#Arthur dayne imagine

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Arthur Dayne: Physical description and NSFW Alphabet edition

After the Arthur Dayne requests I received, I was sorely tempted to write up a full NSFW alphabet that could be used for future fics, so here it is, along with a brief physical description of him.

Themes: Smut

Warning: This post contains a wide variety of mature and explicit content (sex, positions, kinks, cum, etc.) | Mention of scars

Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

A/n: I write with the seasons of Westeros stretching over the usual three months per season, not years and years. Sorry not sorry, GRRM.

What does Arthur Dayne look like?

Arthur was born in the spring of 240 AC. He stands at 6’3, with a muscular frame to go with it. His skin is like the burnished gold sands of Dorne. Like his sister, Ashara, Arthur has rich, earthy brown hair and purple eyes, although his is pale, like lilacs. As a knight and a disciplined warrior, Arthur keeps his hair cropped short, just like his beard. Due to his long life as a warrior, Arthur’s body is covered in the scars of old wounds.

What is he like as a lover? Gentle, considerate and tender. As for the rest?

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Arthur is big on pampering, like cuddles, words of endearment, and acts of service, such as bringing his partner a meal, a glass of water, or their favorite drink, or drawing a warm bath whenever possible.   

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) : On his partner’s, he loves their lips because he loves to kiss. Arthur rarely gets the chance to do so due to his being a knight of the King’s Guard. Discovery is dangerous, so as soon as an opportune moment presents itself, expect him to pull them into his embrace while he showers them with deep, soulful kisses.

For him, Arthur’s favorite body part is his arms. All the better to lift his love with, is his motto. The feel of his partner running their hands all over his arms while telling him how wonderfully strong he is, is intoxicating to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): Arthur Dayne is very much into finishing inside his partner, every single time. Nothing less would do for him. And there is no need to worry about unexpected epilogues. Arthur makes sure his partner has easy access to freshly prepared moon tea.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): Arthur has one fantasy, and one fantasy only. To make love to his partner in the Round Room of the Sword Tower, and on top of the White Shield Table, no less.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): Despite being a sworn brother of the King’s Guard, Arthur still has plenty of experience, for he did not take up orders until he was twenty two.

He certainly knows what he is doing and is not afraid to put his experience, his hands and his tongue, to good use.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): On top, where he could look at his partner during the act, touch them all over, and kiss them. Or from behind, where he can still maintain control and set the pace.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): Arthur is very much a serious lover. The act of making love is precious to him, not something to be made light of. If he does make a joke, it would only be because it is his partner’s first time with him, and he wants them to be comfortable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): Arthur is well groomed, and takes good care of himself. He doesn’t have an excess of body hair, but there is a soft trail of dark brown hair trailing down his chest, ending in a similar colored thatch between his thighs.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): He is big on romance, setting the right scene, kissing, and taking his time to please his partner with lots of foreplay. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): Masturbation has little appeal, for he prefers the warmth of his partner’s body to the use of his hand. If he cannot find a partner, or if his partner is occupied elsewhere, Arthur will be content to wait.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): Arthur has little in the way of kinks. He is into slow and gentle lovemaking, but he will take his partner’s kinks into consideration, such as using blindfolds or feathers.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): The bedroom, naturally. Something about soft sheets and a softer bed, with wide windows letting in a cooling wind, appeals to him more than any other location.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): The sounds of his partner’s moans, the feel of them trembling against him, their urging to go harder and faster, always warms his blood fast.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Anything that can inflict pain of any kind on his partner. Hurting his partner, even to give them pleasure, is a huge turn-off for him, so his partner can expect to hear him saying no to requests such as spanking.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) : Arthur loves to give. He would spend all day between his partner’s legs if time and his duties permitted him to do so. He plants broad strokes with the flat of his tongue, sometimes slipping a finger or two into his partner’s hole while he goes down on them.

He loves to receive as well, often showering his partner with praise on how well they take him and how good their mouth is around his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): When it comes to pace, Arthur is on the slow and sensual side. He wants to make the most of his time with his partner, to explore their body, to savor every moment he has with them.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): Arthur has little interest in quickies, as he is a man who wants to take his time. He may be tempted into saying yes if his partner succeeds in appealing to his baser urges.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): Besides the yearning to take his partner over the White Shield Table in the Round room? Very little in the terms of risks and experimenting.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): Given how strong he is as a warrior, Arthur could go on for most of the night if he could. And it would be one marathon session that would leave his partner weak and exhausted by the end of it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): He does not own toys, but he may consider using something like a silk blindfold or feathers if his partner asks to.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): Arthur does not believe in denying his partner, except when they are being bratty. Then he will just deny them sex until they show they know how to behave.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): Arthur is on the quieter side. Soft grunts or groans are what his partner will hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Arthur once kissed his partner during the great tourney of 276 AC, and in his tent, when he came to rest before the final joust.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): He is decently proportioned, at around six inches. His cock is thick and veiny and more than a little sensitive. The right touch is enough to make him hard.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): Arthur has an average sex drive, and would never press his partner if they were not in the mood. Even kissing and cuddling are enough to satisfy him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward): He tends to fall asleep pretty fast, as he has to rise early and see to his duties. He will still hold his partner close to him while he rests and will wake them so he can give them a proper goodbye before he has to sneak back to the Red Keep.

[ode-to-fury]

Some incredible drawings of our bloodthirsty dornish boy submitted by the extremely talented @mineswine, thank you so much!!

[carlsdraws]

hotd season 2 needs to give me more gwayne hightower. you can’t just dangle a knight named GWAYNE in front of me episode one and never mention him again. he’s literally a hightower!!!! they’re GREEN

[tweedstoat]

What are your thoughts on the theory about house Dayne perhaps knowing about Rhaegar’s actions and helping him by providing the toj?

I mean anything is possible cause we know next to nothing about what was happening back then with the daynes or rhaegar aside from how things ended up and there are many interpretations that can be made. I think its pretty possible considering the ToJ, Arthur helping out Rhaegar and guarding Lyanna, and wylla being Jon Snows wet nurse.

But whew if they willingly helped out rhaegar and threw their lot in with him no WONDER the dornish would ostracise them.

[visenyaism]

feastdance dashboard simulator

💋queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

it’s so sick that people keep criticizing queen cersei as if she’s not the first female ruler of westeros??? literally elevating bastards and women to her small council is super fucking progressive as is creating the precedent of dismissing unfit kingsguard??

🪨dragonstoner Follow

aren’t all of her children literally bastards born of incest

💋 queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

oh so now you’re going to listen to stannis baratheon, known misogynist, kinslayer, fornicator, team green supporter, and homophobe, huh.

🦑pykedyke

okay guys i know there’s no “perfect candidate” but you have to vote in the kingsmoot anyways not voting is how someone like e****n g*****y wins and literally anyone is better than him. suck it up and row to the polls

🦈reaveherihardlyknowher

ohhhh not this “vote your crew no matter who” “blue lips man bad” bullshit again. fuck off idgaf which godless man sits the seastone chair i’m not voting for asha shes literally a neoliberal

🦷 lastoftheegiants

first i had to give up my rights and then i had to give up my gods just to not get killed by fucking wights but i literally cannot believe the nights watch made me give up my strap as part of the treasure ransom. shit was expensive it was IVORY. i hate southerners so much i hope the lord commander dies

🌪️kinslayerr

DO NOT COME TO THE RIVERLANDS

🍓silverspurs Follow

why

🌪️kinslayerr

there’s riverlands here

🧜‍♂️theythemderly

freys

🌾maidencool

my cousin got eaten by rats in harrenhal

🐎brackennation Follow

dumb cunts wearing raven feather cloaks strutting around who think they’re better than you but they’re not better than you

🌟sevenstar

i saw a guy get killed and then just stand back up and start fighting again because his friend kissed him on the mouth down here once

🦌whitehart

giant feral pack of 60 wolves running around

🍓silverspurs Follow

ok understandable have a nice day

🫧bastardwaters

i hate the fucking sparrows can we be normal for five minutes or can we just not have shit in the crownlands

☠️real-stormlands-patriot Follow

ITS LORD COMMANDOVER #RIPBOZO

🐦‍⬛mormonts-raven-bot Follow

CORN! DEATH! CORN!

