Arthur yawned as he opened his eyes, expecting to be greeted by his small room in the Red keep.
Only he wasn't.
Instead he stood in the middle of his families farmyard back in Harrowfield, but the place looked wrong right away. The fields that used to stretch out with wheat now sat bare and lifeless, the soil cracked and gray like it had not seen rain in years. Weeds poked up in thin patches and the old shed he stayed in when he was sick leaned to one side with half its roof caved in. He walked forward slowly approaching the house of his childhood.
He saw the graves first. Three simple markers stood near the edge of the yard where the vegetable patch used to be. One read "Father" and the other "Gregor" with the last one reading "Mother."
Arthur stopped in front of them and looked down at the stones for a long time. He had to admit he felt a little sad. Though he did not feel sad because he missed them. He felt sad because he wondered what kind of life he could have had if things had been different. If his father had been different, if his brothers had been different. He stood there until the wind picked up and stirred dust around his feet.
He may not be from this world but these were the only family he ever remembered having.
Which was sad in a way.
Finally looking up from the grave he saw a figure in the distance. He focused his gaze and realised that it was his brother, Garlan. His brother stood at the far end of the field near the treeline with his back turned.
"Garlan!" Arthur called out to him.
Garlan did not move. He stayed facing the trees like he had not heard him. Arthur started walking toward him, then broke into a run when Garlan still started to walk into the forest.
"Garlan! Wait!"
The distance closed fast, the dead field giving way to the forest edge. Garlan walked deeper into the trees without looking back. Arthur followed while branches snagged at his sleeves as he pushed through the undergrowth. Garlan stopped suddenly in a small clearing.
Arthur slowed to a walk and stepped closer. "Garlan."
His brother turned around with a blank look on his face, and the most empty eyes Arthur had ever seen staring straight through him. For a second Arthur thought he was going to speak, but instead something else happened.
Garlan's body started to change.
Feathers pushed out through his skin, covering his arms and chest almost instantly. His face stretched and hardened into a beak, his eyes turning bright and yellow. Wings also sprouted from his back with a wet tearing sound. The monster that he had become opened its beak and cawed loud enough to rattle Arthur's teeth, then lunged forward with his talons extended.
Arthur stepped backward as he tried to escape and tripped over a root. He fell and braced himself but the ground never came up to meet him. Instead the forest vanished and the world snapped into something else.
He landed on packed earth that felt warm under him. He pushed himself up and looked around. The trees were gone. The field was gone. In front of him was a slope of rock and dirt that rose into a wide opening like the mouth of a cave, the cave sat in a hill that looked cut open and hollowed out.
He moved closer and saw a nest laid out near the cave mouth, built from broken branches and splintered boards and pieces of stone and rusted metal. A few cracked bits of old blades stuck out at odd angles, the whole thing looked like it had been dragged together and made from things that felt both familiar and stuff he'd never seen before.
In the middle of the nest sat a small dragon.
It was white, not grey and not cream, but the kind of white that made it look like snow. Its scales looked smooth when it shifted, and its eyes were purple and blue. Arrhur didn't know why but when he looked at the dragon he felt there was just a profound sense that it didn't belong here. Even the other animals seemed to avoid the dragon.
The dragon lifted its head and looked straight at him.
Arthur froze and his hand twitched near his side as if he expected to find a sword there, though he had nothing. The dragon made a small sound, then it blinked slowly, and its chest rose as it took a breath. A thin line of smoke leaked from its nostrils and drifted upward, and it vanished into the haze without leaving a trace.
*Thump*
Arthur turned his head and saw a stag walking through the haze. The stag looked wrong in a way that was very similar to the Dragon. On closer inspection he was sure the stag was actually a doe, yet a huge set of antlers sat upon its head. Its eyes were green, a sickly green, like poison. It walked past Arthur without hesitation and angled toward the nest.
The white dragon shifted, and its claws scraped against the nest's rough pieces. It didn't look intimidated by the Stag though it and seemed to continue lounging in its nest.
The stag stopped at the edge of the nest and looked down at the dragon.
The dragon stared back and yawned.
A strip of metal cracked under the stag's hoof when the beast stepped forward into the nest, the dragon flinched back from the snap that echoed through the cave. The nest shifted beneath the dragon as broken pieces pressed into its belly and legs. The stag lowered its head while its antlers pointed straight towards the small cub, it then took one more step closer to the creature that lay there.
