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just-some-random-blogger · 3 days ago

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I'm so late but 🫡🫡🫡 I always get back to my tags 😭 unless they've disappeared

He looked forward to another chance at impressing his lady with his prowess on the field, in the hope of convincing her of his suitability as a husband and protector for her.

Everyone go home. I'm afraid he's built different

He hoped that she would not think him too forward or presumptuous in this but, hearing that it was her desire to match his House colours, he had immediately sought to facilitate it.

Nah. This is the exact definition of if he wanted to, he would. Initiative.

Lowering his head so that his mouth was close to Y/N's ear, he spoke conspiratorially: "I hope, my Lady, that your grip upon my arm does not convey your alarm lest I should be slain in today's tourney. I assure you I am more stalwart than you believe me to be."

😫😫😫😫😫😫 SOMEONE PLAY WHAT A MAN BY SALT AND PEPPA

"Right you are, my Lady. I am assured, however, that your pretty wit will be able to shrink my head back down to size, should I grow too over-confident."

I WANT HIM

His mirth was sharply cut short, however, when Prince Daemon Targaryen announced his challenge to Gwayne, and was instead replaced with nerves.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM DAEMON

"I am perfectly well, my Lady. Please do not distress yourself any further. It looked much worse to you than it was. I barely felt the fall."

RAT STOP LYING

He was mindful of her aversion to touch and would not exploit her concern for him in order to feel her touch again.

🗣️IF🗣️HE🗣️ WANTED🗣️TO🗣️HE🗣️WOULD🗣️

🥺🥺🫶🫶🫶 also I think somewhere around here you accidentally repeated a few paragraphs

Adopting a teasing tone, he smirked at her. "Although, my Lady, I must also assure you that you have my full permission to touch me whenever you want." At this, Y/N broke out into laughter, playfully hitting him on the arm.

At her tentative questioning, he smiled indulgently at her, assuming a teasing tone, "well it is most certainly not for me, although I am sure I would look good in it."

💀💀💀💀💀✋✋✋✋ but he did nawt lie I'm afraid

Her father pulled out a seat beside him for her to sit and roughly pulled her down onto it. Lowering his head towards hers, he spoke through gritted teeth. "I do not ever want to see you behave in such an unbecoming manner as you behaved at today's tourney. Your concern for Ser Gwayne Hightower was entirely inappropriate and has given rise to unwelcome questions about the nature of your relationship with him. You will comport yourself in a manner becoming of a lady from now on and no longer be so open about your relationship to that family. Do you understand." She bowed her head at the hatred she heard lacing his words, responding in barely a whisper, "I understand, Ser."

🧍‍♀️ HELLO?????? HER FATHER IS OK WITH THIS????

"How dare you touch a lady without her consent," Gwayne spoke through gritted teeth, as he assumed a protective stance between his lady and Ser Tyland. Tyland responded in a nonchalant drawl, "her consent matters little to me if her father agrees to it."

"Say anything so ungallant of my Lady again, Ser, and I shall cut you from nose to navel."

NOSE TO NAVEL DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT

Delicate part. 6

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Description: Gwayne indulges his Lady's wish to dress in the colours of his House in the hopes that this will endear him to her. When he rides forth to meet Daemon's challenge in the jousting, he discovers how much his Lady cares for him. Gwayne must face another challenge at the tourney banquet, as he defends his Lady from unwanted attentions from another man.

Writer's note: Thank you so much for all your lovely comments on the last part of this story and I apologise for the delay in getting this over out. Life just got in the way but I hope you enjoy the next installment. Tags in the comment section :)

Warnings: sexual harassment, violence, female reader, touch averse and asexual reader.

When the dawn rose on the second and final day of the Heir's tournament, Gwayne was already awake. He had resolved to ready himself quickly, in order to be able to escort his sister and lady to their seats before he made his own way to participate in the jousting. He looked forward to another chance at impressing his lady with his prowess on the field, in the hope of convincing her of his suitability as a husband and protector for her. The appearance of his lady in green attire at the banquet following the tournament the day before, had bolstered his determination to win her heart to him. It was the second time he had seen her adorned in his House colours and he had meant what he said when he told her that he hoped to always see her in them. The colour green had never looked so beautiful to him, symbolizing as it did his tender hope that Y/N would one day be the Lady Hightower. He dared to hope that her wearing it intimated that she had warm feelings towards his House and himself. That she may yet open her heart to him.

