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The engine purred to life as Daeron flicked his cigarette into the dirt. He adjusted the rearview mirror for one last check and there you were under the golden streetlamp, walking home from your late night Bible studies. There wasn't anyone around besides him and you, the whole town already home and not on the main street.

His heart hammered like a drumline. But he had to stay calm and collected. He pulled up slow beside you but not too fast to scare you, then rolled down his window just enough so that dim glow lit half of your pretty face.

"Evenin’, darlin’," he said in the softest voice he could.

Before you could actually react, without one word even leaving your lips, he reached over grabbed your wrist gentle but firm and yanked you towards his truck.

The car door swung open with a creak, and before you could scream Daeron had already slid out of the driver’s seat and moved around like lightning in those worn cowboy boots of his.

He wasn't rough, just determined...

One strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you clear off your feet like some damsel in an old-timey western film. Except this wasn’t no movie set. His other hand quickly went to cover your mouth, in case you tried to shout for help.

Daeron lifted you over the threshold of his truck- right into the passenger seat. He slammed the door shut, ran back to his side, jumped inside and turned that ignition.

The tires screeched against the asphalt as Daeron peeled away from your quiet neighborhood. The radio crackled with static with some old country song playing faintly before he reached over and turned it off completely. Silence quickly fell.

Daeron’s jaw was clenched tight, his knuckles white on that steering wheel. He didn’t look at you, not yet. Couldn’t bear to see fear in those angelic eyes he’d memorized during church sermons… because God, this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

He wanted a proposal on one knee. Your hand slipping into his freely. A small church wedding. Wanted to bring you to his home in bridal style then have as many babies as financially possible with you.

Daeron had tried everything, really.

He’d asked your daddy for permission to court you and got shut down with a "You’re too rough around the edges for my daughter."

He’d shown up at family barbecues uninvited, bringing his mother's homemade peach cobbler like some lovesick idiot. Your cousin even teased you: “Girl, that boy stares at you like he’s starvin’.”

But every time he got close you smiled politely. But nothing beyond that. You never rejected nor accepted his advances. It wasn't like you were talking with another boy...

So one night something inside him finally snapped.

That night, Daeron sat alone on the porch of his family’s old farmhouse, just him and the crickets singing in the humid night. A ring box burned a hole in his pocket. He pulled it out.

Inside it was a simple diamond solitaire surrounded by tiny rubies, custom-made to match your favorite shade of red lipstick you wore every Sunday.

He’d saved for months. Skipped drinks. Sold part of his land share. Even turned down a lucrative cattle deal just so he could afford this thing without borrowing from banks or relatives who looked down on him anyway.

And yet… You didn’t even know he existed beyond "that sad boy with sad eyes" at church. It enraged him.

The next day he sold the diamond ring and bought through a property newspaper a small farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, Alabama, not too far away from Louisiana. It was near the Appalachian mountains so the police couldn't really find you there easily.

The deed was signed by noon. The farmhouse in Alabama wasn’t much: a weathered two-story with chipped paint and a porch that sagged slightly to the left. It was surrounded by dense woods, miles from any town or main road. The perfect place for a new family.

In the next weeks he mostly wasn't in town. The townspeople didn't notice his absence. He stayed in the farmhouse, renovating it as well as moving most of his stuff there.

Daeron as well bought everything he remembered you liked or would want here- a small pink Bible that he placed on your nightstand, fresh linens, your favourite mint tea that you drank in your daddy's diner as well as sundresses and nightgowns that he knew were popular with the housewives.

The truck bounced over dirt roads now, leaving paved streets behind as Daeron drove deeper into the backroads of Alabama. It was rather late so you couldn't really see where he was taking you.

Though you hadn’t spoken a word since he snatched you. It's not like you knew what to say to him. You were still shocked and haven't fully realised what happened just minutes ago.

Daeron kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, your face lit only by passing moonlight through the windows. You were hugging yourself in your church dress, knees pulled to your chest, looking smaller than he’d ever seen you before. That made his stomach twist.

He wanted to say something soft. To reach over and hold your hand like he’d dreamed of doing a hundred times.

But what could he say?

“Sorry I kidnapped you? Please forgive me?”

So instead, after nearly an hour of driving through endless woods, you finally spoke — voice low, rougher than usual from holding everything in.

"...Why did you take me..."

His hands tightened on the wheel. The truck slowed slightly, rolling over uneven dirt as he stared straight ahead.

“I couldn’t stand it no more,” he finally admitted, voice raw and low nothing like his usual playful drawl. This was Daeron bare.

“I asked your daddy… I came to every function… I brought you food even when you were sick...” His breath shuddered. “But you never looked at me twice..."

He loved you quietly. Like a man praying at an altar every Sunday for someone who never turned their head his way.

