#daynegang

The feast had yet to end - and the early whispers were that Lord Whent’s tourney was to be the greatest ever - sung for a thousand years by generations that watched the greatest warriors in the kingdom show their might before the grace of their king. The lengths into which the Lord of Harrenhall came to prepare his generosity would spare no expense, and the knight would watch massive plates of beef and boar to be brought out beneath barrels of wine aged in the cellars beneath the castle. The Lord of the North and Storm’s End could tend to their drink - Arthur had never the taste for it. Long tables set in the heart of the Great Hall would seat the largest gathering of nobles the knight had ever seen - and yet quiet he remained through the meal. 

A cautious glance kept towards his grace - unkempt strands of snow white hair fell bedraggled across his shoulders as he weakly kept to his cup. Shifting eyes glanced for traitors and assassins. King Aerys had reluctantly agreed to his attendance, and his demeanor showed his lack of comfort in his seat away from the Red Keep’s walls. Arthur suspected the Spider in his cunning having convinced the King’s arrival - it would explain the absence of his Lord Hand. The knight tried to shake his mind from the sight - he’d hated pondering politics, even more so during a feast. It remained difficult, however, to watch his charge mutter empty threats to himself as the room filled with laughter and song, and Arthur would excuse himself from his seat to keep his mind from it. There was enough as is to keep him busy. 

Even in the presence of these Lords and Ladies, Arthur kept his cuirass with the emblem of the King’s dragon emblazoned upon his chest. Cumbersome as it may be, it would be a disservice to all those who attended for the Kingsguard to improperly show themselves in such a setting. As heavy boots stepped at chamber’s edge, violets would observe the opening night’s festivities. Tankards clanging together in joyous harmony, flutes giving rising notes to those who would take to the center in dance. Among the many seats at a length of timber would hold the Prince of Dorne, and at table’s end she sat as he had always known her.

He wished every day for the opportunity to return home, but her sight had always eased him. Knots in his chest beneath plated armor felt easier with each approaching footfall, and he would soon find his seat next to his sister - a flowering young woman that would shine in this sea of nobility. 

“Ashara,” A stern look soon playfully melting away as Arthur took his seat beside his sister - hoping she wouldn’t see the worry in his matching amethyst hues. Cheers and singing filled the air around them, but between the Daynes there was a comfort that the sword of the morning hadn’t felt since he’d left Starfall to fulfill his oath to King and Gods. “This table is not fitting for a beauty such as yourself,” A jest from older sibling, violets turning around the room to watch the crowds spinning and laughing, drinking and dancing. Such joy in this world was difficult to find. “You should be enjoying yourself,”

A brother’s protective watch as the eyes of the wolf descended upon her - a nervous smile from the young Eddard Stark before his gaze quickly averted. The boy thought himself clever with admiration from afar. A nodding gaze would lead his sister in his direction. 

“You could fare much worse than he, my dear sister...” Arthur couldn’t bare to hold his smirking expression any longer, and he made sure that she could see his glee. It had been so long.