So uh, this is gonna be quite an ambitious project, especially since I've been planning it for like...almost a year I think? Basically, I read The Other Stark Girl by a-song-of-quill-and-feather (amazing btw, please go read it) and re-read Three Tully Daughters and this is what my brain came up with like a week later. The original concept was completely different and I'm still torn on whether Sera's an Arthur ship or a Jaime ship, but she'll get plenty of interactions with both of them I promise.
Important! This prologue is a flash forward. It does take place right after Harrenhal, but the first half of the story will take place a couple years before then.
Sit back, relax, and enjoy! And if you like it please leave a review!
PROLOGUE
ARTHUR DAYNE
281 AC
The biting wind of the Riverlands tore through his cloak, sending goosepimples up his skin as it howled through Saltpans, a tiny little town on the edge of the Trident. It was the perfect place for the Crown Prince to lay low as Ser Oswell chartered a ship to Dorne.
Dorne. Arthur hadn't seen the land in many years. It felt like a lifetime ago since he was named Sword of the Morning and inducted into the Kingsguard that same moon. When he was torn away from his family and forced to serve a man who considered burning people alive proper entertainment rather than court fools and traveling bards.
He shut his eyes for a brief moment, forcing himself to breathe in and out as he listened to the world around him. The soft breaths of Lady Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar could be heard in the tent a few lengths away, so close he could almost touch the open flap in one swoop.
It was too dangerous to seek out an inn or an alehouse to take refuge in. The Crown Prince stressed the utmost secrecy when it came to the mission, and Arthur and Oswell knew that whatever the Prince had in mind would be far overshadowed by their reputations as oathbreakers if they went against his orders.
Arthur was nothing if not honorable.
And that damn honor had gotten him in trouble more times than he could count.
The snap of a twig sent his eyes flying open and he grasped Dawn in his hands,the blade almost glowing underneath the light of the full moon.
"Ser Arthur-"
"-What was that?"
The Prince had poked his head out of the tent, the Stark girl's long black tresses contrasting against the pale white coloring of the Targaryen line. Arthur's gaze scanned the tree line, narrowing in the direction of the sound.
"My lady," Arthur spoke quietly, not daring to look the woman in the eye. If he did he'd see a woman only a few years older than Allyria, a woman who was too young to be involved in any of this. If he met Lyanna Stark's haunting grey eyes, Arthur knew he would break his vow to the Prince in an instant. "Stay here. As long as you're with the Prince, you're safe."
Rhaegar's jaw clenched and he turned to meet the Stark girl's gaze. "Do not worry, little wolf," his hand caressed the woman's cheek, softening for a brief moment, "Whoever is out there won't be telling anyone where we are."
The daughter of Rickard Stark let out a sad sigh, guilt writhing in Arthur's chest as he realized what his Prince meant. "If I could have just told Ned-"
"Shhh," The Prince pulled her into his embrace, "He wouldn't have understood. None of them would have."
Arthur gulped down the knot tightening in his throat, but it stayed stuck where it was, refusing to move. Eddard Stark wouldn't have been the one he worried about. In fact, if Arthur's previous interactions with the second son were any indication, he probably would have talked some sense into the young woman. It was the heir that Arthur was wary of.
Grasping Dawn in his hands, he flexed his fingers for a brief moment before marching forward into the woods, darkness engulfing him as the Trident raged beside him. The babbling river seemed to cover any other sounds that had emerged, that or the intruder had suddenly grown intelligent and decided to be silent to gain the upper hand.
Not that he'd give them the chance.
He was the Sword of the Morning. The bearer of the ancestral sword of House Dayne.
Arthur felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and taking a risk, shut his eyes once more to listen to the world around him.
A symphony of crickets. The wind descending from a howling gust to a whistling breeze. And there it was.
A puff of breath. Quiet, barely able to be heard, but there. He rounded the tree, sword swinging, stopping inches away from the intruder's neck when he realized who he was facing.
A pair of wide grey eyes stared back at him, fear written into every feature of the woman's pale face. A sheet of thick brown curls lighter than her sister's hung past her shoulders, braided back in the traditional style of her people.
"My Lady?" Arthur raised a brow.
"Arthur-"
Steel clashed against the priceless blade in Arthur's hand and a whirl of blonde hair alerted the Kingsguard to a newer presence. One he knew better than anyone. The moves were his, taught in a courtyard before being mastered in a glade against the Smiling Knight.
Hazy green eyes stared into deep violet ones and their blades met once again, Arthur parrying his student's every move.
All it took was one well placed block with Dawn to regain the upper hand, a surge of power rushing through him with each blow. The Westerosi steel submitted to the pale milkglass, breaking in two, proving that not even the finest weapon money bought could stand against pure skill.