Alicent's confidence that no one could resist loving her brother and her revelation that Y/N had specifically asked Alicent to help her match a new fabric to the colours of House Hightower, had lit a spark of hope within him. Acting upon this hope, he had sent another raven to Oldtown, requesting that silks in the colours of House Hightower be sent to King's Landing, at once, to be made into dresses for both his sister and his lady. He hoped that she would not think him too forward or presumptuous in this but, hearing that it was her desire to match his House colours, he had immediately sought to facilitate it. A warm surge of affection towards her bloomed in his chest at her sweetness in wanting to align herself with the House of her two best friends. Both he and Alicent already considered her to be an indispensable part of their family and he was gladdened to think that she should do so too. He knew he still needed to tread carefully, considering that she had already expressed to him her clear distaste for marriage, but he began to believe that it was not the institution itself, nor love itself, that she was opposed to. Paying careful attention to her reaction to his attempts at conveying his feelings for her in his words and gestures, he had become increasingly hopeful that she might not reject his love.

Where she had not wanted to even hold his arm when they had first met, she now reached for his arm before he could even offer it out to her, always placing her delicate hand in his when he offered it out to her. Gradually, she had transitioned from sitting opposite him under the Weirwood tree, to sitting beside him, arms brushing as they talked until the sun began to set. His heart soared at the thought that she should not only be so comfortable around him but that she should also welcome his closeness. He felt her trust in him to be a priceless honour which he would not take foregranted, since it was so rare and so precious.

Feeling how precious her trust in him was, he was anxious not to overstep her boundaries, and so had resisted his, now, daily urge to get down on one knee before her and make a proposal of marriage to her. He was sure that such a brash action would not yet be welcome and he was determined to wait until such a time as he could do so with greater confidence in her receptivity to it. This was in spite of Alicent's frequent entreaties that he should try, desperate as she was to have her best friend become her sister by marriage. He had, however, made one slip up, allowing his feelings for his lady to overcome him in the moment. Rejoining his sister and his lady after yesterday's tourney, he had spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the praises of both at his victories.

At his love's vociferous enumeration on his skill on the field, he had given into his feeling of elation, taking her hand to press a soft kiss to it. As he did so, he attempted to thank her, but stumbled on his words as he said, "I am glad to hear you are pleased with your champion's efforts. You have my sincere thanks, my lo-my lady." His eyes had widened in panic at nearly calling her his love out loud, but the next second hope brimmed forth in his heart as he noticed the faint blush on his lady's face and her intent gaze on him. It was almost as if...but it could not be, he was only imagining what he wished to see. For a moment it had seemed as if she had wanted him to say the word he had almost said in mistake, as if she were hanging upon his words. With a cough, Alicent came to her brother's aid to change the subject and the three continued to converse as usual. Something had shifted in the air, however, and it was felt by all three.

Gwayne could feel this shift as he escorted his sister and lady to their seats above the jousting yard, almost as if a veil had been lifted and his feelings for her no longer needed to be contained within him like a secret. He dared to hope that Y/N's tighter clutch on his arm that morning was a sign of her growing affection for him, though this did not stop him from teasing her.

More than able to meet his teasing with her own sharp retorts, Y/N playfully knocked her shoulder against his, her lips upturned in a mischievous smile. "I think I have cautioned you against arrogance before, Gwayne. We wouldn't want your head to grow too large and for you to overbalance with the weight of it."

Alicent laughed in assent, "I have told you as much more times than I can count, Gwayne."

Gwayne's smile grew at his lady's wit and his sister's laughter, this not being the first time she had bested him in their verbal sparring. Far from being offended by her frequent jests at his expense, he viewed it as an encouraging sign of her trust in him and her confidence around him. He adopted a look of mock contrition, nodding in assent at her rebuke.

"Right you are, my Lady. I am assured, however, that your pretty wit will be able to shrink my head back down to size, should I grow too over-confident." As she broke out into laughter, he once again felt sure that he would never grow tired of the sound. It was the sweetest sound in the world to him; yet another reason why he was only too glad to be the target of her jests, if only to elicit that sound from her again.

Leading his sister and lady to their seats on the King's balcony, overlooking the jousting, he kissed both of their hands, retaining hold of Y/N's longer than was strictly necessary, as he held her gaze intently. Reluctantly releasing his hold on her hand, he returned to the jousting yard, lowering his helm over his face.