And now? Now he’d gone and done this. Crossed every line in the book just to have you near him even if it meant force.

“I bought us a home,” he whispered suddenly, like it explained everything. “Out here… no one knows us. We can start fresh.”

His eyes flicked to yours, desperate for forgiveness that hadn’t been given and maybe never would be.

"I dreamed of marrying you in church, having many babies and you stayin' home cleanin' and cookin'..."

To you his words sounded insane. Not just the kidnapping, no, that was bad enough but this fantasy he’d built where you’d be some docile housewife baking pies and rocking babies in a cabin deep in the woods? As if your whole life could just… reset because he decided so?

You looked out your window at the endless pines towering into the already black sky. This was isolation. You had no way of escaping. The nearest phone was probably miles away.

Then you finally spoke again:

"...Where are we going Daeron?..."

Daeron swallowed hard, his throat dry as dust.

“We’re going home...”

The truck turned onto a narrow dirt path, barely even a road. He’d driven this route six times already

After another five minutes of bumping along through overgrown woods, headlights finally illuminated it:

A small farmhouse.

It looked sad in all honesty. With a rundown yard and porch as well as peeling paint.

Daeron turned off the engine and silence filled the air again. Eventually after a few seconds he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of the truck.

A few moments later he opened your door and held it out for you. After you stepped out of the vehicle Daeron leaned down and carefully slid his arms under you, one behind your back, one beneath your knees. You didn’t resist. Maybe shock still held you frozen.

He carried you over to the front door, about 2 minutes of walking. Then he put you over his shoulder as he looked for his keys. Eventually he found them and opened the door.

Inside the house a dim light was one. The whole house surprisingly smelled like lemons like someone tried really hard to get rid of the smell of an old wooden house. Nevertheless it looked clean. There was a small fireplace, a kitchen table, a couch and stairs.

Daeron carried you through the living room and straight towards the staircase. He climbed up the stairs quickly with you still in his arms. Eventually you reached the top floor and in the end of the corridor upstairs there was a room. A bedroom it seemed.

The room looked newly renovated: with a four poster bed and fresh new linens as well as a nightstand where a small pink Bible was placed along with a rose on top of it.

Daeron brought you over to the bed and placed you on it, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Then stood there for a second… staring.

You looked so beautiful tucked among those frilly pillows and lace sheets he’d chosen just for you. So perfect it hurt. It made his chest tightened.

Daeron slowly took off his boots, placing them neatly by the door. Then, without a word, he walked to the other side of the bed and sat down carefully.

Minutes passed where both of you just sat in thought, not really looking at eachother.

But Daeron couldn't take the silence much longer so he finally reached over and slowly pulled the blanket up from your feet. His fingers brushed your arm lightly through the fabric, sending an involuntary shiver through him because you were here. In his bed. Under his roof.

He took a long exhale then leaned back against the headboard, still fully dressed in his flannel and jeans and stared at the ceiling once again.

He didn’t know what to do. Should he remain silent or talk? Touch you or leave you to sleep? Sleep next to you or sleep on the couch downstairs?

The soft rustle of fabric drew Daeron’s attention back to you instantly. Then you finally spoke:

"Why did you bring me here, Daeron?"

Daeron turned his head toward you, his profile soft in the dim light. He opened his mouth and reluctantly began:

"Because I love you, damnit... I wanted us to live together, be married, have babies runnin’ through this house.” His hand gestured weakly around the room.

He dreamt of kissing and hugging you daily especially at night in his lonely bed back in Louisiana. He didn't want to scare you.

Then Daeron began again:

“I bought this house two weeks ago,” he admitted. “Had it cleaned, decorated how I thought you’d like. Planted flowers outside and even painted the nursery lilac and blue..."

He pointed toward a small room down the hall, door closed but visible from where you both sat. The one with tiny hand-painted stars on it.

“I… I dreamed about pushin’ your baby stroller through these woods,” he whispered almost as if he was talking to himself now. “You wearin’ my ring. Smilin’ at me every mornin'."

He felt utterly brocken and stupid. He wanted to be a gentleman, like in those old western movies. He stared at your hands resting on top of the blanket.

“I shoulda asked you properly..." he mumbled.

He reached into his back pocket and carefully pulled out a small velvet box. His hands shook slightly as he opened it.

Inside of it was a delicate silver ring with a small tourmaline. He must’ve saved up again after selling the first ring just to get this one made. It wasn't overly fancy but very sweet.

And then Daeron Targaryen slid off the bed onto his knees right there on that wooden floor and knelt Infront of you with the box in his trembling hand.

Your heart pounded. You knew what this meant. There he was. Daeron. The boy who’d stared at you from across the church pews for months if not years, who brought your mom peach cobblers without being asked, who always tipped his hat when you passed by... But more specifically the man who kidnapped you, now on his knees. In a house he bought for you, nevertheless.