The beaten and bruised face of Jaime Lannister stared up at the blade pointed at his throat, and Arthur knew then that he could not obey Rhaegar's orders. He could not kill a boy of six and ten who did not deserve it. Whose only crime was defending the woman he was once supposed to be married to.
So the Sword of the Morning offered his hand to his former pupil, Jaime grasping it in an act of concession. Hardly an easy feat for a man with his pride.
But there were more pressing matters at hand. Especially with the appearance of yet another Stark Girl.
Lady Sera Stark was still pinned against the tree, dressed in pale blue riding clothes and a thick grey cloak.
"Lady Stark," Arthur panted out, "You should not be here."
Her face hardened into one of fierce determination, something he'd seen on Ashara a thousand times over. "I came for my sister." Arthur moved to protest but she cut him off, "I know she's here don't bother telling me otherwise."
"My Lady," He began once again, choosing his words carefully. "I assure you, whatever you believe happened-"
Lady Stark scoffed and crossed her arms, all semblance of the scared woman he startled earlier disappearing in a huff. "I know what happened, now where is she?"
Arthur stayed silent, but even he knew that if he suffered under the glare of those grey eyes once more, his secrets would come bursting forth. They matched Lady Lyanna's so perfectly, the two practically mirror images of each other, Sera with slightly lighter coloring.
"She asked you a question," Jaime growled out, the boy speaking for the first time since his induction into the Kingsguard at the beginning of the Tourney. Arthur turned his gaze upon him instead.
"You shouldn't be here either," He warned, the guilt clawing at his stomach and threatening to burst out of him, "You were meant to be guarding the Queen."
Jaime bobbed his head, "I was, until the Mad King decided it was a more fitting punishment to make me watch the tourney instead of participate in it."
Arthur gestured to the broken sword on the ground, "And this..?"
"I asked him to help," Sera interjected, stepping beside Jaime as if they were already husband and wife and not once betrothed before it had been broken, "I couldn't find you or Ser Oswell, and I couldn't alert my brothers, so I sought out Ser Jaime."
Arthur's gaze narrowed at the two of them. Jaime Lannister didn't strike him as the person to leave everything behind based on the whims of one woman. No matter how honorable. But then he remembered his former squire's sympathy for the innocent victims they would come across.
But there was something else there too. Something Arthur desperately wished to understand.
"Prince Rhaegar will not be understanding, my lady," He warned, turning his gaze back toward the elder Stark girl. She straightened her shoulders and lifted up her chin, looking every bit like the Princesses of Old. Before the Conquest. Before the kingdom was subject to the whims of Targaryens, Mad and Sane alike.
"Then if I am to die for seeking out my sister," She clenched her jaw, hands bundling into a fist, "Let the prince carry out my sentence himself."
"Sera-" Jaime's protests were silenced by a pained look, Lady Stark's eyes growing glassy as tears threatened to fall from her face. Arthur's heart twisted.
"There will be no bloodshed tonight, Lady Stark," A new voice entered the fray and Arthur immediately fell to his knees, Jaime following suit. Prince Rhaegar stood there in his shirt and breeches, the rubies of his crown glittering in the moonlight. Lady Stark continued to stare down the Prince like he hadn't just declared mercy. "I do not wish to start a war."
"Then why'd you steal my sister?" She asked, not even blinking. Arthur grimaced. Rhaegar grew silent.
The Prince let out a tight breath, "Your sister approached me, asking if I could help break her betrothal to Robert Baratheon…" Rhaegar paused, as if considering his words for another moment, "And seeing as we both shared an attraction to one another, we could think of no better options."
Arthur watched the stern look on Sera Stark's face melt away, although her eyes remained narrowed at the Prince himself.
He didn't think he'd ever seen Rhaegar look so calm. Here he was, staring down a woman who could tear holes in his perfect plan, and yet, he didn't even look perturbed.
It was almost as if he expected this outcome.
Sera fidgeted under the Prince's serene gaze, and Arthur swore he saw a flash of fear cross the woman's face.
Prince Rhaegar is not his father, Arthur remembered saying to Ashara when he was introduced at court as the Sword of the Morning.
No. Ashara had replied, a queer look in her eye, He's much more dangerous.
Arthur could see what his sister meant now. Prince Rhaegar's madness was not outward like his father's. He didn't burn his subjects alive for disagreeing with him or not providing good enough entertainment.
No, Prince Rhaegar's madness lay with his obsession with his books. With his quiet determination and undisturbed focus. It hid behind his charm, and now Arthur was watching yet another Stark Girl succumb to the whims of a Targaryen Prince.
"I want to see my sister," Lady Stark demanded, "Then I'll leave you."
Prince Rhaegar nodded, and gestured back toward their camp. But the hairs on Arthur's neck stood up once again, and the pit in his stomach grew deeper.
Sera Stark retreated into darkness, the light of the moon her only guide now.