As the day wore on and the light of the retreating afternoon sun became hazy, Gwayne had won several victories to his name, having just unhorsed the same Lannister who had distressed his sister and lady only two evenings before. He could not but think the lickspittle had it coming to him and Gwayne was only too glad to have been given the opportunity of returning his offence to his sister and lady in kind. Raising his helm, following his victory, Gwayne looked up at his sister and lady, first nodding his head in the direction of the Lannister knight's crumpled form on the ground, before smirking and winking at them. He could not repress his own chuckle as he saw them break into laughter at his antics.

His mirth was sharply cut short, however, when Prince Daemon Targaryen announced his challenge to Gwayne, and was instead replaced with nerves. Daemon was more than twice his age and experienced in real battle. Gwayne had little hope of winning against him in the joust, but he determined to try, not wishing to alarm his sister or his lady if he were to fall. Looking up at his father for the first time since the tourney began, Otto Hightower merely nodded at him and redirected his gaze away. Gwayne well knew that Daemon had no love for his father and that it was his enmity towards Otto Hightower which had, no doubt, been his reason for selecting Gwayne as an opponent. Gwayne looked to his sister, distressed to see her look so alarmed and he tried to smile at her reassuringly, before lowering his helm and leading his horse into position. Time seemed to slow as Gwayne watched Daemon line up into position, his heart thundering in his chest. Nevertheless, he raised his lance with all the confidence he could muster and charged at Daemon with a level of determination Daemon had little been expecting from a knight of but ten and seven years.

Gwayne was met with uproarious applause when his lance knocked Daemon so forcefully in the shoulder as to nearly unseat him from his horse. Breathing a brief sigh of relief, Gwayne cantered his horse to the other end of the field, preparing to charge at his opponent, once again. A feeling of dread settled in his chest, his heart still beating frantically, as he prepared to meet Daemon's horse. He raised his lance, once again, aiming for Daemon's helmet as their horses ran to meet one another, only realizing at the last moment that Daemon had lowered his lance to take Gwayne's horse's legs out from under him. There was a brief feeling of falling as Gwayne was unseated from his horse, his helmet flying from his head with the impact. He hit the ground hard, his face skidding across the hard gravel, and he struggled for breath, winded by the fall. Taking deep breaths, he rolled onto his back and waited for the world to realign in his vision, still dizzy from the impact of his fall. His vision had refocused and his hearing returned, as he began to recover his senses, when he heard the sound of a high shriek and the sound of someone crying as if in great pain. Looking up to locate the source of the sound, he was horrified to see that it was his lady, his love that was crying into his sister's shoulder, struggling for breath herself. He promptly struggled to his feet, though he stumbled a few times in his attempt to get up in such haste. This did not stop him from running up to the balcony and calling to her, ignoring the outraged expression of his father at the display.

"Y/N, my Lady, I am well. Do not distress yourself"

She quickly looked back at him, her eyes flitting across his form to assess the damage. Gaining her attention, he held her gaze as he held his gloved hand to where his heart would be under his breastplate.

"I am well, I assure you." He nodded in assurance both to Y/N, who he was relieved to see was beginning to calm, and to Alicent, who looked equally distressed.

Gwayne stumbled to stand just below where the King was seated, bowing in acknowledgement of his defeat, before briskly walking away from the yard to rejoin his sister and his lady. Whilst her distress at his fall filled him with grateful affection at her concern for him, he was too focused on remedying both her and Alicent's distress to dwell on it. Whilst he revelled in the support of his sister and beloved at the training yard, he did not wish them to see violence which would give them cause for alarm. He was grateful, therefore, that Daemon's defeat of him had not been worse and that his injuries were only superficial. He barely gave them a second thought as he hurried to assure both his sister and his lady that he was well and that they should not distress themselves any further on his account. In his haste to run to the entrance of the steps leading to the Royal balcony, barely able to see as blood from a wound to his head trickled down into his eyes, he was startled to bump into the very lady he was trying so hard to get to. He held his arms out to hold her elbows and steady her, as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, brushing her hands over them, his arms and his chest, her eyes frantically assessing him for any injuries. Lost in the feeling of her touch, even if only over his armour, he was momentarily speechless.

"How badly are you hurt, Gwayne?" she frantically asked of him, in a tremulous voice which had him wishing to pull her into his chest and hold her to him.

He squeezed her forearms comfortingly, lowering his head to meet her eyes.

"I am perfectly well, my Lady. Please do not distress yourself any further. It looked much worse to you than it was. I barely felt the fall."

