DANCING WITH DRAGONS ;; a collection of imagines.

criston cole ; the shield and his princess

⁀➷ summary ; criston cole is many things – but a teacher he is not. after learning his duties as a sworn kingsguard, who is he to disobey an order from his princess?

⁀➷ pairing ; targaryen!reader x pre-green!criston cole

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the festivities that were thrown in king's landing was beyond ser criston. with pleasant music, girls batting their eyes and giddily running around, mixed with the loud roar of the crowd was enough for a man of his low stature to get drunk on. the feeling of adrenaline coursing in his veins as an opponent swings their sword, as metal clashes with metal and the song that rings from each weapon – it is a calling that criston knows is his.

dismounting the targaryen prince and earning the princess rhaenyra's favor was a blessing he thought he was dreaming of. but, being summoned to court on the account of being chosen as a kingsguard – gods, that was the highest he had ever felt.

much to his delight, permanently residing in the castle of king's landing was something he favored over the endless and scorching sands of wasteland he once called home. though the city did have a foul stench that burned his nose hairs from time to time, he had grown used to the taste of sea salt on his tongue and the terrifying roars of dragons that filled his ears.

he had also grown fond of the silvery wisps of hair of a certain targaryen princess.

ser criston was still young, merely in his twenties, when he had sworn the oath of a kingsguard. no land and no titles was an easy thing to get behind as he was a lowborn knight with little to his name, but an oath of chastity? to father no children, or feel the love of a wife? who was to say that a fleeting feeling of hope was treason?

"ser criston?" your voice breaks the young knights trance. he blinks rapidly, fingers drumming the helm of his kingsguard armor that rested at his side as he tries to remember what you were saying – did you ask him a question? was it about the upcoming celebration of princess rhaenyra's marriage to laenor velaryon? or, perhaps if it was about taking a stroll through the red keep?

he clears his throat and looks down at his feet, clearly ashamed, "forgive me princess, it seems that my mind carried me away." ser criston peeks up from behind a stray wisp of brown hair, only to see a bright smile directed at him. he can't help but swallow the queasy feeling in his stomach and smile right back.

"i'm rather curious about swordplay," you reiterate, glancing down at the massive book that rested upon the table in front of you. you take a moment to uncross your legs and recross them, getting comfortable into the seat. your hand tenderly touches the parchment, "it says here that it's a bit like.. dancing."

a look of confusion sweeps across ser criston's face as he takes in your words, "now that you say that, yes, it is quite a bit like dancing."

you hang for a moment, deciding your words carefully. being a princess had its downsides, and right now, being unable to attain swordplay as a hobby wasn't gratifying. even at your command, the other kingsguard would have asked permission from your father.

"would you show me?"

ser criston opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. to refuse an order given by a member of the royal family could have consequences, but to injure a princess would possibly be even a worse fate to imagine. he winces at the thought. he exhales slowly as he weighs his words carefully, "i'm sure you would find actual dancing more attractive than swordplay."

you unfold your legs and rise from your seat. your black gown falls back into place around your legs and moves with grace as you approach the knight. dark fabric peaks up at the sides of your shoulders and gathers near your collarbones, highlighting the bone underneath. he sucks in a breath. your hands clasp behind your back and heels click against the smooth stone of the floor. ser criston is still as you approach, but watches you carefully with black, beady eyes.