumping at their proximity. “How can I make you believe?”

“Gwayne…”

“Damn it to hell…” He leaned down, colliding his lips to hers. She gasped, eyes fluttering shut as she instantly pulled him closer. “I am not deterred by your status, nor do I care. I will have you, regardless of what the court thinks is proper.” His forehead leaned against hers, his hand resting at the bottom of her neck.

“We cannot-” Tears continued to fall down her face. “Gwayne it cannot happen-”

“Do you want it to?” He remained steadfast. “Is this what you truly feel, or merely what the lords and ladies of Kings Landing shall say?”

“Gwayne, your father will never approve.”

“By the gods woman…” He laughed. “Do you love me?”

“Love?” She choked on a sob. Her body felt as if it could burst into flames at any moment. He was standing close, closer than what was deemed appropriate. “Do I-”

“I do.” He whispered, nudging her nose with his, lips barely touching. “I love you.”

“Gwayne, just listen to me.” She was fighting every bone in her body not to kiss him senselessly. “I am not good enough for you. There are hundreds of ladies-”

“You are, you are good enough. Perhaps too good. Besides…” He whispered. “I want you. Only you.” His eyes were intense, his thumb caressing her collarbone. By the gods, he was trying to make her burst into flames. “Only you.” His lips collided against hers, her eyes fluttering shut once more.

Her hands found their way to his chest, slowly pushing him away. “We cannot.”

“Oh?” He looked around the hallway. “I do not see anyone.”

“You know what I meant, Gwayne Hightower.”

“Would you like to stop?”

“No!” Her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

His eyebrows rose, laughing to himself. “So eager.” He nudged his nose against hers. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

“Why have you stopped?” Gwayne’s voice was but a murmur. “I did not know you were listening.” She smiled. “You appeared to be sleeping.”

“Merely basking in your presence, my love.” His eyes fluttered open. “I must say, you look radiant in this light.”

She laughed. “As opposed to?”

“You know that I find you impossibly perfect.” His eyes shut again. “How long has it been since you began this book?”

“Hard to say. Possibly half an hour?” She squinted suspiciously. “Why?”

“No reason.” He smirked, finding comfort in her lap once more.

“Well, there must be.” Her laughter filled his heart, his soul. “You never ask for the time.”

“May I not ask the beautiful woman, whom I love, what the time is? I simply want to know how long I have been lying in the garden.” His eyes peeked open once more, her eyebrows raising in amusement. “If you must know, I have an appointment at half past three.”

“An appointment?” She shut her book, running her hand through his hair. “Whatever for?”

“It is a secret.”

“Really?” She pulled her hand away from his hair, laughing as he sat up, obviously disappointed by the sudden lack of touch.

“Really.” He stood, extending his hand. She smiled, placing hers in his gladly. “It is with the King.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling as they walked. “Has something happened?”

“Yes.”

Her heart dropped. “Is it serious?”

He nodded. “Deadly.”

She groaned. “Now you must tell me.”

He sighed, stopping by the fountain. “Fine, fine. But you must not tell.”

She nodded, interlocking their pinkies. “I swear.”

He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “I am asking the King for your hand.”

Her eyebrows crinkled. “My hand?”

“In marriage, my love.” She stood there speechless. He laughed, kissing the back of her hand gently. “I cannot be late.”

He had been halfway down the trail when she’d been brought back to life.

“Gwayne!”

He turned around, laughing at the sight before him. Y/N was racing toward him, skirts in hand and book discarded, grinning wildly. “Gwayne, you come back here this instant!”

He shook his head, running away. “This is highly unladylike, I must say!” She glared, almost tripping over a tree root, his laughter cascading through the garden. “Almost makes me rethink my question!”

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