She looked up at him uncertainly, seemingly not convinced by his assurances. He stopped breathing for a moment when she raised a hand to gently brush his forehead with her knuckles.

"You're bleeding Gwayne. Come, I will tend to it."

The tender concern he heard in her voice left him feeling dazed, as if he had stepped into a dream, and he found himself leaning into her touch. As she retracted her hand, he wished she would touch his face again, feeling sure it would heal him of any malady. He rallied himself, however, reminding himself that it was his responsibility to assure her. He was mindful of her aversion to touch and would not exploit her concern for him in order to feel her touch again.

"I thank you for your gentle concern, my Lady, but there is no need. I will see to it forthwith, please rejoin Alicent and do not worry yourself any further. I shall be with you as soon as I can." He was surprised when she gripped onto his elbows to prevent him from leaving her side, and he remained where he stood, waiting with bated breath for her to speak.

She met his gaze with a look of determination, her voice firm. "I will tend to them, Gwayne. It is no mere flesh wound." With that, she took his hand in hers, and began to lead him to the medical station behind the training grounds. By the time they had reached the tent and Y/N was gently pushing Gwayne's shoulders to help him sit down, he really was feeling quite faint from the force of the blow to his head and his subsequent exertions to reassure his lady before he had fully recovered from it. As his vision began to swim, he leant forward, closing his eyes tightly. To his surprise, he felt Y/N wrap an arm around his shoulders and tug hin towards her so that his head fell onto her shoulders.

"Just take slow, deep breaths Gwayne," She softly urged.

Following her instructions, he quickly regained his vision and began to feel better, although he was reluctant to remove his head from her shoulder. Just as he was resolving to do so, however, not wishing to exploit her tender caress for him, he was arrested in his movements by the unexpected pleasure of her caressing his head, pushing back hair that had become stuck to his face with blood. Placing her palm on his cheek, she looked into his eyes intently as she enquired, "Are you beginning to feel better, Gwayne? I need to clean the wound to your head."

at him before she gently raised his head from her shoulder and pushed his shoulders back to lean him against a pillar. Gwayne lamented the loss of Y/N's touch, have felt sure that that would be enough to heal any injury he incurred, but she quickly returned to sit beside him eith a basin and cloth in hand. Raising her palm to his cheek once again, causing Gwayne's beast beat to accelerate, she dampened the cloth and began to dab gently at the wound on his head. Her eyes were fixed on his wound in intense concentration, as Gwayne looked at her in awe and adoration at her kindness and care for him. A pained expression overtaking her features, at what Gwayne assumed to be either her dislike of physical touch or the sight of the wound, he sought to remove any sense of obligation to assist him.

"You needn't do that, my Lady, if it distresses you. I know you do not care for physical touch."

He reached up to take the cloth from her hand but was pleasantly surprised when his lady took his hand in hers instead.

She fixed her eyes on his with an intensity and determination he had not expected, as she spoke in a measured tone.

"I do not mind when it is with you."

She met his gaze with a look of determination, her voice firm. "I will tend to them, Gwayne. It is no mere flesh wound." With that, she took his hand in hers, and began to lead him to the medical station behind the training grounds. By the time they had reached the tent and Y/N was gently pushing Gwayne's shoulders to help him sit down, he really was feeling quite faint from the force of the blow to his head and his subsequent exertions to reassure his lady before he had fully recovered from it. As his vision began to swim, he leant forward, closing his eyes tightly. To his surprise, he felt Y/N wrap an arm around his shoulders and tug him towards her so that his head fell onto her shoulders.

"Just take slow, deep breaths Gwayne," She softly urged.

Becoming lost in her beautiful eyes and her tender touch, it was a few moments before Gwayne, uncharacteristically, stuttered out a response. "I am, my Lady, thanks to your kind ministrations." She smiled tenderly at him before she gently raised his head from her shoulder and pushed his shoulders back to lean him against a pillar. Gwayne lamented the loss of Y/N's touch, having felt sure that it would be enough to heal any injury he incurred, but she quickly returned to sit beside him with a basin and cloth in hand. Raising her palm to his cheek once again, causing Gwayne's heart beat to accelerate, she dampened the cloth and began to dab gently at the wound on his head. Her eyes were fixed on his wound in intense concentration, as Gwayne looked at her in awe at her kindness and care for him. A pained expression overtaking her features, at what Gwayne assumed to be either her dislike of physical touch or the sight of the wound, he sought to remove any sense of obligation to assist him further.

