#i love it SO much in contrast with rhaenyra. whom is. still trying to be a good mom to jace (while still being flawed)

[mxwhore]

this one i think is my second favorite eppysode of the season

[justdillydally]

Will You Still Love Me? (Gwayne Hightower x OFC) 2

https://www.tumblr.com/justdillydally/759136953047433216/will-you-still-love-me-gwayne-hightower-x-ofc-1?source=share Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: The tourney commences. Rhaella was reunited with her cousin and her guise as a minstrel was short lived.

Chapter Rating/Trigger Warning for the chapter:  Teen and up audiences, non-graphic description of violence (they're in a tourney)

Note: I finally had a rough draft on how things will go in the story. It’s a slow burn as I mentioned and it looked like I might need to turn it into a trilogy if people still reads this. The first part (WYSLM) will have around eight or so chapters. I try to be fateful to the canon but I have to tweak up some details to make it work in the fic. Thank you for the kudos and reblogs from the previous chapter. I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this one!

@deniixlovezelda @loverslikeghosts

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Sunlight stretched across the field, once barren but now vibrant with a multitude of tents adorned with colorful banners bearing the coats of arms of the competing knights and noble houses. As the dew evaporated from the grass and the morning birds serenaded the new day, the arena buzzed with life. Spectators filled the stands, the clamor of preparations mingling with the excitement in the air.

Rhaella had hurriedly left the Red Keep as soon as she broke her fast, despite Princess Rhaenyra’s insistence that she stay in bed until the babe arrived. Dressed in a full-length gown of bronze and black, with intricate red embroidery, she made her way to the Royce tent. Her eyes danced over the elaborate designs of the Great Houses' tents, a stark contrast to the simpler attire of the smaller houses. The sounds of clanking metal, neighing horses, hushed conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter created a lively backdrop.

Finding the Royce tent was easy; its bronze fabric with black iron studs and the flag proudly displaying their sigil made it unmistakable. She lifted the flap and stepped inside, her gaze quickly taking in the unfamiliar faces. Two men stood by—one older, and the other around her age—while the only familiar face was that of her cousin, fully armored.

“Willam!” She greeted him with a broad smile, noting the similarity in their dark hair and shared features.

“Rhaella.” His voice was warm, and he welcomed her with an embrace. “You’ve grown up so much since I last saw you.”

She stepped back, her eyes assessing the changes in him. “And you’re a knight now. I’m impressed.”

Willam stood tall with a grin. “You should hear the tales of my exploits, cousin.”

She bit her lip, stifling a laugh. “I can only imagine the heroic stories you’ve accumulated.”

“Where is Ser Qarl?” He gestured to a boy, who promptly fetched chairs from the corner.

“I sent him to wait in the arena. He’s doing his duty well as my protector,” she assured him, wary of whom she could trust in King’s Landing, a place teeming with intrigue.

The boy arranged the chairs, and Willam addressed him. “Make sure my steed is ready, Allard.”

The older man bowed and left, while the boy returned to polishing Willam’s helm.

“How is Runestone?” Rhaella inquired as she took a seat opposite her cousin. Leaving home had been hard, but it comforted her to know it was in capable hands.

“Still standing, my lady. Leowyn is managing things efficiently in your absence.”

Relief washed over her, but concern quickly followed. “And Uncle Gerold? I haven’t heard from him in weeks. Is he aiding Leowyn?”

Willam’s expression grew serious. “He’s been occupied with the Hilltribes near the Gates of the Moon. Last I heard, they were driven back near Kingsroad.”

A worried look crossed Rhaella’s face, but she had a smile to cover it. “I’ll return to Runestone after my name day. I’m eager to help in any way I can. I miss the Vale.”

“You’ve missed the Vale, and not your charming cousin?” Willam’s smirk was playful, aimed at lightening the mood.

Rhaella laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Of course, I miss you too, but King’s Landing is so different from home.”

“We all miss your presence at Runestone. We look forward to your return,” he said earnestly.