(CAW! I follow members of the Night's Watch to remind them of their oaths!)

🦷 lastoftheegiants

????

🍋floriansjonquil

Loras Tyrell x Queen of Love and Beauty!Reader Imagines

Keep Reading

🪻maidens-smile Follow

girl this is notttttt the time he literally just fucking died at dragonstone?

💎oathkeeper

should’ve stanned jaime #LORASFELLOFF

💐flowerknight

one kill yourself jaime lannister is an honorless kingslaying turncloak two i heard loras tyrell was literally fine?

👊fleabottomtop

lord davos seaworth, the class traitor from the stannis baratheon administration, is a nasty little thottie and just died from making it clap in white harbor

🌅girlheir

this tower fucking sucks.

🌅girlheir

i’m just like rhaenyra targaryen for real

🌅girlheir

🐀ratcook5000 Follow

people meat tastes good asf when you don’t have a wench in your ear saying it violates guest right

🐺threeeyedwolf

🍒ladylance

need that targ girl in mereen to get those lizards over here and liberate this website by any means necessary cause what the fuck is going on

[melrosing]

MBO Robert's Rebellion: Episode 10

sorry for the accidental seven month hiatus 2023 has been foul but we are back. rounding off “season 1” with Harrenhal, then I’m gonna take some time to finish mapping out what the second half of the series looks like. but have done most of that already so shouldn’t be too long?? (famous last words)

btw this one feels like the longest I’ve written so let’s just imagine it’s a movie length finale or something idk

SEASON ONE: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6, Episode 7, Episode 8, Episode 9

SEASON TWO: Episode 1

title for this one: watch this age like milk when the harrenhal play reaches the stage

We find a slight, almost sickly looking young man in a green cloak, stepping delicately around the roots of a woodland - he looks a bit lost. Suddenly the sound of hooves as a young girl races through the trees crying with laughter, followed shortly by her three brothers, all ahorse. Seeing the young man on foot, the girl circles back and asks if he’s looking for the tourney of Harrenhal; the young man says that he is, but he’s lost his way. Brandon Stark, joining them, notes that this is Howland Reed, of a house sworn to House Stark - he should join their train. On cue the vast Stark train emerges through the trees

Panning through the trees, we now overlook a valley in which vast numbers can be seen travelling towards an immense castle in the distance. Howland how the fuck did you miss that 

Opening creds

Aerys in his covered litter, travels through the gates of Harrenhal; Varys sits opposite him, watching passersby with interest. They hadn’t thought he’d come, Aerys tells Varys, but Rhaegar isn’t king yet, so why should he take the limelight etc. Varys agrees, noting it’s conspicuous that Lord Whent should have such vast sums as to host a tourney such as this - and leaves the rest to Aerys’ imagination. Varys then notes the absence of Tywin Lannister, who spurned the tourney that would invest Jaime into the Kingsguard; Aerys notes he has his eye on Tywin, too

Aerys steps out of his litter to applause from the assembled lords and ladies. He scrutinises them all. Rhaegar emerges shortly afterwards on horseback, and the cheers are twice as loud. Behind him, Ser Lewyn Martell helps Elia from a litter, shortly joined by Rhaegar; Rhaegar enquires after Elia first, then the baby - she is with child again, but it seems to be taking a toll. Oberyn Martell rides up to scowl at Rhaegar and take his sister’s arm

In Lyanna’s room at Harrenhal, where we find her elbowing Benjen out the door. As soon as she’s alone, she pulls a chest from under her bed, opening it to reveal a sword and armour. She picks up the helmet and considers it

A feast @ Harrenhal. Elia has taken to bed after her travels, so Rhaegar attends alone. He’s got his harp out again and sings a sad, slow song (does he know any others lol). Lyanna, sat at a nearby bench, weeps to hear it - it seems to strike her more than anyone in the room, though even she seems unsure why. Rhaegar looks up and meets her eyes. Just as they do so, Benjen Stark starts cackling at Lyanna’s tears, and Lyanna upends a flagon over his head

DANCING 🕺🏼 💃🏻 Ashara Dayne sits talking to her brother Arthur, whilst Ned looks on wistfully. Refusing Brandon’s urges to ask her to dance, Brandon decides to ask Ashara on his behalf and some spark passes between them etc etc it’s like that scene from Hamilton in which Ashara Dayne is founding father Alexander Hamilton. from now on please picture Lin Manuel Miranda as Ashara Dayne

Ashara, smiling at Brandon’s request, agrees to dance with Ned, and talks sweetly to him as they turn about the floor; however, it does not escape Ned that Ashara’s gaze often fixes on Brandon :/

Aerys with Barristan Selmy, watching the floor. He asks Barristan what he thinks of Jaime Lannister, soon to be a brother of the Kingsguard. Barristan thinks Jaime’s too young and naïve for such duty - and this boy does not look to him like a young Tywin Lannister. Unfortunately that was exactly what Aerys wanted to hear so you fucked that up Barry

Meanwhile, Elia sits with her brother Oberyn, unable to manage much food. Oberyn, worried, says he’ll fetch Rhaegar. Elia says there’s little point: the prince is always so distracted of late, hardly seems to see what’s right in front of him. Oberyn looks furious, and Elia, regretting she said anything, says there’s little and less she wants of Rhaegar - he plays for Rhaenys sometimes, but he’s no comfort to her, and she suspects she’s little to him. Whatever is going through that guy’s head, Elia can never coax him to share it. Elia tells Oberyn that he, on the other hand, is plenty of comfort to her, and should tell her something to make her laugh

Jaime gets his main character moment; Aerys summons him to the front of the hall. Jaime has accumulated some misgivings about this whole venture in recent weeks, but they fall away as he approaches the Kingsguard. Arthur Dayne watches on, expression inscrutable. Gerold Hightower swears Jaime in, and there’s a big ole cheer: Jaime beams, and for a moment he feels like a hero. Aerys beams as well until the crowd starts chanting ‘the young lion’. Well shit he’s just invested Tywin Lannister’s son hasn’t he. Aerys exits the hall and gnawing at his fucked up fingernails with Varys watching on

Drinking outside Harrenhal; Howland Reed is wandering about trying to find a meal. Three squires approach him angling for a fight, and begin to deliver blows when Howland won’t rise to the occasion. THEN! The Starks arrive led by Lyanna, who tackles the squires herself. The squires flee and Lyanna declares that Howland should stay in their quarters

Meanwhile, the King summons Jaime. Jaime arrives looking buzzed from all the attention and adulation, but Aerys looks less than pleased. Aerys asks Jaime to swear again he would die for his king, will he always obey? Jaime, perturbed, agrees he would. Aerys looks unconvinced, and after a moment, orders Jaime to King’s Landing to watch over Rhaella and Viserys. Jaime attempts to argue, but Aerys demands again that Jaime swear he would always obey. Jaime is forced to swear again, and abandon the tourney. Aerys tells Ser Gerold Hightower he doesn’t like the look of insolence in the boy’s eyes. Ser Gerold says he’s only a kid, and anyway he’d be happy to trade places with Jaime?? Aerys declines, wishes to teach Tywin Lannister’s son the humility his father never knew

In the Starks’ quarters with Howland. Lyanna inexpertly wraps a bandage about Howland’s injured arm; Benjen tells her she’s doing a shit job, Lyanna challenges him to do better. Brandon tells Howland he ought to learn to defend himself, and Lyanna tells him not everyone can - that’s what knights are for. Brandon tells Howland that Lyanna fancies herself a knight: Ned adds she might be better at swordplay than Brandon himself. Brandon seems surprised at this minor insolence from Ned of all people. Ofc, Ned is still smarting at what he saw between Brandon and Ashara