"You needn't do that, my Lady, if it distresses you." He spoke softly so that she would know he only meant to be considerate, rather than to judge her for her aversion to physical touch.

He reached up to take the cloth from her hand but was pleasantly surprised when his lady took his hand in hers instead.

She fixed her eyes on his with an intensity and determination he had not expected, as she spoke in a measured tone.

"I do not mind when it is with you."

Stunned by her words, hope blooming within his heart, as he met her focused gaze, he once again found himself at a loss for words. At his silence and under his intense gaze, Y/N began to blush and to look timid, before she continued her ministrations. A look of concern settled onto Gwayne's features as he realised that his silence at his lady's brave profession may have made her feel awkward. He raised his own hand to enclose hers, which was dabbing the blood from his face, in his.

He spoke gently and reverentially as he chased her eyes with his. "It gladdens my heart to hear you say so. I am honoured by your trust in me."

She smiled up at him, affectionately patting his jaw with her other hand. "I thought you were going to tease me for being so bold or say something untoward." Her tone was teasing but he detected a degree of real insecurity behind it.

He looked at her seriously as he said his next words, so that she could be assured of his sincerity. "I would not tease you about something so important. Your trust is something I consider to be sacred to me." She looked at him carefully, as of trying to gage his sincerity before seeming to find what she was looking for in his eyes and smiling at him. Seeing her look of concern as he was unable to conceal his wince of pain as she pressed on his wound, he sought to distract her.

"I knew it! You were being too well behaved. Remember, Ser, you are not so injured that I will take pity on you if do not behave."

Holding his hands up placatingly, unable to repress his smile at her scolding, he adopted a contrite tone. "My apologies, my Lady. I assure you of my full cooperation and good behaviour from this point forward." He lowered his head towards her in contrition and was pleased when his lady mussed up his hair before she continued her ministrations. As he watched her, an adorable look of concentration on her face, he soon forgot about his injuries, lost in the feeling of elation at being so close to his love.

Hours later, Gwayne, Alicent and Y/N were sitting companionably by the fire in Alicent's apartments, having congregated there so that they could head down to the tourney's closing banquet together. The fate of the Queen and the heir had yet to be announced and the King had departed half way through the tourney, but the banquet was still set to go ahead in his absence. When Gwayne had recovered enough to return to his chambers and change for the evening's festivities, Y/N had changed in Alicent's rooms into another deep forest green gown. As she moved, the silk folds of her gown rustled like the faint sound of leaves falling in a forest, and Gwayne found himself once again mesmerized by her enchanting beauty. Following her friends' glowing reaction to her matching their House colours at the first banquet, Y/N had slowly started to incorporate more green into her dress.

At first it was a green velvet ribbon in her hair, which Gwayne was quick to notice. Upon taking his arm when he met her at her apartments the day after the first banquet, She watched as his mouth upturned in a smile as he spotted the ribbon. She expected him to tease her, and was already preparing her own witty retorts, but he only lowered his head to meet her gaze, a soft expression she could not quite place in his eyes, as he said quietly, "You must allow me to tell you how becoming your hair looks today, my Lady". The tenderness she detected in his tone and the warmth of his gaze made her sure that there was a reason why green was her favoured colour. Her preference for the colour had begun with the affinity she felt with Alicent, the sister of her heart, who had kindly given her some of her own ribbons, delighting at her friend's wish to match her. As Y/N found herself falling in love with Gwayne, her preference for the colour only increased, and his gift of a Hightower heirloom made her sure that he encouraged her affinity with his House. Her heart warmed at the thought and she began to smile at Gwayne's compliment before her face fell and she turned away from him to stare directly ahead of her, a look of resignation on her face.

A look of confusion settled onto Gwayne's countenance at the sudden fall in his lady's expression, concerned that his comment on her sweet gesture, in wearing Alicent's ribbon in her hair, was the cause. He was a fool to have commented on it, perhaps he had embarrassed her, he rebuked himself. He could not know that the reason for his lady's sudden change in mood was her own self disparagement. Every time she found herself losing herself in fantasies of Gwayne professing his love for her and taking her to live with him and Alicent in Oldtown, she was brought back to reality by the thought that she could never accept such a proposal. She had convinced herself, after years of hearing her father's injunction that her only purpose was to marry and rear children, that marriage was a prison. Falling in love with Gwayne had convinced her that the opposite could be the case; she could imagine no greater happiness, no greater freedom from the viper's nest that was King's Landing, than marrying the man she loved. Nevertheless, a different problem presented itself. Her aversion to physical touch was still an insurmountable obstacle to marriage.