Despite the abduction you couldn't really bring yourself to hate him. You looked at his face, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, how he bit that bottom lip again to stop it from shaking. How young he suddenly seemed, not like some reckless kidnapper but a scared and lovesick man.

Your chest tightened. And before you could even think before logic or anger could kick in your hand slowly lifted, reaching toward him.

And when your fingertips finally touched the velvet box in his palms his lips parted, softly forming a single word:

"...Yes?"

Your fingers curled slightly around the box… not pushing it away. Not rejecting him.But rather accepting him. And that was all he needed.

In one slow, reverent motion he lifted the emerald ring from its velvet cradle and gently took your left hand in his larger one.

The silver band glided smoothly onto your finger and it was a perfect fit. Daeron had measured it from a photo of your hand he’d secretly taken at church last month

His eyes began filling with tears. And without being asked Daeron pressed the gentlest kisses on your knuckles. Tears kept falling, quiet and steady, tracing paths down his stubbled cheeks. You were his fiancée and he couldn't really believe it.

The next day he left to go buy groceries and supplies in town. Leaving you locked in the house with a good few hours to explore it

He kissed your forehead softly while you were half-awake.

“I’m goin’ to town” he murmured “Gonna get fod, stuff for the house and maybe some flowers.”

Then he paused by the door then continued:

“You okay here? Need anything before I leave?"

You sat up in bed, the tourmaline ring catching morning light on your finger.

You nodded slightly.

“I’m good...” you said softly, still sleepy

Daeron studied you for a moment before he grabbed his keys. You sat there in his shirt and in his home. But before he left he walked back to you and kissed you, this time on the lips.

Then he reluctantly pulled back and left.

He started the engine, then glanced back at the farmhouse. It looked peaceful. Homey.

You were home now. His wife-to-be. His future.

A small smile tugged at his lips for just a second before he shifted into drive and headed down that dirt road toward town which was about twenty miles away from here.

Daeron’s truck engine rumbled to life outside then faded as he drove down the dirt road, leaving you alone.

You sat still for a moment, listening to the silence settle in after Daeron’s departure. The house felt different now that it wasn’t filled with his nervous energy or quiet glances.

Feeling curious, you slowly slipped out of bed barefoot on cool wooden floors and padded toward the kitchen first.

There you grabbed a small cheese bun, eating it while you explored.

Moving further down the hall, you passed by a new room. It was slightly ajar.

Inside: A neatly made king-size bed with a dark green comforter, one pillow dented where his head had been last night.

On the nightstand was a half-empty bottle of whiskey and an old photo frame facing down. Perhaps it was Daeron's personal room before he began sleeping next to you?

You hesitated, you wanted to give him privacy. But curiousety got the better of you and you slowly lifted the frame.

The frame featured a black-and-white photo. There Daeron, much younger- probably 13 or 14, stood besides a kind-faced older woman in front of an old church. His momma. She looked gentle, with soft eyes and silver streaks in her hair. One arm around him lovingly. The photo was worn out, perhaps from too much touching.

As you continued to inspect it you noticed a small note on the back that said:

"She would have loved her"

Your breath caught. It was proof that Daeron wanted you to meet her someday. That he imagined introducing you to his mother- someone so important she had her own frame right by his bed. You carefully placed it back down, heart squeezing. You left the room, not wanting to invade Daeron's privacy furthermore.

Then curiosity pulled you toward the nursery door, the room next door. He had pointed it to you yesterday already but hadn't yet showed it to you. You crept down the hallway.

The nursery door was painted sunny yellow and a small silver star sticker decorated the frame. Daeron must’ve done this all himself. The knob turned easily, no lock whatsoever.

Inside there was a tiny crib with soft white linens, a rocking chair in the corner and

Framed artwork of baby animals on one wall. As well as a bookshelf filled with parenting guides and even several picture albums titled "For Our Child."

One album sat slightly forward, like he’d been looking at it recently. It seemed to be a makeshift baby name book. Names were highlighted in soft pink and blue. You smiled faintly. It was sweet. Painfully so.

Then you noticed something else on the shelf: A small stuffed bunny, its fur worn from being held too much. You picked up the stuffed bunny, its fur soft, but clearly well-loved. One ear was slightly frayed, and it had a tiny blue ribbon tied around its neck. This wasn’t bought for some baby, it looked old. This was something Daeron had chosen maybe even hugged himself when he got lonely or missed you before he ever took you here.

You cradled the bunny gently, sitting down in the rocking chair. It creaked softly under your weight still new, not yet broken in. Soft light illuminated the room. And for a moment you let yourself imagine it- a life with Daeron Targaryen.

Just… what if?

What if you said yes to marrying Daeron?

What if this really was your home?

And that nursery someday had a real baby sleeping in that crib?