Jaime Lannister riding alone down the dark Kingsroad, looking more like a hedge knight than a member of the kingsguard. Reduced to angry tears, he shouts out into the dark in rage

NEXT MORNING! Tourney scenes!! Like that S1E1 joust scene from HOTD except without the ridiculous levels of gore lmao. We find Robert in the stands, still flushed from his own jousts, sat beside the Stark men. Robert has his Estermont cousin on his other arm, but asks Ned where he might find Lyanna. Ned says they’ve not seen their sister since the night before. Robert says they ought to keep an eye on his betrothed with so many men about; Richard Lonmouth, Robert’s drinking partner (yeah I forgot this guy existed too), leans over to suggest it’s Brandon they might keep an eye on instead - word’s got around he’d been wandering about the castle last night… Ned looks to Brandon, and Brandon won’t look back

Suddenly, some murmuring: a mystery knight has arrived!! Their armour is mismatched, sporting a weirwood tree, and they’re on the short side: a few laughs. Ned chews his lip - we can see right away that he knows who this is, and now we know too. Tense moment as the Knight of the Laughing Tree jousts, surprise (and Ned’s sheer relief) as they win almost effortlessly. Richard Lonmouth says he’ll place a bet on the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s next joust, Robert decides to bet against him 

Some kind of montage of the KOTLT’s various jousts. At one point, they’re almost knocked from their horse, and they cry out. Ned jolts in panic, and Rhaegar’s head swings up - has he clocked who this is as well??? KOTLT recovers, and wins the joust. Aerys looking on, perturbed - has Tywin’s son returned is mismatched armour to spite him? Ser Gerold is sure that Ser Jaime is taller, but Aerys is already full on pizzagate on this notion, wants to seize KOTLT. Varys, at his side, advises he does not - look how pleased everyone is by this mystery knight. Not great PR for the crown to just grab the guy

Final joust. The Knight of the Laughing Tree demands to joust one of the champions of the previous day, i.e. one of Howland’s tormentors. Suitable tension etc, and the KOTLT wins comfortably. Robert groans, now deep in debt to Richard Lonmouth. The commons doing some kind of Masked Singer chant for the KOTLT to de-mask. Robert is descending the steps insisting he’ll do it himself. Ned panics, trying to grab his arm, when suddenly!!! Rhaegar stands up in the royal box (or whatever idk) to say something about tonight’s feast or whatever, and amidst the distraction, the KOTLT darts off behind the stands

It’s night. Lyanna has ridden into the woods, and removes the last of her KOTLT armour beneath the trees, grinning to herself. Then: cliché twig snap in the background someone’s followed her oh no!! Lyanna draws her sword - whoever it is has seen how she can fight, so she advises they don’t try her. Rhaegar emerges, and agrees that he has - though he’d be eager to see if they were a match for one another some other day. He notes that she’s the Stark girl; Lyanna says she’s not. Rhaegar laughs - it’s the first time we’ve seen him do so. Lyanna frowns and says she knows who he is. Rhaegar says he supposes no introductions are necessary then

Back at Harrenhal: another fuckin dance. Robert wants to ask Lyanna for a dance, but Ned has no idea where she is - he’s worried now, and suggests to Brandon they ought to go look for her. Brandon seems to be searching for someone else, agrees he’ll come look for Lyanna later. Meanwhile, Aerys is looking for his goddamn son where is that freaky kid. Robert meanwhile grabs at a serving woman

Back with Lyanna and Rhaegar. Lyanna wants to know why Rhaegar followed her. Rhaegar says she heard his song. Lyanna says everyone heard his stupid song. Rhaegar says no, you heard it. Lyanna like right ok whatever that’s supposed to mean. But she’s intrigued. She changes the subject, says she understands he fights well - why don’t they test each other now? Rhaegar tells her he didn’t bring a sword. Lyanna says that was stupid. Long look between them, sizing each other up

Quiet scenes over Harrenhal….. cut to Brandon and Ned in the halls of the Stark quarters preparing to raise the alarm for their missing sister. Perfect timing, Lyanna’s back whey. Brandon demands to know where she’s been. Lyanna says walking. Brandon scolds her, reminding her that a young woman should not be wandering in the dark unaccounted for!! Lyanna counters ‘and supposedly it’s fine for you to do the same?’, storms off to her room. oooo

Rhaegar returns to his room with Elia. She has not slept, and sits at the window reading. She does not ask him where he’s been. After a long period of silence, Rhaegar asks if she is well, and Elia answers monotonously that she is fine. Rhaegar asks after the child. Elia doesn't answer

FOLLOWING AFTERNOON: final joust!! Rhaegar jousts Arthur Dayne, and it’s suitably tense. Imagine a joust in ur head i’m not gonna write it. Ashara Dayne has joined the Starks in the stands, and cries for her brother’s victory. Brandon laughs and drinks to that. Lyanna looks tense, and Ned looks at her questioningly. Ofc Rhaegar ultimately wins, and Lyanna jumps for joy. Benjen tries to rib her, but she’s not paying attention this time. Applause is deafening all around them

Aerys spitting in the stands. This tourney was Rhaegar’s idea, he knows it, he’ll get to the bottom of it etc - no-one is listening.

Rhaegar is named the winner back on the ground to great applause, and is presented with a crown for his Queen of Love & Beauty. He stares at it for a long moment, like he’s unsure what to do w it

We find Elia in the stands, waiting for Rhaegar to turn to her with the crown. But Rhaegar seems to be searching the stands for someone else. Confused, Elia rises shakily to her feet to draw his attention (surely he knows where to find her).... just as Rhaegar finds the Stark girl in the audience. The crowd’s cheers go quiet, and Oberyn rises to stand beside Elia. Men have risen around Lyanna as well, daring Rhaegar to do what he seems about to

Rhaegar offers Lyanna the crown on the point of his joust, and Lyanna, looking flabbergasted, takes it in her hands

season one done we did it joe

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Tender Tragedy

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: death

Words:2601

Day winding down to night, Dany took her intimate party on to her personal balcony where an iron pit sat at the center. Surrounding her great pyramid were small specks of orange light. Each one belonged to a family getting ready for slumber. Not Daenerys and her court. Their work tend to bleed into the late hours of the night. There was much work to be done in Meereen.

“Your grace.” Ser Barristan Selmy, a newly added member, holds out a jewel studded goblet to his queen.

Dany eyes the extravagance of the cup as she takes it graciously from the old knight’s hand. Growing up, such decadence was scarce for the once crown prince and princess. Viserys often complained that had Robert not started his rebellion, they would still have the Targaryen wealth that was owed to them.

Alas, Viserys’ own vanity was to be his doom. Now only Dany basked in such exquisite items. 

Taking a sip of the sweet wine she had been given, Daenerys can’t resist thinking on her other siblings; those long dead. She’d had Rhaegar, her older brother, and an older sister, (y/n). 

Rhaegar, the whole of the rebellion being his fault, of course had to die in order to restore order in the seven kingdoms along with the death of Aerys. That was a certainty that Dany had slowly come to acknowledge. She didn’t want to think that any fault lay on her family, but there were so many facts she couldn’t ignore. Targaryens were to blame for everything.

One thing she still couldn’t wrap her head around was why her eldest sister had to die as well. No one explained to Dany the ultimate fate of (y/n). Those like Jorah and Selmy who knew kept her in the dark. 

Turning back to Selmy, she watches as he seats himself in front of the fire that gently warmed his aging joints. Jorah was next to him, speaking quietly with Grey Worm who preferred to stand at attention in case his blade was needed. 

For a moment, Dany imagines how the guiding hand of a gentle, older sister might have changed her life instead of growing up with Viserys’ cruel tendencies. She grieves for what could have been. 

“What happened to (y/n)?”

Her inquiry has Grey Worm and Jorah ceasing their conversation all together. Even the introspective gaze that Missandei had while listening to them had evaporated.

Selmy sadly stares at his hands. He always became melancholic when the subject of (y/n) was brought up. “I don’t think right now’s the time for that. . .”