The dragon tried to scramble away from the stag, and its small wings lifted up into the air, but they gave no lift at all, so it slid across the nest and caught on a piece of wood that jutted out from the pile. It pulled free from that wood and turned toward the cave opening, but its claws scraped against the nest and slipped on the loose bits, and it found no traction to stand on.
The stag lunged at the dragon then, and one antler hooked under the dragon's side, which lifted the creature up off the nest. The dragons legs kicked out wildly, its tail whipped side to side, and a burst of smoke poured from its mouth, but that smoke turned to nothing more than vapor that hung there. The stag drove forward again, and the dragon slammed back into the nest where broken pieces shifted under it.
Arthur's feet moved on their own as he took a step forward toward the fight, his mouth opened wide, but no words came out from his throat.
The stag brought its head down hard against the dragon, and the antlers struck the creature's body which pierced the small creatures body. The dragon jerked and it went still as it bled onto its horns before the dragon was thrown off and the stag stepped down with a hoof onto its chest, that hoof held pressure there until the dragon's claws curled in and its wings twitched once, then twice, and then stopped moving.
The stag kept its hoof pressed on the dragon's chest until the creature stopped moving altogether and lay dead in the nest.
Arthur felt his stomach turn over inside him at what he just witnessed. He blinked his eyes shut and when he opened them again, he saw only darkness and stone around him, and the familiar outline of the room in the White Sword Tower came into view.
He gasped loudly as he sat up, sweat clung to his neck and chest where his shirt stuck to his skin, his hands were clenched so tight that his fingers ached from the grip. He sat there for a moment staring at the ceiling beams, his heart still beating fast from the dream. He rubbed his face with both hands and sat up slowly on the edge of the cot.
He wondered what that dream was. Whether it actually meant something or if it was just a normal dream his mind threw together from worry and tiredness was the question. He knew he could have dragon dreams, but he didn't want to assume that's what they were. He'd heard dragon dreams could give visions of the future, but they could also cause great madness in people.
He sighed and pushed himself off the cot. The stone floor felt cold under his bare feet as he walked to the washbasin. He poured water from the pitcher into the basin, splashed his face, and scrubbed at his skin with his hands until he felt more awake. He dried off with the rough cloth hanging beside the stand, then looked out the window. The sky outside had turned lighter, but it was not yet dawn. That meant he still had some time to himself before he had to start.
With nothing to do Arthur decided to practice Hamon breathing as he wanted to get better at channeling Hamon through different parts of his body. He stood in the middle of the room, feet shoulder-width apart, and started with slow deep breaths. He drew air in through his nose for a count of four, held it for four, then pushed it out through his mouth for six.
He kept the breathing pattern while focusing on the feeling in his chest and stomach. After a few minutes the yellow sparks appeared again, flickering along his arms and torso like tiny flames made of light.
He concentrated harder and tried to push the energy into his hands. The sparks gathered in his palms and started to intensify. He held them there for as long as he could, feeling the warmth spread up his forearms. He moved the energy to his legs next, directing it down through his thighs and calves until his feet tingled. He shifted it back to his chest, then out along his shoulders. Each time he moved it the sparks followed, dimming slightly when he lost focus but flaring again when he breathed in the proper pattern again.
+1 Hamon
+1 Hamon
He kept going for another half an hour, cycling the energy through his arms, legs, torso, even trying to push it into his head to see if it would sharpen his eyesight. The sparks grew stronger with each cycle, and he felt a warmth build in his core that pushed back the tiredness from yesterday.
+1 Hamon
+1 Hamon
+1 Hamon
He relaxed his breathing and let the sparks fade. He stood still for a minute, his body felt fully recovered from yesterday despite the fact it hadn't been a full day yet. With a grin in his face he walked to the small table where a pitcher of water waited. He poured a cup and drank deeply, emptying the cup. While he drank he got the idea to test his other magical ability. He set the cup down and focused on the power he'd gotten from his heritage token.
'The World'
For half a second he felt the world stop. The water in the cup froze mid-ripple, dust that fell from the ceiling stopped, every sound in the tower cut off completely. Then time snapped back, the water sloshed slightly, the dust fell and the normal noises of the keep returned.
Arthur stared at the cup, breathing fast as if he'd just ran a mile. It felt incredible. He had literally felt time stop. He walked to the window and looked out at the courtyard below. A pair of birds sat on the wall, wings half-spread like they were about to take off. He focused again.
'The World'
The birds froze mid-motion, their wings locked as they pushed off. For that half a second he could see the entire city frozen in time. It was incredible.
When time resumed the drain on his body and mind was immense. He felt like he had just been on a five-hour run. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he had to brace himself against the wall to stay upright.