Whilst she now welcomed Gwayne's touch, her heart skipping a beat every time he took hold of her hand, or brushed his knee or shoulder with hers when they sat side by side, she would never be comfortable with the physical intimacy expected of a wife to a husband. The thought continued to make her feel physically uncomfortable to the point of distress, and she knew that this would not change, even if she loved Gwayne. Gwayne's respect of her physical boundaries and the gentleness of his manner towards her had made her tentatively hopeful that he might not mind such an absence of intimacy. They seemed to share an intimacy between their souls, as if an invisible string tethered their hearts together, surmounting any physical intimacy. Years of her insecurities being cultivated by the men around her like a poisonous plant, coiling itself around her heart, meant that she would quickly reject such an idea. She resolved that she could not ask Gwayne to make such a sacrifice: to content himself with a wife who's idea of intimacy could never go beyond a kiss; to embrace the impossibility of his ever having an heir. No, she could not ask it of him. And yet she could not force herself to remove herself from his presence, feeling a need to be close to him, his presence like a warm ray of sunlight to her.

Whilst Y/N puzzled over her conflicting feelings, Gwayne struggled to think of a way to show his lady that, far from mocking her, he encouraged her wearing his House colours. A look of determination crossed his own features as he spoke in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. "Alicent has asked for me to send for some Hightower silks for her from Oldtown. I hope you do not think me too presumptuous, my lady, when I tell you that I asked for enough silk for two dresses to be sent to King's Landing." He hesitated, his own nerves getting the better of him, before he took a deep breath and continued hurriedly, 'I had hoped that, given your preference for the colour green, you would not object to the second dress being made for you. I know my sister did so enjoy seeing you match our House colours at the banquet...as did I." He said the last part in a soft, hazy voice as he became lost staring into her eyes, which looked back up at him in confusion.

A moment of silence passed, as his lady continued to look at him, several emotions flickering behind her eyes, as he feared he had gone too far in revealing his regard for her. Just as he was about to frantically apologise for his presumption, she said in a soft, hesitant voice, 'you mean for me to have the other dress?" At her tentative questioning, he smiled indulgently at her, assuming a teasing tone, "well it is most certainly not for me, although I am sure I would look good in it." He rejoiced as she broke into laughter at this, gripping tighter onto his arm to steady herself. "I don't know why you should laugh, my Lady. I am perfectly serious." At this, she only laughed harder and playfully jabbed her index finger to his chest. "Can you never be serious, Gwayne?" she laughed, her eyes sparkling. Gwayne's expression softened, as he met her gaze, "I assure you I can be most serious, when I care about something or someone." She stopped laughing at the emphasis he placed on that final word, meeting his gaze. "I am serious when I say that it is my most earnest wish that you should accept the dress. I do so love to see you wearing the colours of my House." Gwayne held his breath, awaiting her answer, feeling that he had gone further than he had previously dared in expressing his feelings for his love. His heartbeat began to soar when she placed her palm to his chest, where he was sure she could feel his heartbeat erratically. Looking up at him, she spoke in a soft voice to say, 'thank you, Gwayne." He sensed that there was more contained in her words, an understanding of what he meant by his gesture, and he struggled to contain his elation at the thought that she was beginning to entertain his suit for her love.

So it was that Y/N came to be wearing a gown made from silks in the colour of House Hightower, sent directly from Oldtown, as she and Alicent fawned over Gwayne's injuries from the tourney that day. From the smirk on his face, as Alicent held his hand and Y/N held a cold compress to his head, which, truth be told, had ceased to throb, it was clear that Gwayne was thoroughly enjoying their attentions. "Prince Daemon was a coward to challenge you, Gwayne. What quarrel did he have with you?" Alicent questioned through gritted teeth. Gwayne turned to his sister with a comforting gaze, "the quarrel was not with me, dear Sister. Do not take it so much to heart, although I am grateful to have such a fierce protector."

