Heilir Hildar Til.

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Daeron Targaryen

The River that held a Dragon - Daeron x Tully!Reader

Only Dreams - Daeron x Reed!Reader

Humfrey Beesbury

The Rose and her Bee Part Two- Humfrey Beesbury x Tyrell!Reader

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Humfrey Hardyng

Ashford’s Victor - Humfrey Hardyng x Beesbury!Reader

Baelor Targaryen

The Night We Met - Baelor x Wife!reader

Tourney of the Heart - Lyonel x Reader x Baelor

I'm Not Jealous - Baelor x Dornish!Wife Reader

Stay With Me - Baelor x Wife!Reader

I Endure - Baelor x Tyrell! Wife Reader

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Maekar Targaryen

One little stall selling painted glass birds had caught your eye while your fellow ladies chatted amongst themselves. You had wandered only a few paces, stopping to admire how the afternoon sun caught the tiny wings.

When you turned your ladies were gone.

“So strange…” you murmured to yourself, standing on your toes to try and get a better look. There were too many people.

A fishwife shoved past you carrying two buckets. A butcher dragged a squealing pig through the crown. Merchants shouted over one another.

“Fresh bread!”

“River trout!”

“Fine Dornish silks!”

You hurried in the direction you thought your party had gone. Only to find yourself somewhere entirely different.

“…Gods.”

Your heart began to pound. Every street looked the same. The towering walls hid the Red Keep from view, and the city swallowed every landmark you’d thought you’d remembered.

You stopped beside a fountain, turning slowly. “I was just…” you whispered helplessly. “It was this way… was it not?”

A whistle echoed somewhere nearby, then shouting.

“Move aside! Gold cloaks coming through!”

The crowds parted almost immediately.

Men in dark armor trimmed with gold strode though the street with practice confidence, their golden cloaks billowing behind them.

At their head rode a broad shoulder knight atop a dark bay horse. Even seated in the saddle he looked imposing.

His armor was immaculate despite the dusty streets, polished until it caught the sunlight. A trimmed beard framed a stern face weathered by years beneath the sun, while sharp brown eyes swept over the bustling marketplace with quiet authority.

The commander. You know him at once from whispered conversations, you’d overhead since arriving.

Ser Luthor Largent. Commander of the City Watch.

He noticed you almost immediately. Perhaps because every other noblewoman hurried from the streets with their escort.

You stood completely alone.

His horse slowed and the men behind him halted without question. Ser Luthor studied you for a long moment before speaking.

“My lady.” His voice was deep and calm. “You appear rather lost.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. “I…” You attempted a smile that quickly faltered. “Perhaps only a little.”

“A little?” he questioned.

“I do know I am somewhere in King’s Landing.”

One corner of his mouth twitched upward. “That is quite the remarkable deduction, my lady.”

You couldn’t help smiling despite your embarrassment. “I became separated from my fellow ladies.”

“I gather as much.” He responded. He swings easily from his saddle. Up close he seemed even taller if that was even possible. His cloak settled heavily behind him as he approached, removing one leather glove. “You are no common merchant’s daughter.”

“No.”

“The embroidery on your gown gives you away.”

You glanced down. Your traveling gown bore your father’s sigil stitched in silver thread across your sleeves as typical of a daughter of a noble house.

“I am the daughter of Lord—”

He nodded before you finished. “I know of your house, my lady”

That surprised you, “You do?”

“Your father arrived yesterday.” He replied.

“Do you mayhaps remember every visiting lord that comes to King’s Landing?”

“I tend to make it my business.”

Of course he did. He commanded the safety of the entire city.

“You are fortunate.” He paused looking around the crowded streets. “There are worse place in Flea Bottom to lose one’s way.”

Your stomach dropped at hearing where you were. You heard the tales of Flea Bottom and were told to stay far from there. “This is Flea bottom?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You did not know?”

“I thought I was near the Street of Silk at least.” You said sheepily.

One of the Gold Cloaks behind him let out an unmistakable snort. Ser Luthor cast him a look. The man immediately found the ground suddenly fascinating. Luthor returned his attention back to you.

“The Street of Silk is several turns away.”

“…Oh.”

“You wandered quite far it seems.” He spoke.

“Yes. I noticed.”

Another faint smile touched his lips. “So, you did.”

For a moment neither of you spoke. The noise of the city rushed around you. Finally, he inclined his head. “If you permit it, my lady…”

He offered his arm to you. “I shall return you safely to your father’s apartments.”

You looked at the offered arm. At the commander standing so patiently before you. “I would be most grateful.”

Your fingers rested lightly against the leather covering his large forearm. His armor was warm from the afternoon sun.

Without another word he began guiding you through the city and up to the red keep. His men followed several paces behind.