“Then when will be? No one talks about her. Why am I not to know about her, my only sister?” Her tone of authority has them averting their gaze from her drilling eyes. Must she be stuck with the knowledge that her elder brother Rhaegar died because of the accusation of rape and knowing Viserys was a monster in his own right much like their father? Were there truly no good members of House Targaryen that were worthy of life?

Pondering for a second, Selmy heaves out a weary sigh. “It is not a happy story. Many do not want to recall what happened to your sister because she was much loved and her death devastated every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. As if enough blood hadn’t been shed already.”

“It was utterly pointless.” Jorah murmurs, his own eyes glossing over. Dany had pestered him before about (y/n), any bit of information, but Jorah stood his ground and never uttered a peep about the elder Targaryen daughter. 

Quietly, Daenerys trails over to them and sits on the other side of Selmy. “What was she like? I just want to get an idea of who she is.”

That was an easier question to answer.

Light came back into Selmy’s eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch upward into a smile. “She was goodness incarnate, Your Grace. Much like yourself. And beautiful. (y/n) did much to help those suffering in the slums of King’s Landing. Was always trying to make things better and was an excellent problem solver. She was a burst of life in the Red Keep. Everyone thrived in her presence.”

So why was she too a casualty of the rebellion. Dany would tread lightly to that question. “Did she ever marry? She was very close to Rhaegar in age, right?” She’d be at the perfect age where young ladies were often pawned off to other influential families. Even Daenerys had been married to Khal Drogo when she was just ten and three.

Jorah chuckles at that. “Oh many tried. She was considered the perfect match. Constantly being hounded by old and young lords alike. Marrying her off though had never been Aerys’ top priority when his mind started to rot.”

“He never thought of marrying (y/n) to Rhaegar?” It was Valyrian tradition to wed one sibling to the other. Many generations of the Targaryens had kept the practice alive despite the negative views the Sept had toward it. 

“It had been discussed.” Selmy admits. “Maybe if he had done that to begin with, we could have avoided war. But. . . (y/n) had already pledged her love to someone else.”

**

Ser Arthur carefully scans his surroundings in the hallway to make sure no one saw or followed him to the destined rendezvous point. When he seemed to be completely by himself, he closed the door and turned to face you. Patiently awaiting him on the foot of the bed with a wide grin.

He’d mentioned many times how he’d never, in a million years, get used to the sight of your smile  and the way it illuminated your lavender eyes. Beacons that entangle Arthur in a trap he had no plan to escape from.

You stand and dissolve the small distance between you in a blink of an eye. Your hands, soft and smelling of the sweetness of spring, grab his cheeks to pull him down to your starving lips.

Arthur was all too ready to comply.

**

“She was in love with the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne.” He remembers Ser Arthur with the utmost fondness, but their relationship had been doomed from the very start. Selmy had been there when Arthur was sworn into the Kingsguard. Even by then the boy was completely enraptured by Princess (y/n). 

Dany, listening intently, originally this of this as a perfect story from some old fairytale . A princess and her lover knight, a classic. But (y/n)’s story did not end happily ever after.

Missandei holds Dany’s hand. She too had a sense of where this kind of story was going. 

“So great was their affections for one another, it was quite obvious to everyone around them. During tourneys, Arthur would ask for her favor. The dances before the war, they would dance with each other. When war finally broke out, we found (y/n)’s chambers empty. Arthur, before joining Rhaegar’s forces, spirited the princess out of the Keep.”

*

You jolt to a stop as Arthur held out an arm to stop you from advancing. You’d been crawling along the shadows in the corridors of the Keep as Arthur led you hall after hall to evade any guards. Like hell he’d leave you behind. What he was doing was punishable by death but he didn’t care. 

Thinking the coast had been clear, you’d almost gone around the corner but Arthur’s better trained ears heard someone coming. 

He holds you close to his side so that your cheek was pressed against his armor and you were partially hidden under his cloak. You didn’t breathe for fear of discovery.

Whoever it was walked right past you, none the wiser. Both of you release your breath simultaneously. Even if someone had caught you, Arthur wouldn’t hesitate to kill them; even if it was his own brothers from the guard. They no longer mattered anymore.

A single touch from Arthur had you jumping and he chuckling. He’d only reached out for your hand. He brings it up to his lips and gives your knuckles the most gentle of kisses.

Finally you smile as he coaxes you along.

**

At this point, Selmy pauses to quench his parched mouth and ignite the courage required to continue with the story. He wished it ended there, (y/n) and Arthur escaping and happily living out the rest of their days somewhere in Essos.

Dany as well as the others drink from their cups.

“Of course this caused such a rage in Aerys. (Y/n) tended to have stubborn strike, but for the most part she had been obedient to Aerys. It was the quite the blow to him that his treasured daughter had escaped with one of his personal guards.”

Aerys had sent whatever manpower he could spare to look for (y/n) and Arthur.

“They remained elusive for several months. But one day while Arthur was gone to fight in a battle, Rhaegar’s defenseless camp had been attacked. They dragged (y/n) out by force.”

**

You’re pretty sure your scream pierced a few of your assailants’ ear drums.

Someone grabbed a fistful of your silver hair and nearly rips your skull from your neck. Even though it caused you unspeakable pain, you fight and claw at any inch off vulnerable skin you could dig your nails into.

They curse at you, crown Targaryen princess, and treat you with outstanding abuse you had never experienced before.

You could taste the rusty burst of blood trickling out from your split lip. Feel the boning of your corset imprint itself into your torso as they beat you into unconscious submission. These could not possibly be natives to the Crownlands. Possibly someone Aerys had paid off. No person, knowing who you are, would ever treat you in such a manner. Whether you were the Mad King’s daughter or not.

Fight had fled from you as they hoist you onto the back of an awaiting horse. They keep their eyes open to scan the area once more before leaving. There was no sign of the Sword of the Morning.

Silent tears spring into your vision as you watch Rhaegar’s plundered camp consumed by flames.

Your captors waste no time and heed their mounts to move faster.

“(Y/N)!!!”

Your eyelids try to flutter open at the sound of Arthur’s voice stretching over miles. It was impossible.

Hooves cease to beat and quietly stop at the approaching figure. Men in armor dismount and brandish their swords. Arthur was greatly outnumbered.

His battle had been far away from the camp yet there was Arthur sizing up his chances as he hops off of his own war horse.

“Yield, Ser Dayne.” One called out to him. “The king wants you alive.”

Eyes that could have passed off for Targaryen flick over to you and a knife that had suddenly appeared tauntingly against your throat. You stay absolutely still unless the blades gives you its sharp kiss. The only way you could keep your fear at bay was to keep your gaze focused on Arthur’s eyes. Wisteria filled pools calm your racing heart although you knew there was still much for you to fear.

Arthur dropped the great sword of his house, Dawn, in front of his feet in surrender.

Countless knights descend upon him and bind his limbs in chains. It would not do to have a knight of Arthur’s caliber have any access to his limbs.

He’d be compliant as long as they kept the two of you together.

**

“Couldn’t Ser Arthur have taken them on? I’ve constantly heard of his mastery with the sword and how he was like no other.” To Dany, the infamous Sword of the Morning gave up quite easily.

Every line on Selmy’s face seems to deepen. “Alas, Arthur was still but a human. He knew when to pick his battles. This was not one he could’ve ever won by himself.”

He knew he must tie off the story of (y/n) Targaryen and Ser Arthur Dayne. Anyone could imagine the torture Aerys put his daughter and Arthur through before their actual death. They accepted their fate with their hand’s holding the other’s.

(Y/n) didn’t she a tear when she glared at her father as he read out their punishment. She kept her head held high as did Arthur. That’s how Selmy wanted to remember them. Not their grotesque corpses that had been left.

From the older man’s reaction, Daenerys knew she’d learned enough as her own tears spill over her bottom lashes.

Next to her, Missandei hastily wipes a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Her hand was trembling in Dany’s as they support one another.