You rocked slightly in the chair, still holding Daeron’s bunny. And without meaning to, your eyes drifted shut. Within minutes you were fast asleep.

Hours later The jingle of keys snapped you awake. Daeron was back. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dimming light. The sun had shifted across the sky as it was late afternoon now.

Footsteps padded through the house, light ones at first, then heavier ones as he moved toward where you sat. Then the door opened.

And there stood Daeron, hair slightly windblown from driving, arms full of grocery bags overflowing with food. Daeron froze when he saw you- still in his shirt, curled up in the rocking chair with his bunny. The sight punched him right in the chest.

For a second, he just stared, heart swelling so hard it hurt. Then quietly, so as not to startle you, he stepped inside and carefully set all the grocery bags on the floor by his feet.

A few peaches spilled from the bag as well as a few tomatoes. But tucked between them was a bouquet of white daises and baby's breath. Daeron reached for them carefully, plucking a few smoushed ones.

He walked over to you on quiet feet and knelt beside the rocking chair. Then he held out the small bundle of white blooms.

You looked at the flowers- pure white daisies with tiny green stems and soft baby’s breath filling in the gaps. They were perfect. Your heart did a funny little flip. Without speaking yet you reached out slowly and took them from his hands

Daeron didn’t pull away. He just stayed there on his knees beside your chair, watching every tiny movement: how you smelled the daisies, how your eyes softened, ect.

He hadn’t seen that look before. This was different. You weren't looking at him like an intruder but rather as your husband-to-be...

A week passed rather quickly in which all the preparations for the tourney were made.

Today was the Mother's day tournament. King Aegon ii had declared it in honour of his mother and his wife and queen- Helaena who gave birth to his fourth child- princess Elaena, a moon ago. It was as the first royal tourney in over 20+ summers. Almost all important houses were invited, even those who supported Rhaenyra in the war as he pardoned them eventually.

Your family was present too. A day before the tourney they arrived at the Keep. It was the first time seeing them in months. You missed your mother and siblings very much if you were honest despite writing to them at least twice a moon. All three of your brothers were present and eager for the tourney as it was the first tourney that your second brother Derrick and the second of your eldest brother Walys, your youngest brother Owen was only ten summers old so he couldn't yet participate but nevertheless he too was excited.

Unfortunately you didn't sit near them when the tourney began as you sat near the Dowager, right next to Myla and Collena. It was supposedly the best place to view the tourney from.

You wished Gwayne sat near you but he was competing in the joust alongside tens of other knights from all across the realm. Before the 6 way joust began as the crowd was quieting down and waiting for it to begin he motioned his black stallion towards the rolls where you sat alongside the other nobles.

You didn't know what he'll do. You had never been previously at a tourney. But as he was resigning his horse to stop Myla shook you and whispered behind her hand that he wanted your favour- preferably a ribbon. You were surprised but quickly pulled off one of the ribbons in your hair- a red ribbon with golden embroidery.

Ser Gwayne lifted his visor slightly so he could see you better as you carefully stood up from the pews and went over to give him your favour. Everyone was staring at you as you walked. A lot of mumers could be heard in the nature: "Ser Hightower took the sash of one of Lord Fossoway's daughters...". Gwayne took your ribbon and kissed the cloth before tying it carefully around his lance. Then as he moved back towards the jousting grounds the herald called out for the first jousting to start.

Six knights were lined up on- three on the right and three on the left. Gwayne was positioned on the right flank with his black stallion. Across from him was one knight from House Royce who's name you didn't remember. The herald raised his voice, declaring the first tilt:

"In the first joust the matches have been selected in the order: Ser Ronell Hayford versus Ser Jeran Sarsfield, Ser Gwayne Hightower versus Ser Ronan Royce and lastly Ser Harrold Westerling versus Ser Walys Fossoway"

At your side Myla leaned forward eagerly while Collena watched with quiet interest. Then the horn blew and in the next second the horses of the Hayford and Sarsfield knight shook the earth as they rode forward towards eachother with their lances ready. The two men clashed but in the end Ser Jeran Sarsfield’s lance splintered first, sending splinters flying, while Ser Ronell Hayford held firm and kept his balance. The Hayford won that round.

But you didn't pay too much attention to the opponents. Your eyes were only on Gwayne who was next to them on the neighbouring row. He seemed very focused and it seemed that he was trying to calm his horse down as the stallion was quite energetic. After the winner of the first round dismounted he and his opponent were escorted the second dual quickly began.

Gwayne's opponent was a rather bulky Vale knight with a massive dappled warhorse. Gwayne's own stallion seemed even more impatient- constantly stamping and neighing.