You discovered quickly that Ser Luthor knew every inch of King’s Landing. Every alley, every shortcut, and every merchant greeted him with respectful nods. He acknowledged each with a brief inclination of his head.

“Do you know everyone?” you asked.

“Not quite everyone.”

“It certainly seems that way.”

“I know enough or who matter.”

A little boy darted between them carrying stolen apples. Before anyone else could react, Ser Luthor reached out, caught the child gently by the shoulder, removed two of the apples from beneath the boy’s tunic, and handed them back to the furious fruit seller.

He looked towards the boy giving him a stern look, “No more stealing today. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded miserably and Luthor released him from his grip. With that the child sprinted away.

You asked, “You let him go?”

“I did. He was hungry.” The fruit seller grumbled but accepted the two silver coins from the commander in exchange for a couple of the apples.

“Why did you pay for them?”

“The city is quieter when hungry boys become honest ones.” He replied.

You stared up at him with that answer. “You are kinder than your reputation lets on.”

“My reputation?” he asked.

“They say the Commander of the Gold Claoks is stern and does not falter.”

“I am.”

“But they also seem to neglect the fact that he is also generous.”

“I try not to advertise it.”

You laughed softly. His eyes flickered towards you then. It was the first time you saw genuine amusement there.

“You laugh easily, my lady.”

“I’ve always been told that is one of my better qualities.”

“I would agree.”

The words came so simply and so matter-of-factly. Yet they sent warmth rushing to your cheeks that you had hoped he did not notice.

By the time the familiar banners of the Targaryen’s came into view, servants were already searching the street in a panic.

“There she is!” you heard your father say. Your father came rushing through the courtyard before dignity could stop him. “My sweet girl!”

He pulled you into a fierce embrace. “Seven save us! We feared—”

“Do not worry. I am well, Father.” You looked toward Ser Luthor. “The Commander found me.”

Your father’s expression transformed immediately. He released you before bowing respectfully. “Ser Luthor.”

“There was no harm done to your daughter, my lord.”

“You have spared me a terror I shall never forget.” A Lord though he was, your father clasped the commander’s forearm with heartfelt gratitude. “I owe you and thank you greatly.”

“No debt exists, my lord. It was my duty to make sure she was brought back to you safely.”

“Nonsense. There most certainly does.”

Your father looked towards the keep up to where your apartments were located. “You must allow me to thank you properly.”

“There is no need.” Ser Luthor said.

Your father was not having it. “But I insist.” He smiled broadly. “You will dine with us tonight and I will not have any more disagreements about it.”

Ser Luthor hesitated, “My duties—”

Your father cut him off before he could finish. “They can survive for one evening. I will ask Prince Daemon to approve this.”

At this point you found yourself speaking to the large knight standing next to you. “I would very much like to thank you as well. Please.”

For the first time since meeting him Ser Luthor looked almost uncertain, but only for a heartbeat. Then he inclined his head.

“I would be honored.”

Dinner passed in easy conversation. Your father asked endless questions about the city and Luthor answered each patiently.

“The crime has lessened this year.”

“And the prince supports your patrols?”

“He supports results. Prince Daemon was the one who gave me this Gold Cloak and I do not try to disappoint him.”

“And the people? Do they also agree?” your father asked.

“They tend to complain less when they feel safe.”

You watched him far more than you contributed. How carefully he listened before speaking. How respectfully he addressed your father despite their different stations. How his laugh—rare though it was softened his entire face. At one point he caught you looking.

Your eyes met then. You looked away first.

Gods… how embarrassing.

That night, long after the candles had been extinguished sleep refused to come.

You laid there staring at the carved canopy above your bed. Your maid thought you restless from the fright. She was wrong. Every time you closed your eyes you saw golden cloaks sweeping through the marketplace. Brown eyes meeting yours.

“You laugh easily.”

“I would agree.”

You remembered the warmth of his arm beneath your hand. The quiet confidence that followed him like a shadow. The way everyone in the city seemed to trust him.

You smiled in the darkness. It was ridiculous, you had known the commander for scarcely half a day. And yet… The handsome commander of the Gold Cloaks had become the only thing occupying your thoughts.

Somewhere beyond your chamber window, the bells of King’s Landing rang in the late hour.

You wondered if Ser Luthor was still awake. Whether he had already returned to patrolling the streets. Whether he had already forgotten the young noblewoman who had gotten hopelessly lost amongst painted glass birds and winding alleys.

You rather hoped he had not.

The Red Keep was infinitely easier to navigate than the street of King’s Landing. That did not make it any less lonely though.

Your father had spent nearly the entire morning preparing for his audience with Queen Rhaenyra. Every ribbon upon his cloak had been straightened twice over, every word of his oath rehearsed until even you could have recited it to her.

“It should not be long,” he’d assured you.

