Chapter 11: The Kingsguard - Interlude

Arthur would never forget the day he was knighted

Days before, he'd ridden out without his lord father's knowledge along with a small band of armed men, seven in all, two of whom were knights to go searching for a group of bandits who'd taken to terrorizing small fishing villages on the edge of the Torrentine.

Atop the finest of Starfall's sand-steeds, they had spent days scouring the paths and wilderness for miles along the coast of the Torrentine, hoping to catch the dishonorable curs who'd taken to attacking innocents to satisfy their greed.

However, as the days passed, his men had lost their excitement for the hunt.

"Too much land to cover, my lord" one had spat angrily on the eve of the third day "too much land and too few men."

Arthur refused to relent

"I am a son of House Dayne" he addressed the men, steel in his voice "And these are Dayne lands. It is my duty to protect them and those who dwell in them peacefully. We shall continue."

And so they had. For days they rode, following old tracks and questioning men and women they came across on their travel until at last an old man had come to them, hunched and dressed in rags.

"My children" he"d told them, voice faint but full of grief and fury "Killed them all, they did, and three of my grandchildren as well"

"My respects" Arthur had nodded gravely "I pray they find peace with the gods"

"I pray for their peace" the old man nodded fiercely "But I'll have my piece from you, once you kill those whoresons!"

"Watch your mouth with your lord-" one of his men began

Arthur waved the man off, and the old man continued

"I know where you'll find them, I do!"

Intrigued, Arthur ordered him to go on "They always come down from the north. I'll wager all I own that you follow the river up north and you'll find them all!"

Seeing no better alternative, Arthur and his men had ridden up the river for a day and a night, until at last, they found a trail of campfires to follow

"We'll have them by morn, my lord," the same man who'd advised him to call off the chase said, face full of satisfaction.

Indeed, as they moved through the cover of darkness, they found the men, a motley band of eight, dressed in mismatched leathers no doubt stolen and armed with weapons that ranged from swords and spears to bows and arrows. They even had four steeds, tied to trees nearby.

All of them sat around an open flame, laughing merrily and drinking wine.

Arthur's blood boiled when he caught sight of them. So much carnage and chaos, and yet here they stood proud and self-sure.

Then one of Arthur's men stumbled, falling on a knee. It was not a particularly loud noise, but it traveled well enough. The men roused, steel being drawn, and Arthur and his own in turn charged.

Arthur went for the bowman first. A swordsman he could fight, but few opponents were so dangerous at close range as a bowman with a knocked arrow. The man saw his approach and snarled, raising his bow desperately, but he stood no chance. Though Arthur had never killed before, he had been trained and honed his ability for years. He swung his sword.

The blade sliced through the horrified man's throat with hardly any resistance, a wet noise sounding from his mouth. Arthur watched, for a moment equally horrified as a veritable geyser of blood erupted from the ruined throat and painted his vision red. His hand shook, and it was only instinct that ensured he didn't drop his blade.

Instinct saved his life.

A roar sounded behind him, and he whirled around, briefly noting the look of grief and maddened rage on the man's face before he raised his sword to defend himself. Their blades met with a clash of ringing steel.

The man retreated a step before raising his blade and swinging down brutally, a move that spoke of great strength but little skill.

It ended quickly. Arthur feinted, pretending to lower his blade, and the man raised his own, roaring in victory. Arthur once more dodged to the side, and, as the blade passed through, where he was but a moment ago, he stabbed up. His sword tip rammed through the man's skull, skewering his brain and tearing its way out of the back of his head. A quick death.

He turned, ready to assist his men, but the battle had already run its course. Eight bandits with good weapons and no doubt stolen horses were a danger to the small folk, to be sure but attacked in an ambush and by trained men at arms at that they were no danger.

"Our task is completed, my lord" One of his men nodded "Justice has been served"

Arthur merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. He took a moment to compose himself, then said aloud "Indeed. Strip the bodies and their packs. Any belongings they possess that are of value will be used to recompense the people of the villages that were attacked. Then bury them."

His men nodded and voiced their agreement, and he turned around and stalked off, voicing his desire to clean himself off. The moment he was sure he was not within sight or hearing distance of his men, he collapsed to his knees and retched violently, tears in his eyes.

He did not doubt the necessity of his action, but to have taken a life, to have ended a life.....

Later, once he'd cleaned himself up, he found one of his men waiting for him with a wineskin, a kind look in his eye.

"The first one is always the worst, my lord. Your conduct was admirable nonetheless"

Arthur only nodded stiffly. He'd done his duty, nothing more.

They departed for Starfall, a small number staying behind to repay the villages and inform them of the end of the. bandit threat. They pushed their horses hard, and they arrived at Starfall just as the sun was setting.

Arthur had scarcely set foot in the castle before men had him whisked to his father's solar.

Beric Dayne was a powerfully built man, tall, with pale blonde hair and blue eyes. He had stared at Arthur, only the stiffness of his features portraying his rage.

"You left the castle, without my knowledge. You took my men at arms, without my permission, and you pursued bandits across my lands, without my leave. What say you?"