From a hidden pocket, Selmy sighs and pulls out a leather drawstring pouch. “After. . . After they had died, Aerys wanted their remains to be tossed like common trash. Instead we properly buried them. However. . . Before all remnants of her life was scrubbed from the world, I saved this one piece of her.”

Once placed in her hands, Dany tentatively pulls open the pouch and pulls out a silver locket. Engraved into its metal were beautiful flowers. Each petal captured with intricate details. In the center was tucked a large pink pearl.

Dany opens it, her eyes instantly round and glisten. “I-Is this. . .” Her gaze falls back onto the contents of the locket. Inside was a perfectly curled lock of silver hair. Targaryen hair.

“Before she died, Aerys had her head shaved for further humiliation.” Selmy whispers.

Softly Dany pets the soft piece of hair. The only part of her sister she’ll ever know.

Shutting the locket with a gentle hand, Daenerys holds it close to her heart.

**

The strong beating of Arthur’s heart had nearly lulled you to sleep. His arm slung around you, daring anyone to put you in separate cells.

They granted you this one last request.

Aerys wouldn’t let you and Arthur live. Both of you accepted that when you were captured. The Mad King didn’t take prisoners of war.

At least you had one last night with him. To be held in his arms and gifted kisses upon the crown of your head. This was all you had ever asked for.

The Few months you’d spent with him evading Aerys had been the happiest. If this was the price you had to pay for it then so be it. You’d finally experienced true happiness

“(Y/n)?”

“Hmm?”

You shift in his hold to look up at his gorgeous face. The man was a work of art and possessed the looks of old gods of the sun. Despite the sultry pout of his full lips, Arthur had always been dedicated to you; no other woman had ever held such sway over him in his entire life. Sweet as it was he’d even tried his hand at poetry to try and explain how much he truly loved you. It was awful but to you it was your dearest possession.

All over again, you fall in love with him from the way he gazed down at you with naked love.

“Being with you has completed my life. No matter how short a time we had. I’d do it all over again knowing this would be the price.”

You blink back tears but it’s useless. His image is blurry. “M-Me too. Knowing that you love me and you’re here…”

Arthur caressed the side of your face and pressed his forehead to your’s.

Whatever what happened when the sun rose, you’d have no regrets.

[citizensun]

my ultimate asoiaf crackship is definitely Qhorin Halfhands (but he's secretly Arthur Dayne) x Mance Rayder (who's just some guy). like imagine being so stuck up about your vows and notions loyalty that you refuse to serve the usurper king and choose to go the the wall instead and then your new brother is so thematically similar your your dead best friend that you can't help but fall in love a little. and then through all the yearning and catholic guilt-ing and actively misunderstanding the difference between choosing your post and being made to take it, when you think you finally found a like-minded soul..... the guy just fucking dips. would that be fucked up or what.

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #73: Game of Thrones, but make it Lancelot

As anyone can tell you, I have a terrible weakness for female Jon Snow fics, largely because a female heir to the throne allows you to combine claims and explore facets of Westeros in a way that can't be easily done with rival male claimants. And then I thought: if I can have an Anne Boleyn, why not a Lancelot?

Or: What if Jon Snow, the most famed knight of his generation, had an affair with the Queen of Westeros?

Aka: The Lord Protector Fic

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon, except Cersei Lannister dies in childbirth with her second child, Myrcella. This bothers her husband not at all and, despite Jon Arryn's urging him to remarry to secure his throne, Robert works his way through a series of brothels and mistresses before being forced to marry 14-year-old Margaery Tyrell in 297 in exchange for House Tyrell paying off some of his debts.

When Jon Arryn dies the following year, Robert and his court head north as per canon. While there, Sir Barristan takes interest in young Jon Snow - perhaps he sees something of Rhaegar in the boy, maybe he imagines he sees something of his presumed uncle Arthur Dayne's talent in him - and offers to raise him to knighthood with the aim of one day serving in the Kingsguard.

Ned is unable to turn down the offer, and reluctantly allows Jon to accompany them to King's Landing.

Jon quickly gains a reputation for gallantry and chivalry to rival either Barristan the Bold or Arthur Dayne - he intervenes when Joffrey tries to have Lady put down, makes a strong showing in the Hand's Tourney, and preforms several small acts of standing up for ladies/smallfolk/children that are quickly mythologized. Within two years he's knighted, with some asking if he will be allowed to take up the Sword of Morning as a presumed bastard of House Dayne.

Princess Myrcella is particularly taken with him after he defends her from Joffrey and demands he become her sworn sword until a position opens up in the Kingsguard.

His actions also draw the attention of Queen Margaery, who is even less happy in her position as queen than Cersei was but much better at hiding it. At first it's just friendship couched in a courtly love tradition, but by 299 they're lovers. When she gives birth to Prince Harlen a year later there's no doubt in her mind that Jon is the father.

Meanwhile, King Robert is almost as taken with Jon as his wife and daughter, for here is a version of Ned Stark who is also knightly, willing to take part in tourneys and feasts and dancing, and cannot help but see Jon as the son he never got to have with Lyanna. Instead of allowing Jon to take a position the Kingsguard as they open up, he showers Jon with riches and titles.

After winning a huge purse at the tourney in honor of Prince Harlen's second birthday - and Queen Margaery's second pregnancy - Jon is named Lord Cargyll, taking up the name and lands of the extinct Crownlands house of the same name, changing the golden goose in their banners to a golden direwolf.

After a falling out with Renly a year later, Jon is named Master of Laws...

...and six months later Robert's vices finally catch up with him, infamously being found dead in brothel of particularly ill-repute following an orgy.

Joffrey, now 17, is still very much his mother's son. One of his first acts on being named king is to declare his father's second marriage invalid and his half-siblings, Prince Harlen and Princess Lenna, bastards. His second act is to declare most of his father's Kingsguard and small council traitors for allowing his father to be "lured" to the brothel where he was "assassinated by Targaryen loyalists."

This naturally goes down badly, and though some of the lords named are captured and executed - Ned Stark, Petyr Balish, and Grand Maester Pycelle among them - most manage to escape. Jon in particular is able to get Margaery and the royal children to his lands in the Crownlands, and start raising a rebellion in Prince Harlen's name.

Robb ends up leading an army south to avenge his father, as per canon, but is never named King in the North. He does win several key victories against Tywin Lannister in the west, eventually taking Tywin himself captive. His victories earn him the nickname the Hammer of the West, a la Edward I.

Jon leads the fighting against the Lannister forces in the east, eventually taking King's Landing. The fact that he's able to keep his army from sacking the city and offers Joffrey the chance to take the black earns him the nickname Jon the Just. (Joffrey naturally refuses, tries to attack Jon in a rage, and is very swiftly killed in self-defense.)

In the aftermath, 4-year-old Harlen is crowned king. His mother Margaery is named Queen Regent, with Jon being asked to serve as Lord Protector of the Realm instead of taking one of the open spaces in the Kingsguard. He agrees, and two years later weds Margaery in a ceremony forever known as the Rose Wedding. (It's not as flash as the Golden Wedding, but is still something else.)

Meanwhile, Tywin is sent into exile for his part in abetting Joffrey's actions, with Tyrion taking over as Lord of the Rock. He and Sansa eventually wed and, though their marriage is never one of love, both are are content with their choice.

Robb marries Myrcella. Theirs does end up being a love match, becoming taken with each other when they first meet in the aftermath of Harlen's Rebellion. After their marriage they seem to make it their effort to make up for all of House Stark's losses, eventually having eleven children live to adulthood and marry into various important houses. By their deaths they're known as the Grandparents of Westeros.

Jon goes to his grave thinking he is Ned Stark's son, not knowing he's inadvertently brought about a Targaryen restoration.