He decided to use that only when he needed to. It was too powerful to waste on small things, and the cost was too high to use casually.
After practicing with his Hamon some more, he received a knock at the door. He stopped immediately, wiped his face with his sleeve, and walked over to open it.
A boy he had never seen before stood on the other side. The boy was tanned and unmistakably Dornish, with dark hair and eyes, maybe three or four years older than Arthur.
"Are you Arthur?" the boy asked in a Dornish accent.
Arthur nodded. "I am."
The boy smiled and stuck out his hand. "I am Llewyn. I have been asked to guide you through your squire duties today."
Arthur smiled back and clasped forearms with him. "I see, then thank you for the help, Llewyn. I appreciate it."
Llewyn waved him off. "Think nothing of it, squiring can be a difficult life. We are all trying to make it to knighthood so I'm happy to help as best I can." He clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "Are you ready to start?"
Arthur nodded. "I am ready."
Llewyn stepped back so Arthur could follow him into the corridor. "Good. Let us begin," he said before he
led the way down the spiral stair of the White Sword Tower. The corridor at the bottom opened into the small inner yard where the Kingsguard kept their private stables and training ground. Dawn had just broken, and the first pale light slanted across the cobbles. A few grooms already moved between the stalls, brushing coats and mucking them out.
Llewyn stopped near the wall that separated the yard from the tower entrance and turned to face Arthur. "First thing every morning, you check on the Lord Commander's horse before you do anything else. Ser Duncan rides a big grey destrier called Thunder. Thunder gets fed before you do, and he gets checked for any heat in his legs or loose shoes. You do that yourself unless a groom is already on it, and even then you watch them do it."
Arthur nodded and followed Llewyn into the stable block. Thunder stood in the third stall on the left, already haltered. Llewyn pointed at the feed bucket hanging on the post. "Oats and a handful of barley. Measure it with the scoop on the wall. No more, no less."
Arthur grabbed the scoop, filled it exactly to the line Llewyn indicated, and poured it into the trough. Thunder lowered his head and started eating happily. Llewyn leaned against the stall door and watched Arthur run his hands down each of the horse's legs, feeling for swelling or heat the way he had done with the mare they had back on the farm.
"Good," Llewyn said when Arthur finished. "Now you check the saddle and bridle in the tack room. Make sure the girth is sound, no cracked leather, no frayed stitching."
They moved to the tack room together. Arthur lifted the saddle off its rack, turned it over, and inspected every seam while Llewyn pointed out the places that usually wore first; the billets, the stirrup leathers, the padding under the seat. Arthur found a small tear in one of the girths and showed it to Llewyn.
"Replace it today," Llewyn told him. "There's spare leather in the chest by the door. Cut it to length, punch the holes, stitch it yourself if you have to. Better you do it wrong once and learn than let the Lord Commander find out mid-ride."
Arthur set the saddle down carefully and started searching for the leather. Llewyn stayed close, answering questions when Arthur asked about stitch patterns or how tight the new girth should sit. They worked side by side for nearly twenty minutes. When the girth was finished and back on the saddle, Llewyn clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "Very good for your first go. Most new lads fuck that up and have to redo it twice."
Arthur wiped his hands on his breeches. "Thanks. Im just trying not to look like an idiot in front of Ser Duncan."
"You won't," Llewyn said. "Just remember to when you don't know something. Come on, next is the armor."
They left the stables and crossed the yard to the armory attached to the tower. Inside, Ser Duncan's plate hung on its own stand in the corner. Llewyn pulled a soft cloth from a shelf and handed one to Arthur. "You wipe every piece every morning, he has two sets, one that'll he'll wear on shift and his spare, luckily you'll only ever need to clean one at a time. Start with the helm, work down to the chest plate. Use the cloth, not your sleeve. Oil goes on after, a thin layer only, and make sure not to leave streaks."
Arthur started on the breastplate while Llewyn took the greaves. Halfway through, Llewyn glanced over. "You're good... You ever squire before this?"
"Only for myself," Arthur said. "Kept my own gear clean back home."
Llewyn grinned. "Then you're ahead of most. Half the squires here come from houses that had servants do everything. They show up thinking armor polishes itself."
Arthur laughed under his breath. "I never had servants. If I didn't clean it, it stayed dirty."
"How it should be for a Knight," Llewyn said. "A knight who can't take care of himself without servants or a squire is no true knight."
They finished the armor and moved on to the white cloak. Llewyn showed Arthur how to fold it and clean it. "The Kingsguard always check their cloaks are clean, more so than anything else, so take care when folding it."