Then the horn was heard. In that moment both horses surged towards eachother. The crowd was loudly talking and cheering for whoever knight they supported. Gwayne's lance dipped low as it moved closer to the Vale knight before it violently spllited the Royce's shield, injuring his arm. The knight struggled to stay on his horse. A few seconds later he fell and hit the ground hard but thankfully didn't seem too injured.

The crowd erupted. You alongside most nobles clapped. The royal family seemed the most pleased with prince Daeron and his newlywed wife Patricia Redwyne clapping the loudest. Myla was grinning at you as she knew what it meant- you could actually become the Queen of love and beauty if Gwayne wins 2 more jousting matches.

Before you could overthink this the next dual was to begin- between a westerling knight and your eldest brother. Walys was a tall and broad shouldered man with copper hair and sharp features like your father. He wasn't a great knight if you were honest, he had never won a tourney match but his stubbornness made up for his "success". You were nervous as his opponent- Harrold Westerling was known for his brutality in tourneys. Walys rode onto the dusty ground with his brown mare with the Fossoway sigil on his helmet and shield. He had a favour on his arm from his wife whom he married just two summers ago- Lady Ella Crane, who sat next to your mother. Across from him Ser Harrold entered like a storm. You turned your head towards your family. Your mother and Ella Crane seemed especially nervous as Harrold was notorious for injuring many knights.

The horn finally blew. The horses surged forward and the lances lowered. Westerling struck true first and hit Walys square in the chestplate with such force that your brother rocked backward violently. His horse reared up slightly from the jolt but somehow he stayed on.

You thanked the Seven for this. Then for the second round the two riders sped past each other at full gallop. The Westerling leaned far too forward and with a heavy thid fell as he was hit by your brother's lance. Ser Harrold seemed quite injured and for a moment everything was quiet.

The second round of jousting happened between your brother, Gwayne, Ser Ronell Hayford and Ser Lewys Piper. In the end Gwayne had the most points- after winning against Ronan Royce in the first round, against Lewys Piper and even your own brother in the second round. Your brother unfortunately fell in the second round against Ser Gwayne but he was still proud of himself for winning his first tourney dual in the first round and against Ronell Hayford in the second. He fortunately placed too, on second place, after Gwayne.

Almost immediately after the joust Gwayne came to check up on Walys. He wanted to see if he was okay as Walys was still a fairly new jouster with not much experience. He didn't expect you to also be there as you were checking up on his horse which you spent years riding when growing up in Cider Hall.

Gwayne dismounted near the stables, his armor still on but his visor now lifted and walked towards where Walys sat slumped against a hay bale next to his wife. Walys looked exhausted but still had a calm smile on. His wife, Lady Ella Crane, was treating his small wounds.

Then Gwayne stepped forward and nodded respectfully to Lady Ella.

"You fought well," the Hightower knight said simply.

Without a word, he reached into the saddlebag at his belt and pulled out a small linen pouch tied with string. Inside were dried apple slices meant for horses. Gwayne stood back after handing over the apple bundle, his emerald eyes flickering briefly to you before returning to Walys.

"The exiting ceremony begins soon," he said, voice low but clear. "King Aegon will name the champion. You should go prepare if you'd like to attend."

Lady Ella glanced between you two then stood smoothly.

"I’ll escort her back," she offered gently.

Ella took your arm gently and began leading you back toward the Keep’s towers where Alicent’s chambers were. It would have been very improper for a maiden like yourself to walk around alone or be accompanied by a man that isn't her family member or husband. Myla and Collena would be waiting there, no doubt helping other ladies adjust their gowns or hair for the ceremony.

Back in the royal chambers, ladies were already helping each other adjust their gowns like smoothing their skirts and fanning themselves from the summer heat.

Alicent looked up from her seat where she sat watching servants prepare one of Queen Helaena’s ceremonial gowns for the ceremony. Alicent studied you for a long moment. Then, without speaking, she gestured to one of her maids.

"Fix Lady Fossoway's hair," she ordered calmly. "And bring the pearl tiara, the small one."

The command surprised Myla slightly, even she knew that Alicent rarely handed out royal jewelry so freely.

Within minutes, a maid returned with an elegant circlet. It was a delicate silver twisted into vines and adorned with tiny pearls. They began arranging your hair carefully around it.

Alicent stood too now, the Dowager Queen taking Queen Helaena’s arm as they prepared to lead their group toward King’s Court for ceremony, with the children following.

Myla leaned over and whispered: "Whatever happens tonight… I think it’ll be big... Perhaps I could finally find a match father would approve of..."

A good few minutes later everyone returned back to the tourney grounds for the ending ceremony. King Aegon II sat on his throne beneath a golden canopy made just for outdoor processions and tourneys, Queen Helaena beside him along with the prince of Dragonstone- Prince Jaehaerys, along with princess Jaehaera, prince Maelor and little princess Elaena.