Bonuses include: 1) the full force of angst and drama being brought to bear on Jon and Margaery's relationship, from its start as a mutual crush when they first come to each other's attention on the journey from Winterfell until they finally marry in 306. This should include Jon's desire never to father a bastard, Margaery's awareness that infidelity in a queen is treason, and their inability to keep away from each other. Extra bonus points if Margaery is able to pass Harlan and Lenna off as Robert's even to Jon, and not admit the truth until many years later; 2) every possible Camelot illusion that can be made to King Robert's court, made with the full knowledge that the beauty and glamor and chivalry of both courts is just smoke and mirrors, and one doesn't have to go looking very hard to find the gritty, painful, ugly reality beneath; 3) Jon using his time as Lord Protector to force through something like the Magna Carta, which enshrines basic rights that even kings must follow far more than the RL document actually did; and 4) Sansa having a prominent B-plot, slowly realizing during her time at court that not everything can be a song. The turning point of this is not Ned's execution, but her discovery of Jon and Margaery's affair years before - and her active choice to cover for them so that someone at least gets their happy ending.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this plot bunny, just link back to me if you do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Bastard of Winterfell | Daemon the Destroyer | Daena the Dreamer | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Elia the Magnificent | Jon the Fair | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Lord Protector | Maekar the Maester | People's Queen | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Queen of Nightingales | Red Queen | Rhaegar the Righteous | River Queen | Shiera Snowbird | Visneya the Victorious | Weirwood Queen | Wolf Queen

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[grace--le--domas]

Okay but imagine Dev Patel as Arthur Dayne >>>>

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi there! Can I request Arthur Dayne x reader!AFAB for kinktober with the age difference prompt please? Thank you!

I am still stunned by this. Thank you for giving me such a character to write about!

“The Black Swan”

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Fem. Reader (second person) | Location: Street of Silk

Themes: Smut (Lemon/Graphic) | Secret romance

Warnings: Age difference | Kissing | Some explicit language | Foreplay | Oral (fem receiving) |Penetrative sex | Cream Pie

Word count: 1.8k words

Summary: Arthur makes the most of his time alone with his companion, and in one of the only places safe enough for him to do so.

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

A/n: From what I could find, Arthur was born during or 260 AC. Given that this is an age difference post, I decided to go with him being born somewhere during or just after 240 AC. The reader in this scenario is 21+. This story takes places sometime during 280 AC.

Arthur was a sworn brother of the King’s Guard. He pledged a solemn vow to take no wife and father no children after he donned the white. He had honored those vows for most of his years of service, and that was nigh on eighteen years ago, when his father finally agreed to release him from his duties toward his family. 

All that changed as the years and time serving Aerys took their collective toll on him. When Arthur kneeled before the High Septon, he had been a man of two and twenty, full of dreams of honor and service and glory. Now Arthur was a man nearing forty, disillusioned with his lot in life and tired of a king that drank deep the poison that plagued many of his forebearers. 

He kept his head down and pulled up a thick hood while he walked down the Street of Silk, garbed in rough-spun robes. No one dared to look at him. Everyone else was too occupied with their own business to even care. Arthur threaded his way around peasants and merchants and sailors, taking care not to reveal too much of himself and make himself known. Someone tugged on the hem of his cloak. It was a beggar woman, dressed in rags. He obliged her with a few stars, refusing to linger more than was necessary. Arthur walked on, keeping to narrow pathways and filthy alleys, not stopping until a familiar, well-paved street scented with jasmines and awash in red and gold light came into sight.

His eyes lit up. The gilded lamps of the Black Swan appeared at the far end of the Street of Silk, its garden full of old trees. It was the only place one could find trees outside of the Red Keep, and its night-blooming blossoms were a welcome sight to the knight. 

It was also the only place he found pleasing and safe enough for his trysts. Arthur had heard the gossip about how others at court would bring their paramours here, how some of his sworn brothers came here. Arthur understood the appeal. The Black Swan was the only proper trysting house on the Street of Silk for those who were high-born. Its rooms were airy and warm, its wine delicate and fine, and its proprietress and the servants in her employ were considerate and discrete. And those, such as the knights of the King’s Guard, demanded discretion.

Arthur squirmed in discomfort. What he and his brothers-in-arms were doing was wrong. It went against their vows and against the teachings of the Seven who were One. They were damning themselves in many ways by coming here. Still, the chance to indulge in the sweetness that came to him in life was rare. Arthur did not want to let such precious occasions slip by.

“My lord,” Helya lifted her head when large doors swung open, and caught sight of a familiar pair of scuffed-up boots. The mistress of the house went no further than a cursory title. Anything more would be dangerous, not just for her patron but for her and her place of business. “Your lady arrived just before you did. I have set aside a room for your particular use.”

Arthur kept his gaze down and his hood up. He slipped a heavy bag of coin into soft, perfumed hands. “How is she?”

“Uneasy,” Helya admitted, leading him down a dimly lit corridor filled with the smoke of lavender incense. “I hope you understand why, what with all these tales around our king.”

“I do.” Arthur turned to his left and peered down another dark corridor. Was that Oswell’s deep, smug laugh he heard? He prayed that it was not so. One knight of the King’s Guard vanishing into the night, only to appear hours later, could be dismissed easily with a well-crafted tale. Two or more, on the other hand, could not. And then they would all have to answer to both King and the Council.  

“You are the only one present this night,” Helya reassured him. “The others are not here.”

Relief, no matter how small, was relief all the same. Arthur nodded and urged Helya to lead him on, his blood heating when muffled moans and gasps and cries spilled out of locked rooms. When they came upon a wide, wooden door, Helya gave him a brass key, made her excuses, and left. Arthur wasted no time, pushing the door open and locking it behind him without another thought. He turned around, sighing softly, when a cooling sea breeze blew in through an open window. The flames of nearby candles flickered and danced, throwing strange shadows onto sandy brick walls.

“Are you here, sweetling?” Arthur removed his hood and hung it on a wooden peg on the back of the door. He slipped out of his boots, already giddy with silent but eager anticipation.

“I am here, Ser,” you reply, and step out of the shadows, clad in the silken wisps Arthur had once gave as a gift. 

Impatient as he was, Arthur did not wish to hurry—not for a long while at least. He strode over and took your hand, leading you to a nearby seat made especially for two. As soft and comfortable as that seat was, it was not big enough for him, for Arthur was tall and large and imposing.  

Tonight, his often stern eyes were full of sadness. You reached out and caressed his cheek. “What troubles you, Ser?”

“The same as always, sweetling.” Arthur closed his eyes, his mood souring. “The king. The choices I made before coming to this city. I hope you do not take offense to my not speaking further about such matters. I do not wish to soil my time with you by regaling you with tales of woe.”

“I understand. Were you seen, Ser?”

“No. And how many times must I ask you not to call me Ser, at least while we are beneath this roof?”

You smiled broadly. “One more time, Ser. As always. “

Arthur’s smile, a rare sight on most occasions, mirrored yours. Then he leaned in. 

His kiss was sweet and languid and patient—a far cry from the wet, messy kisses you had become accustomed to. But then again, such was to be expected of him. Arthur curled a finger under your chin, tilting it to the side before dipping his head, the still brown stubble along his cheeks grazing your skin. The shiver that greeted Arthur made him tremble, filled him with an all-too-common craving that demanded to be satisfied. He drew back, slipped his arms around you, and lifted you up.

The featherbed was soft, and its sheets were made of the finest silk. That was another thing that made the Black Swan special: how Helya spared no expense when turning the abandoned manse of a now-dead merchant into a little haven for those who desired it.

And Arthur was grateful that Oswell spoke to him about its existence.

“Lay back, sweetling,” he surged, impatient to disrobe himself. You move higher up the bed, your cheeks blazing when rough-spun robes are disposed of, and a finely formed body littered with old scars is exposed to dim light. Arthur caught your eyes darting away and chuckled to himself.

“Do not hide yourself from me,” he implored. “We have come to mean too much to each other for that.”