The blare of trumpets and the roar of the crowd signaled the start of the tourney. Their conversation halted as they both stood.

Looking up at Willam, Rhaella placed a hand on his shoulder, her eyes brimming with pride. “I bid you good fortune in the tourney, Ser Willam.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” Willam bowed gracefully.

With a playful smirk, Rhaella added, “Show them what a Royce is made of.”

“I shall do my best not to disappoint,” he replied with a grin.

As Rhaella prepared to leave the tent, she froze. Her heart raced as she caught sight of Ser Gwayne Hightower on his steed, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. Instinctively, she ducked back inside the tent, her hand clutching her chest.

Willam’s concerned voice broke her reverie. “Lady Rhaella, is everything alright?”

Turning sharply, she met his worried gaze. Hesitation marked her tone. “It’s—it’s that Hightower knight.”

Willam’s eyes widened slightly as he opened the tent’s flap to scan the field. “Ser Gwayne Hightower? Are you hiding from him?” He closed the flap and returned to her.

Her fingers fidgeted, and she avoided his eyes. “He might have a reason to suspect that I’m a minstrel.”

Willam’s lips twitched in amusement. “Pray tell, dear cousin?”

Rhaella hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for the right words. Finally, she sighed. “Long story short, I needed money.”

Willam’s snort was barely restrained. “You needed money? And you chose to become a traveling bard?”

“I was training near the Roseroad. Ser Qarl and I needed to eat but had little coin.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she reasoned to him.

Willam’s amusement faded. “Just the two of you in the woods?”

Rhaella straightened, her voice defensive. “In King’s Landing, they don’t train ladies in combat. I use riding as an excuse, and Ser Qarl helps me practice.”

Willam’s tone grew serious. “It’s dangerous, Rhaella. People might start whispering about you and your sworn sword.”

She met his gaze firmly. “We’re not far from King’s Landing, and Ser Qarl is loyal. He’d never act dishonorably. You know that.”

Willam shook his head, sighing. “I’m not questioning either of you, but you’re the heir to Runestone. You need to be cautious.”

Rhaella’s expression softened with understanding. “If I’m to defend and rule Runestone, I need more than just words and courtesy. I’ll be careful, cousin.” She nodded in agreement.

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The stands buzzed with excitement as lords, ladies, and smallfolk alike filled the seats, eager to cheer for their champions. The vibrant colors of the banners fluttered in the breeze, and the noise of anticipation mingled with the occasional burst of laughter. Rhaella, having missed the early matches, finally made her way to the royal box.

King Viserys and Queen Alicent turned to her as she approached. “Where have you been? You nearly missed House Royce’s turn,” the King inquired, a hint of reproach in his voice.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Rhaella replied softly as she took her seat beside Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Princess, My Lord” she greeted them with a nod before turning her attention to the arena. The royal box was filled with the royal family, save for the toddlers and Princess Rhaenyra, who was resting as advised by the Maesters. Behind them, the small council lords occupied their seats.

A flutter of anxiety gripped her. What if Ser Gwayne doesn’t recognize me at all? After all, I’m not in my usual attire, and my hair is styled differently. The gods must be merciful if that’s the case.

Down in the arena, Ser Willam Royce charged against a knight from House Bettley. With a resounding clash, Willam’s lance struck his opponent’s helmet, though the opposing knight managed a hit on Willam’s shoulder. Despite the blow, Willam remained steadfast on his stallion, while his competitor was thrown to the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Rhaella clapped with enthusiasm. Willam was announced the victor, and the arena cleared for the next match.

Her heart skipped a beat when the announcer declared the next bout would be between Ser Gwayne Hightower and Ser Erren Appleton. Rhaella held her breath, hoping for a distraction or change of fate.

Before the match began, Ser Gwayne Hightower guided his steed toward the royal box, his visor raised and a grin playing on his lips. “For the Lady Rhaella Targaryen,” he called out, his voice carrying across the arena. “Her beauty is an inspiration to minstrels. May I have this favor?” He raised his lance, the sun glinting off its metal.