It had nearly been two hours at this point. You had watched squires hurry through corridors carrying messages. Lords in rich velvets passed one another with carefully measured smiles. Ladies whispered behind jeweled fans while servants moved as silently as ghosts.

You had explored nearly every gallery that was open to visitors over the last few days. Admired tapestries depicting Aegon’s Conquest. Paused before narrow windows overlooking Blackwater Bay. Counted the dragons carved into the stone columns simply to pass the time.

By the time you reached one of the long galleries overlooking the inner ward, you rested your forearms upon the stone balustrade with a sigh.

“I should really have brought a book.”

Below, knights crossed the yard. Stableboys hurried after horses. Gold Cloaks entered through one of the gates.

Your attention drifted lazily across the courtyard until one familiar figure appeared.

Black armor edged with gold and a heavy golden cloak. His broad shoulders that seemed impossible to mistake. Ser Luthor.

Your heart gave an entirely unreasonable leap. He crossed the courtyard with purposeful strides, disappearing through one of the council entrances.

“He’s here…” You smiled to yourself before quickly looking away, as though someone might accuse you of staring.

It had been four days since you saw him last. Four days since he’d escorted you safely back to your family. Four days of finding entirely too many excuses to wonder what the commander of the Gold Cloaks might be doing.

You wondered whether he remembered you at all. Surely, he met dozens of noble ladies. Surely you had been nothing more than another duty for him.

You sighed softly, “Foolish girl.”

Not terribly far away, Ser Luthor emerged from a chamber, the heavy oak door closing behind him. His conversation with Prince Daemon had been…productive.

Daemon has wanted additional patrols around the harbors after rumors of the greens coming in by ships. Luthor had given his reports. The prince had argued and Luthor argued right back.

The meeting had ended precisely as most conversations with Daemon did—with mutual respect from decades of friendship that was hidden beneath sharp words.

He rolled one shoulder as he walked the corridors. Then he slowed.

Something made him glance toward the gallery above. A familiar laugh, one that was soft and warm. His eyes lifted to the sound.

There you stood near the balustrade, sunlight spilling through the tall windows behind you. You were the vision of the Maiden herself, he thought to himself.

You were looking out over the courtyard completely unaware he’d seen you. For reasons he couldn’t entirely explain and yet his feet changed direction.

You had nearly convinced yourself to continue wandering when a familiar voice sounded behind you.

“My lady.”

You turned so quickly your skirts swirled around your ankles.

“…Ser Luthor?”

He inclined his head. “It is good to see you again, my lady.”

“And you!”

Gods. Was that too eager? Judging by the faint smile that touched his lips…perhaps not.

“I trust you’ve managed to avoid becoming lost again?”

You laughed then. “Sadly, I have remained entirely within the Keep to avoid such things.”

“A wise precaution.” He said with a smirk.

“I thought it would be.”

For a moment neither of you spoke. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but merely quiet.

“I hope,” he said at last, “That your stay has been pleasant.”

You nodded, “It has.” But then you hesitated. “Although I confess I have grown rather bored as of late.”

He looked a bit confused by that. “Bored?”

“My father has attended meetings nearly every day.”

“The affairs of lands and kingdoms are rarely exciting for those waiting outside of the room.”

You realized you nodded in agreement a bit too quickly. You tried to change the subject hoping you haven’t proved yourself boring to him as well.

So, you blurted out, “I’ve begun naming the ravens.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “You’ve named the ravens?”

“Yes. There are six I see most often lately.”

You two slowly began to walk down the hallway relishing in each other’s company.

“I should like to know what you named them.”

You wrung your hands together before you spoke, “Well there is Lord Peck.”

Ser Luthor blinked. “…Lord Peck?”

“Yes. He is the one who seems to carry himself most importantly. There is also Lady Feather. She is a very distinguished bird.” You couldn’t help but giggle then. You drew another rare smile from him.

“You truly do laugh easily.” He spoke.

“You remembered.”

“I remember many things. Especially the sound of a lovely lady’s laugh.”

The words settled warmly inside your chest.

He looked toward one of the open archways leading outside. “Have you had a chance to visit the gardens?”

“No, I have not actually.”

His gaze returned to yours then. “If it would please you?”

He offered his arm once more. “I could show them to you.”

Your answer came before propriety had the chance to interfere. “I would like that very much.”

The gardens were unlike anything in your father’s lands. Stone pathways wound through flowering hedges. Roses climbed up white trellises. Lavendar swayed in the breeze while bees drifted lazily from blossom to blossoms. Somewhere nearby water trickled from a marble fountain.

“It is beautiful.”

“Many princesses from prior years favored this place.” Ser Luthor said.

“I can understand why. I would too if I had a garden like this.”