Then the trumpets blared again. Then the King began crowning each winner in the different competitions that took place today (most of which you didn't have the chance to see): archery and melee fights which were unladylike in the Dowager Queen's opinion that's why you got ready alongside her, almost as if she was bored by those competitions, only really being present at the last melee when Ser Criston Cole was present.

Every knight and participant that won had been crowned with a garland of bronze.

A quite unknown Valeman had won three straight matches in archery. Another- a riverman, had won the melee. No one cheered wildly as this part was more ceremonial than exciting.

Then a few moments later the herald stepped forward and announced:

"The jousting champion of this tourney is Ser Gwayne of House Hightower!"

The crowd erupted as Gwayne stood up from his seat without a word or dramatic gesture and walked forward toward King Aegon, his nephew.

A servant approached with a larger bronze wreath than the others but this one was intricately woven with emerald leaves.King Aegon took it from the servant then lifted it slowly above Gwayne's head. Then he spoke, loud enough for all to hear:

"Ser Gwayne Hightower… champion of jousting at this tourney. May your skill and honor be a light to others and the Seven."

Gwayne bowed deeply first to the king then briefly toward Queen Helaena beside him.

But then something quite unexpected happened. Gwayne stepped forward and began walking toward you.

Then he placed another bronze garland on top of your head, this one with little ruby gemstones. A herald immediately announced:

"The Queen of Love and Beauty has been chosen- Lady Y/N of House Fossoway, third daughter of Lord Fossoway"

In that moment every head turned toward you as the herald’s voice rang out across the silent lists. Gwayne stood beside you close enough that his armored shoulder almost brushed your gown.

A feast took place in the Throne Hall an hour later with one of the longest tables you've ever seen, all filled with meats, pies and fruits alike. This time your family was placed near you- at the high table next to Dowager Alicent. This was unusual as all the other ladies-in-waiting of the former Queen were sitting alone besides her without their families next to them. But you didn't want to overthink too much at this nice dinner feast.

The evening took turn when your father stood up, seemingly the only one standing in this entire room. He raised his goblet high and in that moment all chatter died down. Queen Alicent followed suit, raising her silver goblet as well.

Your father then cleared his throat and began talking:

"Your Highnesses, friends, lords, and ladies of the realm," he began, "we stand here today not just to celebrate this church holiday and tourney but to announce a much anticipated union..."

Then Alicent brought her goblet higher and it seemed that she was going to speak next as your father stopped.

"By the grace of the Seven," she began, "and by the blessing of our families and King… I am pleased to announce the betrothal of my brother Ser Gwayne Hightower…"

She paused just a second then continued:

"...to Lady Y/N Fossoway, daughter of Lord Fossoway of Cider Hall."

She paused, letting it sink in, then without missing a beat:

"Their marriage shall take place on Midwinter’s Eve."

The hall erupted with cheers and congratulations. Your mother and father seemed absolutely pleased. Minstrels immediately switched tunes to joyful ballads. Even Aegon II raised his goblet and shouted: "Let us drink in honour of my uncle and his future bride!" Servants began pouring wine faster than ever. Myla turned to you across the table and mouthed: "You’re betrothed."

But all you could really focus on was Gwayne's playful smile as his emerald eyes never moved from yours.

Sidenote: lemme know what you think! I rarely get comments so I have no idea what y'all want to see next 🤧

But he didn't look sorry at all. He looked proud of himself, almost victorious. Instead, he leaned in again, but slower this time and pressed another kiss to you- quite brief as before but even sweeter. His lips lingering just half a second longer than necessary before pulling back once more. You still hadn't moved. Still wide-eyed, lips slightly parted just like a minute ago.

Ser Gwayne then reached for your hand and lifted it slowly. Then pressed light kisses on your knuc like the most proper knight would with his lac a tourney.

Gwayne kept your hand in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles absently like he was gathering courage.

Then, without warning (or so it seemed to you), he spoke:

"My father and yours... they've been discussing an arrangement since the day of the victory feast."

You blinked. What?

Your mind stumbled. That couldn't be right. Your father hadn't said a word, not when saying goodbye that morning or in any letter of his.

"My dear sister and father believed a match between our houses would strengthen the Greens' position but he didn't talk to your father until the victory feast..." he explained quietly. "And your father Lord Fossoway saw it as an honor- his daughter marrying into one of Westeros' greatest and richest Houses."

Then Ser Gwayne continued but this time in a quieter and more intimate tone: "But I swear to you this- this wasn't forced on me. I asked him myself if I could court you... I had the option of one of Jason Lannister's daughters and you... But after dancing with you, I was you enourmed..."

The confession hung in the air, it was quite quiet, sincere, and utterly disarming.

You stared at him. He chose you? Out of all possible matches? Gwayne Hightower- the knight praised for his honor and discipline, the son who'd fought loyally for King Aegon II alongside the Hightower army and Daeron... had chosen to pursue a Fossoway girl barely eighteen summers old. Andon top of that- he had your father's approval.