Rhaella felt the eyes of everyone in the box, especially the Queen, on her. “Ser Gwayne,” she said, her voice steady as she accepted the ribbon and flower. Despite her irritation, she managed a polite smile as she fastened the favor to his lance.

Their gazes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. The cheers of the crowd and the scrutiny of the royal box faded into the background. Her pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain composed, even as her lips tightened into a thin line.

As Ser Gwayne resumed his position and lowered his visor, the match commenced. Rhaella watched intently, her eyes tracking his every move. Despite her disdain for the Hightower, she couldn’t deny his skill. His strikes were precise, unhorsing his opponents with apparent ease. Each victory was followed by a growing sense of frustration and begrudging admiration from her something she won’t admit openly.

When the matches paused for an intermission, Rhaella headed toward the edge of the tourney grounds, planning to catch up with her cousin. But fate had other plans. Ser Gwayne appeared, his stride confident and his eyes twinkling with amusement. He approached her with a smirk.

“Lady Targaryen,” he greeted, bowing slightly, though his tone was more teasing than respectful. “I should thank you. Your favor seems to have brought me good fortune.”

Rhaella raised an eyebrow, her voice without warmth “Perhaps you should. I’m sure it was entirely my favor that kept you from falling off your horse.”

Gwayne chuckled, nodding. “It’s possible my skill had something to do with it,” he said, “but your favor certainly didn’t hurt. I must admit, you’ve surprised me, Lady Targaryen. I hadn’t expected a minstrel to secure a place at the royal box.”

“And you were too eager to believe that’s all I am,” Rhaella retorted, her shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug.

Leaning in slightly, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re not as discreet as you think, my lady. A lady hiding behind a minstrel’s guise?” He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval.

Rhaella stiffened, her discomfort barely concealed. She forced a polite smile, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Is it praise you seek, Ser Gwayne? Surely winning a few matches should be sufficient.”

Gwayne’s smile widened, his gaze lingering on her. “Victory is sweeter when noticed by those who appreciate it. You were watching closely, weren’t you?”

A flicker of annoyance crossed her face. Her lips curled into a smile yet her eyes were set ablazed, it reminded Ser Gwayne of Rhaella’s father. “I was watching the tourney, Ser Gwayne, just as everyone else was. You simply happened to be part of it.”

“And yet, you seem to be quite invested in my performance. Perhaps you enjoy the thrill of seeing me unhorse my opponents or is there something more?” Gwayne replied smoothly.

Her nose crinkled in the accusation. “I watch the tourney to appreciate the fine display of skill by knights. Your victories are impressive, but hardly a matter of personal concern to me.”

“You agree, it is impressive?” Gwayne’s grin widened, finding satisfaction with the reaction he was stirring within her. “And yet, you seem to be quite engrossed. It’s as if you are here to support me and not your own House.”

Rhaella never saw a reason to detest the Hightowers until Gwayne. The Queen has been dutiful to the King and despite her aloofness, she was kind to her and let her play with her children.  “Your confidence in yourself is admirable, Ser. You have more rounds to win, after all. It would be a shame if you were to lose.”

“I will certainly do well with the favor you bestow upon me,” he replied. The silence stretched between them as he gave her a slight bow. “Until the next round, then, Lady Targaryen.”

“Ser Gwayne.” She curtsied, her eyes following him as he walked away. Enjoy your victory until you can.

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Back in the royal box, Queen Alicent sat beside King Viserys who was busy conversing with Lord Corlys and the other Lords in the small council. The discussion of their favorite knights from the tourney was the main subject of their chattering.

Queen Alicent caught sight of her brother, and the unmistakable Heir of Runestone. Worry etched on her face, trying to decipher what the two could be talking about. Her fingers tapped the chair, watching Gwayne smiled at Rhaella. How did Gwayne know her? She has not been in Court when he last visited the Capitol, and she was with Gwayne since he arrived yesterday.

