His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-Eight

Author's Note: From here on out, the story deviates from the HOTD timeline. Viserys didn't die the night of the dinner, and Rhaenyra never came on dragonback like she said she would. The next few chapters take place in the months leading up to Viserys' death in the late winter, and they'll be a wild ride, so buckle up, besties!

Chapter Warnings: white knight Arryk, toxic relationship, we're both mentally ill.

The countless drinks of wine swirled through your head, your body exhausted from the whirlwind of events from the day prior, but you couldn't turn your mind off. Everything felt different. An air of heaviness settled over your bones, disconnecting you from the world.

The Keep, its massive walls ever-encompassing, closed you inside its pale redstone, making it incapable of finding peace in the hours of the ghost. The blankets of your bed were too heavy, thick, and suffocating as your lungs struggled to breathe. It felt as if you were not in your body, your spirit torn away from its core, crushed by the future that loomed over you.

You couldn't stand another moment locked inside this castle, haunted by things you have done and things that have yet to be. Throwing the covers off your dampened limbs, you padded over to your winter boots, shoving your bare feet into the tight fur and throwing a cloak on. You needed air. You needed to be outside, to feel the realm between your toes and ground yourself within it.

Ser Arryk stood steadfast at your door as you swung it open, causing the knight to jump. After your heated argument, you still hadn't spoken more than brief sentences with the White Cloak. He remained dutiful throughout the limbo, a sworn protector no matter the circumstances. You were terrible towards him, a man who was loyal no matter the mistreatment he faced. Arryk did not deserve it.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you stood before the knight, your gaze downcast. "Ser Cargyll. I..." You started, the words becoming trapped in your throat like you were trapped within your heavy blankets. "I apologize for my behavior this past fortnight. You are a good and honorable man, and," your voice faltered again, looking up into the pools of sapphire that stared down at you. "And I extend my deepest, most profound apology for my actions. You do not deserve my ire."

"Princess, you needn't apologize. 'Tis my duty to serve Your Grace without fault."

"No, Ser," you quickly interrupted, stopping any further words from escaping his mouth with the grab of his bicep. "Do not deflect my apology with your honor. You are entitled to be angry. You are entitled to make me feel the way I made you."

"My Lady," Arryk spoke, his gaze serious as he stared into yours. "I shall deal with all your wrath with a stiff lip for I know you are a true person. You have never forgotten your roots, the people who made you. Your kindness for those around you is more admirable than anything I could do within my life."

Before he could continue, your body flushed with his, your warm cheek cooling against the metal of his breastplate. "Cease this. You are everything and more. Even when I have been such an imbecile you continue to hold me above you." You released him from your hold, hands sliding to his forearms instead. "We are equaled despite what statuses have been put upon us."

Ser Arryk was at a loss. His mouth parted in shock as he processed your words. "I meant what I said all those moons ago. You are my friend, my ally, and I wish for you to be by my side," the knight sucked in a breath, his digits gripping your elbows as he took a step closer, "as my protector for as long as you will have me."

Arryk felt himself deflate, though not enough for you to notice, ignoring whatever feeling of hope for the future he had with a nod of his helmeted head.