"It was not right of me to do so, and I will accept any punishment for my mistakes." Arthur began "But I will not apologise for defending our people. It was my duty. "

Face blank, his father simply stares at him for a moment, before declaring that Arthur would never do so again. Arthur was then dragged out before the assembled men and women of the household, and ordered to kneel.

Arthur knelt, stunned, and his father knighted him right then and there.

"It takes great bravery to stand by one's choices in the face of their consequences, and greater still to defend them" His father had grinned, then, a rare occurence.

"Now come."

...

Being knighted was an honor like no other. But as his father led him deep into the bowels of Starfall and into passageways none but the Daynes were permitted to navigate, realization washed over him and he paled.

"Father-"

But the man had merely waved his hand and quietened him. Then they were there, and his father was stepping forward.

The base of Starfall, the spot where the falling star that had defined his family's legend had struck the earth.

And from its remains, a blade unlike any other was forged...

"You are brave, my son" His father spoke, pride colouring his voice "Kind, honourable and dutiful. You embody the best of House Dayne and now, all the seven Kingdoms and beyond shall know it."

Arthur Dayne, the second son of lord Beric Dayne left Starfall days ago.

When he next left, it would be as Arthur Dayne, a knight of the seven kingdoms and the Sword Of The Morning

...​

Years later he would find himself knelt at the foot of an Iron throne, donning a cloak of finest white.

"Arise Arthur Dayne" spoke the king "A knight of my Kingsgaurd"

As the year 276AC dawned, Aerys II Targaryen had proved to be a good king for peaceful times. Though known to be quick to anger and lacking in patience (though none would dare say so to his face) he governed the realm with Tywin Lannister as his hand.

Arthur could barely contain his elation. A position in the Kings guard, alongside men the likes of Barristan the Bold and Gerold Hightower, and a just King to serve at that

The gods had smiled down at him

...​

Arthur befriended Prince Rhaegar easily enough. The man was well-learned, polite, courteous, and the very image of a dutiful prince of the realm. And as time went by, Rhaegar too began to trust Arthur.

Until one day, Rhaegar divulged the first of many secrets

"Arthur, what do you know of Dragon Dreams?"

...​

Then-

Duskendale

...​

Wildfire and burning flesh

Smoke and tears and horror

Queen Rhaella's screams and The monster he was sworn to cackling endlessly

Gods, why have you cursed me so?

...​

"My father has proven himself an unworthy ruler," Rhagar says flatly. His eyes were sunken, face pale, and hair disarrayed. Arthur knew his nightmares were tormenting him more, and if he walked into the Prince's chambers he would find tomes worth of scribbles trying to make sense of them "I intend to call a great council and strip him of his throne"

Oswell froze, and Gerold paled silently

And Arthur?

Arthur thought of the horror Aerys sowed, of burning pyres and screaming innocents and mad, deranged laughter.

"What would you have of me?"

...​

"You grew up here?" Arthur asked incredulously, voicing his questions only days after the King had dismissed them for the night.

They had arrived, much to Arthur's dismay only a day after the beginning of the tourney, and Rhaegar likely wouldn't have had time to set his plans in motion.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Oswell grinned smugly as he gestured to the wide expanses of Harrenhall

"Beastly is a term far more apt, I think"

And it very much was.

Monstrously large, and whatever Balerion hadn't turned to ash outright he had left twisted and deformed. The tales of Harrenhall, Arthur thought, were not aided by the fact that the castle itself looked more fit for demons than men.

Though, if half the stories of Harren Hoare are true, that might not be far from the truth....

The thought proved genuinely disquieting, enough that Arthur turned and murmured to Oswell "Has he begun?"

All traces of levity fled the man's face as he leaned in to whisper as well "Not yet, though I believe he intends to begin soon"

Arthur raised a brow "What makes you say that?"

"Talked to him earlier" He shrugged. He caught the worried look on Arthur's face and patted him on the shoulder "Have faith. Rhaegar knows what he's doing. I believe he will succeed without a doubt"

Arthur wished he could say the same.

...

When the Prince meets Lyanna Stark, Arthur hopes he found a friend and an ally. She was brave for one so young, and within moments of Rhaegar stumbling onto her struggling to remove her mismatched armour and explaining he wished her no harm, they were both laughing.

"Entering the joust as a mystery knight to avenge the honor of one of her father's Bannerman and a friend at that" Arthur grinned "That's a tale that even Barristan's can't match"

...

When the Prince crowned Lyanna Stark, Arthur only hoped it wouldn't end in blood and tears.

...

He should have learned not to hope

...

How had it come to this?

The news of Rhaegar's death shattered them. The news of Elia and the children's deaths took the pieces, ground them into dust, and scattered them into the Dornish sands.

Arthur wanted to tear his hair out in frustration, to scream and rage and curse.

Instead, he merely drew Dawn and prepared as Ned Stark and his men approached.

Behind him, Gerold and Oswell did the same.

Their failure to defend their prince and his children had only ensured that they would die before allowing harm to come to his last remaining legacy.