He smiled as Alicent laughed, before continuing in a more serious tone, "Daemon's quarrel is with our Lord, father. I was merely a means to an end." Alicent's eyes darkened at his words. "Our father is the coward then, to let you fight his battles for him. He does not care for us at all, only for his relentless scheming." Not wishing to turn Alicent against their father, since he was her only family in King's Landing, he patted her hand affectionately and said in a coaxing tone, "he does his best. I am sure he does all for the good of the family". Y/N spoke up now, unable to repress her anger. "If that is true, then why are you the one left injured and not your father, Gwayne? I saw your father watch on as you bravely met Daemon's challenge, a knight twice your age. It was cowardly for your father to urge you to accept his challenge." Gwayne was momentarily stunned at his lady's passionate defence of him, when he had watched his own father merely nod at him as he had rode forth to a fight he knew he could not win. Her care for his wellbeing had his heart swelling in affection for her.

Unable to contain it, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips to press a kiss upon it, gazing adoringly into her eyes as he did so. "Thank you for your concern, my Lady." Not wishing to completely alter the hitherto light tone of the three's conversation, he playfully added, "at least I am assured that my two favourite ladies would avenge me were I to fall in battle. I am sure that two more formidable assailants could not be found. Daemon shall have to watch his steps when you two are abroad." Both ladies pushed him playfully in the shoulders at this and he fell back onto the seat as they all broke out into laughter.

When the three had entered the banquet hall, Y/N had walked arm in arm with Gwayne, allowing him to lead her to the Hightower table, when a rough hand grabbed her free elbow. She whipped round to face her father who was glowering at her and Gwayne. "Thank you for escorting my daughter, Ser Gwayne. I will take her off your hands now." Gwayne's expression darkened and she could see him open his mouth to protest, when her father rudely wrapped his hand around her elbow and pulled her away from Gwayne. Her father rarely took an interest in her daily movements, almost viewing her in the same manner as household furniture, and he had not protested when she had sat with the Hightowers before, so had expected no opposition this time. She looked over her shoulder to see Gwayne looking back at her, his expression full of concern as he made to follow her, before Alicent placed a hand on his chest to prevent him and shook her head at him. Y/N attempted to smile encouragingly at him to reassure him that she was fine, before quickly turning away from him.

Throughout the duration of the banquet, Y/N snatched fleeting glances at the Hightower every few minutes and would meet Gwayne's waiting eyes, each time. He seemed to be trying to communicate to her with his eyes his concern and his willingness to rescue her, if she were only to give a sign. Not wishing to spoil his and Alicent's evening and embarrassed that the Court should be whispering about her closeness to the Hightowers, she resolved to direct her gaze to the floor for the rest of the evening. She was startled from her thoughts by the unwelcome sound of Tyland Lannister's voice addressing her father: "Good evening, my Lord. May I have your permission to lead your daughter to the dance floor." Y/N's anger at being treated as if she were merely a part of the furniture, with no will of her own, as Tyland avoided her furious glare, was promptly replaced by panic as she took in his proposition. She inwardly prayed that her father would reject Tyland's offer, but her heart plummeted when he quickly acquiesced. "Well met, Ser Tyland. Of course. Y/N would be delighted, I am sure." She looked to her father in panic, "I would rather not, if you please, father. I am tired and do not wish to dance." Her father only glared at her in response, "do not offend Ser Tyland, foolish girl. You are not yet too tired to dance." Saying this, he roughly pulled her from her seat by the elbow, and pushed her towards Ser Tyland, who took her hand in his and practically pulled her towards the dance floor.

Her attempts to pull away from his grip proved ineffectual, and she began to really verge on panic when he pulled her into his embrace, wrapping an arm around her waist. She thought she heard a chair abrasively screech against flagstone across the hall, but was too concerned with removing herself from Ser Tyland's grip to care enough to see the source. Not caring what anyone else thought of her, she attempted to remove herself from his grip by pushing against his chest. He tightened his grip on her to a painful extent as he leered in her ear, "not so brave now, are you, without your Hightower protectors." Relief flooded Y/N as she heard the welcome sound of Gwayne's voice, even if it was shaking with anger, "she is not without her Hightower protector, you coward." Y/N whipped her head to the side to see Gwayne stood at her side, trembling in his anger towards the bastard he had seen manhandle his lady.