Then he lifted both of his soft hands and cradled your face gently with them. Like how a father would. he simply looked at you- those emerald eyes searching yours eagerly. Then slowly and carefully he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

But soon, too soon, the castle bells tolled curfew.

Then as quickly as he kissed, he stepped back. Without another word Gwayne turned slightly and summoned one of Dowager Alicent's guards with a small nod.

The guard turned to you, offering his arm but not in a romantic way like Gwayne had done earlier, but as an official escort for a lady-in-waiting returning to her chambers.

You glanced back at Gwayne one last time before taking the guard's arm. He stood there beneath the ivy arc, watching you go with a calm expression not with his usual smirk now. Then slowly he turned and walked away in the opposite direction, mayhaps to his own chambers?

The next few days settled into a quiet rhythm.

You rose early with the other ladies before dawn broke, attending morning prayers in the sept, then helping Alicent dress. The Dowager was meticulous about her appearance: every pearl pinned just so and every fold of her gown smoothed perfectly. She now usually wore darker greens instead of the lighter green and red she had worn when she was young in the royal family portraits you saw in her chambers daily.

Often, you'd see Gwayne in the courtyard at dawn, sparring with squires or practicing sword forms with prince Daeron. Other times, he joined lunches in Alicent's solaror or simply passed through the garden paths where you might be walking alone.

After that came lessons: needlework, courtly etiquette like how to curtsy for different lords, and sometimes reading aloud from books of history, poetry or theology of the Seven.

Often during the day's breaks after evening prayers he'd appear quietly at your side sometimes bringing small gifts. One it was a book of poems from Essos. Another time it was a delicate engraved silver hairpin with an apple- like your House's symbol.

Collena remained reserved but grew slightly more at ease around you; she'd sit beside you during meals now without silence stretching awkwardly between you two. Myla Brax chatted as much as ever but had started dragging you into conversations too.

Sometimes at noon, one of Alicent's pages would appear at your side holding a small note sealed with wax with the Hightower sigil. Usually he invited you for walks in the Keep. What was going to be inside today, you wondered. Inside was just a sentence neatly written: "Will you take an evening walk in the city?"

You'd read the notes in secret, slipping them into your sleeve before anyone noticed and if you answered yes, a reply would be sent back within the hour.

Gwayne never came to fetch you from Dowager Alicent's chambers himself. That would've been improper for an unmarried lord and lady-in-waiting. Instead, his squire Alan Ashford or sometimes Myla (who clearly enjoyed playing massager) would appear at your door with quiet news: "Ser Gwayne awaits."

The first time he took you beyond the Red Keep gates happened a day ago, after Alicent dismissed you, Myla and Collena for the day as she was to pick a gown for princess Jaehaera and Queen Helaena since King Aegon ii was hosting a Mother's Day tournament, the first one in over 20 years, near the capital.

You wore a simpler gown- a soft grey dress that was for more suited for walking outside without bringing attention to yourself and possibly being robbed than your usual embroidered gowns. King's landing was far from being a safe city.

It was a chaotic place, drastically different from Cider Hall. The streets were narrow and crowded: merchants shouting about their wares, children darting between legs, dogs barking at carts rolling by.

No guards followed, Gwayne instead that just carrying a sword with him was enough as he claimed in his own words that he was "stronger than 2 thugs combined". He too wore plain clothes- a grey doublet and black pants.

He led you through the narrow alleys of the capital.

Walking past an apothecary whose windows displayed dried herbs hanging like small bunches and then toward one of the city's older gates that opened onto a winding road along the shore. The sea stretched endlessly ahead. Gwayne chose a quiet spot where the shore met the cliffs- a small, secluded stretch of sand half-hidden by sharp rocks.

The waves lapped gently against the stone.He sat first on a flat slab of weathered rock, kicking off his boots and then patted the space beside him.

You joined him quietly, smoothing your skirts before sitting down. The sea air was cool but pleasant and surprisingly fresh despite being near the biggest port in Westeros. Long silence stretched over.

Then Gwayne turned his head and looked at you.

The fading light painted gold streaks across his face, catching in the strands of his pale blonde hair.

Ser Gwayne studied your profile for a few seconds before he reached out and tucked a loose strand behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your temple then gently trailed down to brush against the side of your jaw.

And just like that night in the garden he... kissed you yet again. This time it was very slow, slower than your first.

Eventually after a few hours of talking the sun had dipped fully below the horizon by the time you and Gwayne walked back to the Red Keep in silence.

When guards at the gate saw Ser Gwayne returning with a lady-in-waiting, they didn't question it; everyone knew by now that he'd been courting you openly since dinner that first night.