...

Ned Stark stares at him, fear on his face, and Arthur freezes.

He had told himself many things, over the years. That he could not strike Aerys down without breaking his oaths and honor, that his inaction was all to give Rhaegar the time he needed... But this?

There was no justice in killing a man whose only crime was attempting to save a sister he thought had been taken.

"Enough" His voice washed over the battlefield. Ned Stark and Howland Reed looked at him in disbelief, as did Gerold and Oswell.

He told the Northerners everything. Rhaegar's plan, the secret of the tourney, Rhaegar and Lyanna's incomprehensible and strange relationship, everything.

Once he was done, he stepped aside and let a pale and horrified Ned Stark step past him and run up to the tower, against Gerold's furious protests, because the Northenor was right.

"Now it ends.'

...

Later, when Ned was finished weeping over his sister, they came to discuss the babe.

Gaemon Targaryen, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Jon Snow, Ned argued instead, and though Arthur hates the despicable lie that would see his king (his friend's son) reduced to nothing more than his uncle's by-blow, he could not deny its effectiveness.

So he agreed.

But Gerold didn't.

Furious and mad with grief himself, the lord commander of the king's guard charged Eddard Stark and Howland Reed once more.

Dawn meets his blade, a pale milky blade against silver-grey steel.

"Traitor!" Gerold spat and Arthur didn't have the strength to speak again, so he settled for defending the Lord of Winterfell in silence

(He's sure if he opens his mouth he won't stop screaming)

Gerold's blade missed his throat by inches, and Arthur reacted without thinking. Dawn flashed and the lord commander fell to the ground, howling, blood pouring down his face in rivers.

...

Howland Reed cleaned Gerold's wounds and assured Arthur that aside from the scar, he would have no lasting damage.

Arthur merely nodded.

The next morning, they discovered Gerold and one of the horses gone. Ned, terrified of the secret getting out, suggested they chase him down

"Let him be," Arthur said instead (grief grief grief nearly drowning him). When both men whirled around to look at him, he simply stated "He is loyal. He will not endanger the young king so."

And that was the end of it.

...

They snuck into Starfall under cover of night. They couldn't afford for a mouthy servant to recognize them, not if their lie was to have any hope of fooling the realm. Oswell has already left, traveling towards the Queen Dowager and her children.

His father meets him on his way to return Dawn (and it hurt to part with the blade, agony sharp and brutal).

He raised a hand, and placed it on Arthur's shoulder "I am proud of you, my son"

(Later, when Arthur was alone, he wept for all that he has lost.)

...

Winterfell was a beautiful castle, Arthur, now Alaric, could admit. With its deep warmth, it was welcoming in a land so cold.

Its people, on the other hand, were far from welcoming.

Northerners were a proud, isolationist bunch. Any outsiders are reminded of their status with mistrusting eyes, hostile speech, and sharp avoidance.

Alaric did not mind, so long as he could protect Jon.

(He will never admit to the vicious satisfaction he felt when Catelyn Stark is reminded that she, too, is an outsider)

Jon grew quickly and healthy, and for a time, all seemed well.

...

When Jon collapsed in the Godswood, he had but moments to fuss over him before a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and he was lifted and slammed back first against the heart tree, a furious Ned Stark's visage filling his vision.

It softens only slightly when the man recognizes him.

"What did you do?"

Ned Stark likely wasn't thinking straight, but the implication is enough to drive him into furious denials and rage.

"Who else but you?" Ned Stark roared right back in his face

"Unlike you, my lord of Winterfell, when I swear a vow, I strive to fulfill it to the very best of my ability!" He spat back

The implication is clear to both of them (How can you let him be treated like this?)

Ned Stark raised his fist, and Arthur prepared for a fight.

Then Jon interrupted, and Arthur remembered his duty.

...​

The years passed by and Jon grew even more intelligent, far surpassing any children he's ever seen. He also, to Arthur's concern, grew all the more isolated, aside from his experiences with Robb.

When he catches him out by the crypts, having caught a glimpse of him, Arthur expects many things. But-

"I have strange dreams, Alaric"

Everything changed in that moment, and Arthur remembered Rhaegar's warnings

"Should I fail, all that awaits us are an endless night and the death of all"

So Arthur, without hesitation, followed into the crypts of Winterfell.

...​

'Dragon eggs" Arthur thinks to himself "Godsdamned dragon eggs"

He laughs himself silly at the thought of it.

Very well then

...

As Winterfell disappears into the distance behind them, Arthur thinks.

He thinks of his oaths of a knight, his promises, his family and sworn brothers, Rhaegar and Lyanna, and all the others who have suffered for a future yet to come.

He thinks of Jon, the young boy who would be king.

He feels hope and determination light his heart.

As Alaric of Pentos steals Jon Snow away in the dark, the Sword Of The Morning prepares to serve his king once more.

***

A/N: Soooooo. Arthur's a badass. Just thought I should acknowledge that.

Whatcha think?

-End of Volume 1-

Next Chapter: The City Of Kings - Part 1