As soon as Gwayne had seen Ser Tyland begin pulling his love to the dance floor, he had risen from his seat in fury. Telling Alicent to return to her chambers, not wishing her to see his anger, he strode across the hall to defend his lady. Could her father and Ser Tyland not see the distress they were causing her, or did they simply not care? Either way, the sight of his love so frightened and ill-used filled him with irrepressible rage and concern, as he came to her defence. Gwayne promptly grabbed Ser Tyland by the collar and pulled him aggressively from Y/N, forcing him to release his hold on her. "How dare you touch a lady without her consent," Gwayne spoke through gritted teeth, as he assumed a protective stance between his lady and Ser Tyland. Tyland responded in a nonchalant drawl, "her consent matters little to me if her father agrees to it." Y/N looked up to see Gwayne's expression darken, before he turned to her and gently took hold of her elbow to move her back a few paces, "pardon me, my lady." Y/N wondered what he meant by his actions, before he whipped round and struck Ser Tyland with such force he hit the floor. Y/N watched in shock as Gwayne withdrew his sword, pointing it towards Ser Tyland's chest, as he continued to lie on the floor.

She could hear the shocked gasps of the guests around the room at Gwayne's actions, but he seemed heedless to them, as he spoke low and dangerously to Tyland: "Say anything so ungallant of my Lady again, Ser, and I shall cut you from nose to navel." As he said this, he indicated with his sword the line which he threatened to cut, as Ser Tyland looked up at him in fear. When Tyland did not respond, and made no move to stand, Gwayne sheathed his sword and gently took hold of his lady's arm, leading her towards the door. With a feather light touch, he led her from the hall, not stopping until they were far from the banquet hall.

When he was sure that he had brought them far enough away from the hall, he stopped at the bottom of a staircase. He removed his hand from his lady's elbow, instead hovered his hands underneath her elbows, as if he wanted to hold her but didn't know if it would be welcomed. "I am sorry to have had to resort to such violence in your presence, my Lady. Are you well?" His heart constricted painfully in his chest as he saw his love attempt to nod in affirmation, before her lip wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. He hesitated, not knowing how to comfort her, when she leant her head forward to place it against his chest. He stood, frozen in place, unsure of how to respond, as to whether his touch would be welcomed, given what she had just experienced. He could no longer restrain himself from holding her, however, when he heard her begin to cry quietly into his chest. He tentatively placed his arms around her in a light embrace, ready to remove them if his actions only caused her further alarm. When his lady brought her hands up to curl them around the fabric of his shirt, he wrapped his arms more securely around her, softly stroking her hair as he whispered soft assurances. "It's alright, you are safe now. No one will touch you without your consent again, I promise you that."

He forced himself to repress his anger at her father for allowing such a brute to insult his daughter in such a manner, not wishing for his already frightened lady to be further distressed by his anger or believe herself to be the cause. His focus now was entirely on comforting her, as he continued to hold her in his arms until her sniffling faded. He heard her speak against his chest, though her voice was muffled by the fabric of his tunic: "thank you for protecting me Gwayne." Placing his head lightly upon hers, he spoke quietly and determinedly, "you can always be assured of my protection, my Lady." Trying to amuse her, he added in a light tone, "just point to the offensive individual and I will dispatch them forthwith." She laughed quietly into his chest but it still sounded more like a sob, and he stroked her hair gently. "May I walk you back to your chambers, my Lady, or would you prefer to wait for Alicent to join us. I am sure she would be only too pleased if you would spend the night in her room."

He waited for his lady to decide, inwardly hoping that she would decide on the latter course, unwilling to return her to the man who had been the cause of her distress. At least if she was with Alicent, he would be close by, should either of them need him. She would know that Gwayne would protect them both and he hoped it would make her feel safe and give her comfort. After a brief moment of hesitation, his lady spoke in a tremulous voice, which pulled at his heart strings, "I would prefer to wait for Alicent and spend the night with her, if it is not too much trouble." He smiled encouragingly at her, lightly brushing her arm with his hand, "it is no trouble at all. We shall rejoin Alicent and return to her chambers forthwith." Saying this, he held his arm up for her to take, and they began to make their way towards the Hightower apartments, where Gwayne knew Alicent had headed to, as soon as he had asked her to. A sense of relief flooded him, as he walked with his lady's hand placed on his arm, to know that he would not have to place her in harm's way again that evening. At the same time, he was filled with a renewed sense of determination to win her heart to him as his lady wife, and as quickly as possible. He could not rest if he knew she was still living under the authority of a man who was so careless of her comfort, even if he was her father. He well knew how little care his own father had for either himself or his sister, who he was equally anxious to remove from King's Landing. He resolved that he would find a way to protect both his love and his sister from the vipers both within the Court and their own families.

#gwayne hightower x reader #😭😭 in gwayne we trust

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