You slipped into Alicent's chambers where Myla and Collena were still helping sort through gowns for Princess Jaehaera and pretended nothing unusual had occurred.

You first went to your new room. It was rather bare but spacious. You had one maid who introduced herself as Merlyn. She was a bit older than you but seemed sweet and kind enough. She helped you unload your items from your chest. You decided to then explore the castle more and perhaps even meet the other ladies-in-waiting with whom you were going to spend a great deal of time with soon.

While walking near the garden entrance one of Queen Alicent’s ladies-in-waiting, a girl named Myla Brax, came up beside you. She was tall for her age (as she later mentioned she was only thirteen summers old), freckled across her nose like scattered cinnamon dust and had long curly brown hair. She seemed shy but kind. She invited you to have tea with her in her own chamber which was close to your own. After climbing the impossibly high stairs back to your floor she invited you inside. There she had her handmaiden bring you both some tea and lemon cakes. She had her place them on a table near her big window which had a better view than you, overlooking the coast and the courtyard. You looked over to the courtyard. Your heart stopped when you saw Ser Gwayne was training there, sparring his nephew Daeron. He looked very handsome and knightly. It made your cheeks deep pink. Myla noticed it and just chuckled "You seemed flustered. Is it because of prince Daeron, as they call him "the daring"? He's the most wanted bachelor of the summer..." Before you could explain yourself her servant arrived with the tea and cakes.

The next day while embroidering with Dowager Queen Alicent, Queen Heleana and Myla in your lady's chambers. You sat cross-legged on a velvet cushion besides Myla Brax, your hands carefully stitching tiny roses onto a handkerchief meant for Gwayne- a copy of a handkerchief you made that he mentioned admiring once at that previous dinner. Queen Helaena and Alicent sat on high-backed chair near the fireless hearth since it was summer, the new Queen Helaena embroidering a silk baby cape presumably for her small son- prince Maelor while the Dowager Alicent was embroidering a linen cloth meant for the Keep's sept.

Today another girl your age introduced herself as Collena Swann when you and Myla were walking in the throne room. She was rather quiet, with long black hair and deep grey eyes. She was sitting besides you and starting her own embroidery which seemed to be a star of some sort, perhaps that of the Seven.

The Dowager spoke first again after a moment of peaceful silence: “Collena,” she said, “how do you find King’s Landing?” Collena’s grey eyes lifted briefly. "It is… very loud," she said, her voice quite meek. Myla bit back a giggle behind her embroidery frame but you saw how Collena tensed just slightly under the attention of 4 noblewomen.Then Heleana spoke up finally: "Do you miss home?" Silence filled the room just for a few seconds before Collena said simply: "...Yes", perhaps too fast and short.

In the hours to come the sun dipped low. The embroidery session ended when Alicent set down her needle with a soft sigh. “You’ve all done well today,” she said kindly, rising from her chair. “Collena.” Then Alicent gave one of those small maternal smiles and calmly said: “Dinner will be served shortly in the small hall. Join me all three there.” Then Heleana followed suit, gathering her materials before standing gracefully.

Dinner was reserved for only close kin and favoured guests. The dinner table was already served on the long table with the realm's best cuisine. You were seated near Alicent’s right hand, her personal ladies placed closest to her during meals before you all get accustomed to the court. Across from you was none other than Gwayne... When servants brought around spiced arbour wine first for tasting before pouring into cups properly, he took a sip without rushing, all the while glancing at you over his rim. Gwayne set his goblet down gently and turned fully toward you, ignoring the low hum of conversation around the table: Alicent speaking to Heleana, Aemond conversing with Aegon, Myla laughing at something a squire said and Daeron playing with Jaehaerys and Maelor.

"How was your first day with Her Grace?” he asked softly. Only for you. The question wasn’t loud enough to carry beyond your ears.You stirred your wine gently with a finger—more from habit than nerves and answered, "It was… quiet. We embroidered all afternoon, Ser" A small smile tugged at your lips as you added, "Met the new lady-in-waiting- Collena Swann." Then "You seem to be adjusting well," he said honestly.

A servant came by then with a platter of honeyed figs and offered them around. Gwayne took two: one for himself… and one which he extended toward you without asking. Your fingers reached out slowly, brushing against his as you took it. The contact was brief, just fingertips meeting but your skin tingled anyway. Gwayne watched you eat it then picked up his own and bit into it.

In the minutes to come the dinner wound down gradually. Alicent stood first- the silent signal that the meal was over. Gwayne stood too, not to leave immediately but he turned toward you and said clearly: "Would you care to walk with me? In the garden?"

The garden was quiet under the soft glow of the moonlight. You walked beside Gwayne along a stone path lined with roses. He slowed his steps. Then stopped completely beneath an archway draped in ivy and turned to face you fully and just looked at you. Without a word, or even asking permission, he leaned down