The featherbed sank as you turned to face him, the haunting lilac eyes that were like hooks for the soul, and the skin that reminded you of the golden sands of Dorne. Arthur cupped your cheek again, his thumb tracing a lazy line. The world outside went silent. Or, perhaps, it was just him and you ignoring everything else. He pulled you close, his arms strong but exceedingly gentle. His skin smelled of leather and sweat. It was a knight’s scent. One deep breath was all it took, and you were already under his spell. Arthur pushed you onto your back, closing his eyes when your mouth opened beneath his. He pulled your wisps off you, his hands still warm to the touch.

Kissed by the summer sun, you mused. Just like the rest of him.

His hands glided all over now, leaving no inch untouched. A finger slid up inside you, sheathing itself in your warmth. Your arms slipped around his back and pulled him closer. Arthur found himself being urged to go deeper. He groaned delightfully in response.

“Temptress,” he whispered in your ear and dipped his head, moving even lower, eager to taste.

You moaned, long, deep, and husky. The heat of his mouth and the softness of the tongue pressing broad strokes over your folds, gave way to new pleasure and fed his own. You bowed up, arched your hips, half-whispering words that would have made you blush in the bright light of day. Arthur chuckled faintly. It was another rare thing, and more than that, it was one that was for your ears alone. He dipped his head again, now fucking you with the flat of his tongue, now slipping a thick finger into your cunt, now shifting to that sinful tongue of his again, on and on until his lips and tongue and chin were soaked. You murmured, so close were you to peaking. Arthur stopped and climbed up. The legs that wrapped around his hips were all the invitation he needed to plunge hard and plunge deep.

He never fumbled—not even once—nothing like wet behind the ears lordling who was your first. Then again, Lord Brynden was a selfish young man who had only ever thought of his pleasure, and never yours. Arthur was different. He wanted to give instead of just taking and taking with no care for anything else. Even now, it is the same. He kept his attention on you, his hands teasing and toying, his eyes flashing—now searing, now hungry, now dark. You reared up and kissed him, then pulled him down with you. Arthur clasped your hands in his and pinned them to the pillows. His grunts were low and ceaseless. They vibrated against your throat. His cock filled you in a way you could never conceive. It was extraordinary and startling at the same time. Your body hummed as if electrified. Something within tightened, then snapped. The orgasm that followed was quick and sharp, like a flash of golden light that blurred your eyes. Arthur drove into you again and again until he shattered, spilling himself after one last powerful thrust.

If I die on the morrow, he thought, it will be as a happy man.

Arthur opened his eyes, his chest still heaving from the exhilaration. Sounds trickled in through the windows and the crack beneath the door. Waves crashed against the cliffs. A storm was approaching. There was music too, though nowhere as loud. Someone was strumming a viol. Another was singing. Two of the servants, no doubt, entertaining those enjoying cups of wine. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath, and slowly rose to his shaky knees. He helped you into your robe, then bent down to kiss you, teasing you with promises of more to come.  

“Stay just as you are, sweetling,” he said, his smile warming his eyes. “I will send for a meal and some wine.”

[wodania]

Do you have any House Dayne characters art? I looked at your Dyanna & Darkstar sketches and now I cannot imagine them any differently 🙃

Also: there is something so unique yet realistic about your art that just gets engraved into my mind so much that my brain has decided that those are perfect imaginings of the characters, and I am not going to try and dispute that.

Not many besides the Gerold drawing and the Dyanna doodles unfortunately :( the first is a sketch of JonCon, Arthur, and Rhaegar. The second is a rough concept of Beric and Ned.

AND THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭 having my designs be the designs ppl imagine when reading the book is one of the best compliments ever omg

[15-lizards]

thoughts on the theory that jon snow is the son of brandon stark and ashara dayne? i think i prefer this to r+l but the timeline is stretched verrryyy thin in terms of conception . ive seen some arguments that jon is actually older than robb (even just by weeks) to make it work. i think it’s possible (maybe not as canon i dont think grrm intends this) but i prefer it myself. what about you?

I mean obviously it’s not meant to be canon bc the Lyanna Jons Mom Symbolism really couldn’t be more in your face. The whole fire and ice shit u know. I personally don’t really care too much about it bc like…what thematic meaning does it carry. But it is fun to imagine the fucked up scenario where Ashara has a baby by Arthur but then it dies 🤭 thank u @mylestoyne for that one. But yeah I don’t really think too much ab the B+A=J theory cause it’s got nothing to offer me but if you can make it work more power to u dawg

[daenerysoftarth]

jfc wait just realized that when Jaime joined the Kingsguard he was 15… most boys don’t start growing any kind of facial hair until they’re in their mid to late 20s. Jaime probably would’ve at most just started getting some peach fuzz. so his dad obviously isn’t there to teach him anymore, and that rite of passage is instead passed over to arthur dayne. imagine that scene of arthur dayne tenderly cradling jaime in his first days as kingsguard, getting Jaime ready to look the part of Noble Knight ™, seeing that gleam of pride in Jaime’s eye, knowing how close it is that his fantasy is shattered by one of Aerys’ foul moods. imagine him cupping Jaime’s face as he teaches him how to shave with his own sword.

… imagine jaime using that same sword when he stabs aerys, holding the king’s face almost tenderly as he died like arthur held his

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Give a modern head canon you have for Rhaelya such as : their jobs, college degrees, favourite movies !

Okay,

First, I want to say I imagine Lyanna growing up in a farm. Her father owns one and she was raised on the countyside. When she went to city for college (veterinary medicine). There she met Rhaegar in the pub he was singing (he's a musician)

Ten years later, they are still together, married and have a little son (Jon). Lyanna works on a vet clinic and Rhaegar has music gigs but mostly on weekends which allows him to be at home with Jon. On most weekends and on holidays, Rhaegar's kids from his first marriage (Rhaenys and Aegon) also stay with them.

About their son, they decided that Lyanna would pick his name and Rhaegar his godfather. Lyanna chose the name "Jon" which is a common name to the area she was raised (JonCon refuses to believe that Lyanna chose the name and instead thinks that Rhaegar chose it because of him xD). Rhaegar decided to make his best friend, Arthur Dayne, Jon's godfather. Arthur - who is a martial art trainer- has promised his godson that once he grows up a little more he'll give him free martial art lessons.

Lyanna prefers action and superhero films. Her favourite is The Old Guard. Meanwhile, Rhaegar prefers classic films and adaptations of Shakespeare (because they are dramatic!) He has watched all of Zeffirelli's Shakespeare adaptations at least ten times.

[melrosing]

MBO Robert's Rebellion: Season 2 Episode 1

finally worked out how all the events of the rebellion break down into ten episodes you better believe im so serious about finishing this

anyway we're onto season 2 and rhaegar's about to get silly

SEASON ONE: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6, Episode 7, Episode 8, Episode 9, Episode 10

title for this one: the most i've ever thought about petyr baelish

Open to a woman’s screams. The chaos of the birthing room as Elia gives birth to Aegon with great difficulty. Rhaegar stands watching on, anxious, as the baby emerges silent - it takes several frightening moments before the boy cries out. Elia collapses once she hears him, and there’s a great rush to recover her. Meanwhile, Rhaegar is presented with the child. The maester says he is glad that Elia has been delivered of a son, as he fears she will not be able to bear another. Rhaegar, looking at his son, murmurs that this must be Aegon. But, he says, there must be a third. There cannot be a third, says the maester

Opening creds. if this were an anime we’d have changed the song by now so we’re going from caramelldansen to the lucky star opening

Jaime Lannister training in the yard of the Red Keep with two other members of the Kingsguard, Lewyn Martell and Oswell Whent. The king has kept him at arm’s length since Harrenhal, so Jaime has been able to forget the circumstances of his joining the KG for a bit and enjoy training with these elite knights - he seems to have built some rapport with Lewyn and Oswell already. Lewyn suggests the approaching Barristan Selmy try Jaime; Barristan, who is still dubious of a teenager’s place in the KG, declines and says he has come to convey a message instead - Aerys has requested Jaime’s presence in the throne room. Jaime, surprised, goes alone