[shipcestuous]

Speaking about Aemond... how are we feeling about the implication that he heard about Jace and Luke being actually Harwin Strong's sons from Alicent, but he chose to blame Aegon instead? At least, that's what I got from the way he was looking all around when Viserys was interrogating him about it, like he didn't want to tell the truth and was looking for a scapegoat. I've seen people in the fandom talking about how he probably knew Aegon wouldn't get punished but he was actually afraid for his mother, thinking Viserys might harm her or at least get seriously pissed at her. I like that interpretation, but I can't help but think Aemond might just care more about the mother who comforts him and reassures him than the brother who doesn't seem to give a damn about him, lol.

Alicent also seems to play favorites with her sons, imo. She's quick to scold Aegon for not being a good older brother but she doesn't seem to care much about giving him his privacy (the "bursting into his room without knocking and finding him masturbating on the window" incident, lol), or even figuring out if he and Helaena would work well together before telling them they're gonna have to get married (political advantage or not, those two will probably have a rough time), and she has no qualms about shouting at him or slapping him when she thinks he's crossed a line, even if she does fear for him and want to keep him safe from the threat Otto has convinced her Rhaenyra will turn out to be. Meanwhile, even while worrying about Aemond, she first tries to sooth him by telling him she's sure he'll have a dragon, too, then stands up for him when he gets hurt and no one except for her seems to actually care.

And Aemond seems to return the favor, clinging to her when she's still shocked and furious and desperate and trying to break the tension and make her feel better by telling her not to mourn for him or his lost eye but look to the silver lining of him finally getting a dragon. And tbh, while I get that the kid is half-Targaryen and Targaryen are closer to gods than men and they have fire in their veins and anyway he's gonna do Bad Things when he grows up, blah blah blah... that's still a kid for now. A kid who's just been mutilated and is probably still in the process of wrapping his head around the fact that he will be half-blind for the rest of his life. And he still goes out of his way to protect his mom and try to make her feel okay.

I don't know, I feel they have an actually sweet bond when you really look at it. Plus, I also think this relationship is a really fun parallel and contrast to both Viserys "I have other kids besides my precious precious Rhaenyra (who happens to be basically the last memory I have of my beloved late wife Aemma and) whom I'll loyally, faithfully, devotedly defend against any evidence that might be right under my nose??" Targaryen and Otto "Put on your dead mother's dress and seduce a much older man so I can gain more power. Oh, you snapped and became brutally violent and merciless after years of pressure and emotional isolation? Lmao, about time you showed some spine, I didn't even think you had any and this is pretty damn hot... er, I mean cool!!" Hightower.

... I DO also think that Viserys/Rhaenyra and Otto/Alicent have the potential to also be very shippable relationships, btw, if that wasn't clear enough. XD There's precious few parents who have actually normal relationships with their children in this show, and I think that's pretty interesting from a parentcest shipping perspective.

I think all of Aemond's relationships are going to be pretty interesting. I do think he protected Alicent out of love. And I like your point of how significant it was that he took the time to comfort her after he lost his eye by telling her that he got the dragon and considers it a fair exchange. You can see his character change in that scene, he becomes older/colder, but he still loves his mother. I do think she probably favors him on some level. But how could she not?

Despite how messed up it is compared to what we would consider to be a healthy modern-day father/daughter relationship, I am very intrigued by Otto and Alicent. I loved that scene where he came to her, impressed. And while she might resent him on some level for making a match for her that has not made her happy, you can see how much it devastated her when he was removed as Hand, and how much it pleases her to have him back. When she became Queen, she thought he would be there in the castle with her, and then found herself alone. In the past few years she at least has had Aemond. I don't think she could rely on Aegon.

Viserys/Rhaenyra is a whole different animal but has lots of potential. It's too bad he became so ill just as Rhaenyra got older. He loves her deeply and wants to do right by her. He cares a lot about being a good father, more than most fathers in this world.