You both walked side by side beneath flowering trees. Neither of you felt rushed to fill the silence. It surprised you how comfortable the quiet could be when enjoying someone’s company.

Eventually curiosity won.

“May I ask you something?” you asked.

“You may.”

“Were you always commander or did it take years for you to get to?”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “No. I have only been commander over the last few years.”

“Huh. I cannot imagine anyone else doing it.” You admitted.

“I began as any other gold cloak, but I have the pleasure of having Prince Daemon to be the one to give me this cloak nearly twenty years ago.”

“I’m sure that was an imposing sight a younger you with Prince Daemon.”

“One could say that. I was also considerably less patient then.”

“I find that difficult to believe.” You jested.

“I assure you, it is true.” He spoke.

“Well, you are patient now.”

“So, I’ve been told.”

“By everyone?” you asked.

He looked sideways at you.

“Only by one lady in particular.”

Heat blossomed across your cheeks hoping he was meaning you. You lowered your eyes with a smile trying not to make it obvious.

The gardens eventually gave way to a stone overlook. The wall overlooked the cliffs below. Far beneath, waves crashed against black rocks. Beyond stretched Blackwater Bay, glittering beneath the afternoon sun. Ships dotted the horizon with various colored sails.

The sea breeze tugged gently at your hair.

“It feels…” you searched for the words. “Peaceful here.”

“It is.” He agreed.

You rested your hands upon the weathered stone. “I think this may be my favorite place in King’s Landing.”

“It is mine as well when I can get the chance to see it.”

You looked up to him. “Do you come here often then?”

“Not usually. Being commander, I do have more time to patrol all over King’s Landing. So, whenever I get a chance to come see the gardens I try to. Just for a few moments of quiet. King’s Landing truly never sleeps.”

For several moments you simply watched the sea together. Then, quietly you gave yourself enough courage to finally admit your thoughts.

“There is something I’ve wished to tell you, Ser Luthor.”

He turned towards you. His brown eyes are fixated on you now. “What would that be?”

You swallowed. “I fear it may sound terribly foolish, but I believe I must get this off my chest.”

“I do not think it would be possible for you to sound foolish.”

You laughed nervously while wringing your hands together. “I’ve scarcely stopped thinking about you.” You blurted out.

There was a long stretch of silence between you two.

Gods. Perhaps you should not have said it, but you only continued. “I know we have met only briefly.”

Your words tumbled over one another again. “And perhaps it is terribly improper and perhaps I ought not say such things. But after you found me and after dinner and now seeing you again…”

You looked down at your hands. “I simply wished you to know how grateful I am.”

Before you could continue, he broke the silence. “You’ve been thinking of me?”

You nodded once right away. “I have.”

A long silence followed this time. It wasn’t awkward or uncertain. Only thoughtful.

When he finally spoke, “I had hoped I was not alone in my feelings.”

You looked up quickly. Almost shocked that he said that. “What?”

“I’ve though of little else these past four days.” He admitted.

Your breath caught. “You have?” you asked taken aback.

“I have found myself wondering whether you had returned back to your home.” He smiled faintly. “And whether you’d become lost again.”

You laughed through your surprised “I have not thankfully.”

“I wondered whether I’d imagine how easily conversation came between us and I wondered whether inviting you to see the gardens today was inappropriate.”

“I am glad you invited me.” You said with a smile on your face.

“So am I.”

The breeze stirred between you. He took one step closer as if the breeze was pushing him towards you. It was close enough that you could see the flecks of gold hidden in his brown eyes.

“I am no prince,” he said quietly to you.

“I know.”

“Nor am I some great lord and my life belongs largely to this city.” He added.

“I know it is.” You said reassuringly.

“And still…” his gazed searched yours hoping it would reveal what he was looking for. “You’ve occupied my thoughts from the moment we parted.”

Your heart felt impossibly light now.

“So we have both been equally distracted.” You quipped.

“It would seem so.” He agreed.

For a moment neither of you moved and then very gently he lifted one hand. Not to seize yours, but only to brush a loose strand of hair back behind your ear that the wind took. His fingers barely grazed your skin.

“If this is unwelcome, my lady you must only say.” He said comfortingly.

“It isn’t.”

His eyes searched yours one last time. Giving you every opportunity to step away.

You didn’t. Instead, you closed the small distance left between you. You stood on your tiptoes to reach up to his face and as he leaned down, he kissed you and it had been impossibly soft. Barely more than a brush of his lips against yours.

When he drew back, you found yourself smiling before you even realized it.

“So…” you whispered.

“So.”

“I believe,” your smile widened. ‘I shall be thinking of you even more now Ser Luthor.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. “I am afraid the feeling is mutual my lady.”

Behind you, the sea continued its endless song against the cliffs, and for the first time since arriving in King’s Landing, the great city no longer felt quite so overwhelming.