Aerys, accompanied by Arthur Dayne, is receiving congratulations from lords and ladies of the court on the birth of his grandson, his Hand Lord Merryweather proposing a great tourney. Aerys dismisses all but Arthur upon Jaime’s arrival, and bids him closer - we get the sense that Aerys has harboured some residual fears about Jaime, but attempts to push those aside now. He has Jaime stop before him at the top of the steps to the throne, and looks at him directly. Quivering, then almost fond, Aerys tells Jaime he has his mother’s face. Then, his voice hardening: ‘but you’re your father’s child, I know.’ Arthur, from the foot of the throne, calls Jaime down ‘with his grace’s permission’, which Aerys allows. Jaime gratefully acquiesces, and follows Arthur to the exit. Arthur tells him to relieve Jonothor Darry in Maegor’s Holdfast, and watches Jaime leave with a hard, searching look

SUDDENLY!!! Big clash of swords. We’re at a melée at the Eyrie. Robert makes short work of various opponents one after the other. Faced suddenly with Ned, he grins apologetically before tossing him comfortably to the side, finally duking it out with Lyn Corbray (yes i remember him) and winning to great ardour

With Ned and Robert afterwards striding back towards the castle. Robert suggests Ned puts his back into it next time, he knows he was letting him win. Ned replies that he doesn’t get as much out of this southern sport as Robert. Nonetheless, he notes that Robert fought with fire today, and Robert replies that he was imagining each of his opponents as Rhaegar Targaryen. His marriage to Lyanna will be brought forward in light of the Prince’s odd behaviour at Harrenhal - whether Rhaegar was drunk or mad as his father, Robert will not share his betrothed. Anyway why don’t they go unwind at a brothel later lol

At camp with Lyanna and Rickard, who are travelling through the Riverlands for Brandon’s wedding - they’re camped near Harrenhal, awaiting his arrival before they travel back to Riverrun with him. Lyanna and Rickard aren’t on the best terms: Rickard has recently pulled forward her marriage to Robert in an attempt to defend her honour following events concerning the Prince last year. Lyanna appeals to Rickard once again to postpone the wedding; Rickard says he believes Lyanna will learn the appeal of marriage when she sees Brandon married to Catelyn. Lyanna bitterly wonders if Catelyn would be so happy if she knew that Brandon had loved before. Rickard, angry to hear his daughter talking of THAT kind of thing cough, says a man can love before, to better know his wife when he meets her. Lyanna asks why it’s a different rule for women? Rickard scolds her, reminds her he’s made her a fine match and that the wedding is being brought forward for her benefit - she’s been the cause of enough trouble already. Lyanna storms off into the woods, Rickard calling her back angrily

At Riverrun with the Tullys - big ole feast. Hoster raises a toast to Catelyn’s engagement to Brandon, as Catelyn smiles shyly at his side. Petyr, on the sidelines, looks ready to combust. The feast turns to a dance: Catelyn takes her first turn with Brandon (he's a very showy dancer, and makes her laugh with big spins and flourishes). Then she dances w Hoster and Brynden, whilst Petyr dances with Lysa, constantly craning his neck to look over at Cat. Eventually Petyr manages to break away from Lysa and ask Cat for a dance. Cat, in high spirits, giggles and jokes with him, and Petyr, already a few drinks down, tries to kiss her. Catelyn pushes him away laughing, and Brandon, having seen it all, jokingly scolds Petyr for trying. That something so serious to him is a joke to the pair of them stings terribly. Petyr skulks away to his room 

Rhaegar with Elia. Rhaenys is playing in his lap, but both her parents are distracted. Eventually Elia looks to Rhaegar, and Rhaegar, realising they’re about to talk, asks a maid to take Rhaenys away to play with Viserys. When they're gone, Rhaegar remains silent - but Elia reads his mind. With some strain, she tells him she’s given him all she can now: they may have no love for another (Rhaegar does not jump to quarrel this, and Elia’s heart visibly sinks despite itself) - again, they may have no love for one another, but she still means to do her duty. These children are both of theirs, and they must protect them. Rhaegar nods, but his mind appears to be elsewhere

Brandon is due to part ways with the Tullys for now as he goes to meet Rickard near Harrenhal. Catelyn whispers her thanks in Hoster’s ear for the fine match just as soon as Brandon’s out of earshot - but Petyr overhears. His face twisting, he immediately steps forward to challenge Brandon (who is already mounting his horse) for Catelyn’s hand. Catelyn in utter shock, Hoster Tully looking fairly murderous like 'you do this on the day of my daughter's engagement'. Brandon is first stunned, then amused, then stunned again when he realises Petyr is serious. He tries to put the boy off, saying he’ll meet a lady of his own one day, but the condescension only turns Petyr’s eyes darker - Brandon sees that. Fed up trying with the kid, he says he’ll humour him, if it only helps Petyr come to his senses

Rhaegar deep in the library at the Red Keep with Arthur Dayne. Surrounded by books and scrolls, he mutters, uncomprehending, what Elia has told him - that there will be no more children, no third head of the dragon. Once all his dreams had told him to choose Elia, and he had followed them to her without a care for his own wants or desires. But now his dreams show something different: they show what he fears his heart wants - so how can he trust whether it’s truly the visions he follows, and not his heart? Arthur like idk that sounds rough man

Petyr arrives before Brandon shoddily armed, and Brandon (in full armour) declares that this would be a poor fight indeed. The Tullys watch on, Hoster still raging, Cat and Lysa in a panic. Brandon offers Petyr opportunity to yield, but Petyr strikes his breastplate pathetically with his sword. Brandon offers him the chance to yield again, and still Petyr seeks to provoke him. Finally, Petyr lands a blow that comes a little too close to blood for Brandon’s liking. Finally enraged, he sends Petyr flying with a fist, never drawing his sword. Petyr attempts to rise again, but Brandon stamps down on his chest (Lysa begins shrieking), and Petyr chokes. Catelyn screams, and begs Brandon to leave the boy - she’d never marry him anyhow, but he was dear to her once. Brandon raises his eyebrows, and wipes his foot on the grass. Washing his hands of the business, he kisses Catelyn’s hand before departing, whilst Petyr coughs up blood into the dirt, watching Brandon ride away with pure hatred in his eyes

Ned helps a drunken Robert back up the spiral stairs to his room once again. They pass Jon Arryn’s solar, and he smiles with a touch of conspiracy to suggest their secrets are their own. Ned grimaces - he has no secrets

Don’t ask me where the nearest brothel is to the eyrie i hate to think. I don’t know how they got back with ned half carrying a drunk robert they just did

Petyr lies barely conscious in a dour back room of Riverrun - all that Hoster is willing to afford him now. The door creaks open, and a figure steps through the door, candle in hand. Petyr says: ‘Cat.' The figure answers: ‘It’s me.’ Petyr, eyes barely open behind the bruising, grins a bloody grin. The figure tells him tearfully that Hoster means to send him back to the Fingers as soon as he’s healed, that it’s all monstrously unfair, that Brandon is a brute, that she hates to see Petyr suffer so. Petting his face, the figure says that no-one knows she’s here, so for tonight at least they can do what they like. Petyr grins wider as Lysa leans in to kiss him

In KL: Jaime, patrolling the courtyard, sees green light flashing in the windows of the throne room. He frowns, uncomprehending, and walks carefully towards a side door to investigate. Opening it, he hears muffled screams coming from the throne room beyond the next door, and approaches with great trepidation, one arm outstretched. SUDDENLY!!! Arthur Dayne emerges from the throne room, and we have the faintest glimpse of a bright green light: a terrible scream rings out. Just as quickly, the door is closed again. Arthur studies Jaime a moment, then suggests he goes to bed: his duties are done for the night

Rhaegar having an absolute Willy Wonka’s tunnel of visions. Blood seeping into a fast-running river, dancing green flames, guts spattered across stone floors. And a blue rose again. Rhaegar opens his eyes at once, suddenly resolute

Lyanna, sat alone in the dark woods, turning a dried flower crown about in her hands