By the time they stepped back into the yard the sun had climbed higher and the keep was waking up. Servants carried trays across the outer yard, guards changed shifts, and a few men-at-arms started drilling with spears near the gate. Llewyn stretched his arms over his head. "Now we wait until Ser Duncan comes down or sends for you. If he's on shift or at council you have free time to do as you please, train, eat, read a book, just never look bored. Bored squires get given shit jobs."
Arthur nodded. "What about your knight?"
Llewyn shrugged. "Same routine, different man. Ser Gerold is stricter about timing. If he says dawn, he means before the sun touches the wall. But he's a good man, a fair man most of all, if I get a punishment it's because I deserve it, not because he is too harsh."
They walked back toward the tower entrance and found a bench against the wall. Llewyn sat and pulled a small wineskin from inside his tunic. He took a pull, then offered it to Arthur.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Wind?"
"Only the good stuff," Llewyn said. "Dornish red, aged three years. Helps the day start right. Try it."
Arthur took the skin and sipped. The wine was sour, warm, with a hint of spice on the finish. He handed it back. "That's better than anything I've had."
Llewyn grinned wider. "Wait till I show you the cask I keep hidden in the cellars. We'll crack it one night when the old men are asleep."
Arthur chuckled. "Sounds good to me."
They sat for a while, passing the skin back and forth, talking about general stuff. Llewyn asked about Harrowfield, and Arthur gave brief answers about the farm and his family. Llewyn told stories about Dorne, the red mountains, the coast, the girls in Sunspear who could dance circles around any knight. Arthur listened and laughed when Llewyn described one particular tavern wench who had once poured an entire pitcher of wine over a Reach lord's head for comparing her to a goat.
"You like the women, then," Arthur said.
Llewyn leaned back against the stone. "I like fine women the way I like fine wine. Both make life worth waking up for. The prettier the better, the bolder the better. You?"
Arthur thought for a second. "I like women who know what they want and aren't afraid to take it."
Llewyn raised the skin in salute. "My kind of man."
A bell rang somewhere in the keep, Llewyn stood up and brushed off his tunic. "That's the signal for the sept. Ser Duncan will be down soon after. Let's get back inside."
They walked through the tower door and up to the hall on the first floor. The room was round, simple, with a long table in the center and chairs pushed against the walls. A few other squires sat there already, eating bread and cheese. Llewyn grabbed a plate for each of them and they sat at the end of the table.
While they ate, Llewyn kept the conversation going. He talked about tourneys he had seen in the Dornish Marches, about the best brothels in King's Landing, about the vintage of Arbor gold that could make a man forget his own name. Arthur listened, asked questions, and found himself relaxing more with every minute. Llewyn had a way of making everything sound easy, even the hard parts of squiring.
After the meal they headed back to the yard. Ser Duncan still had not appeared, so Llewyn suggested they check the messages. They walked to the small room near the tower entrance where a stack of sealed parchments waited. "A lot of letters come to the Red keep every day and the maester can't sort all of them when considering his other duties, so while he will handle the royal families dispatches it is up to us squires to handle our knights messages." He then began to walk him through what was expected of him.
As they worked, footsteps sounded on the stair above and Princess Rhaella came down, dressed in a simple grey gown with silver embroidery at the cuffs. Her silver hair was braided and pinned, and she carried a small book in her hands. She saw Arthur first and stopped. "Arthur," she said in a warm voicr. She smiled. "I heard you would be here today. I am glad to see it with my own eyes."
Arthur bowed quickly. "Princess. It's good to see you too."
Rhaella stepped closer. "You look well the armour suits you. Ser Duncan is lucky to have you. I always hoped you would find your way to knighthood. You have the heart for it."
"Thank you," Arthur said. "I won't let him down."
She nodded, still smiling. "I hope we can talk again soon. There is never enough time in this place for proper conversations."
"I would like that," Arthur told her.
Rhaella inclined her head to Llewyn as well, polite but brief, then continued toward the sept door. They watched her go until she disappeared around the corner.
Llewyn waited exactly three heartbeats before he leaned in close to Arthur. "Fuck me, that woman is gorgeous. Those eyes, that hair, the way she moves and everything jiggles like the damn ocean. I would give both my nipples and one of my balls just to spend one night with her. One. Single. Night."
Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "She's pretty, yeah."
"Pretty?" Llewyn stared at him. "Come on, man. Pretty is what you say about a tavern girl with nice tits. Rhaella is something else. You telling me you wouldn't ride her like a horse if she gave you half a chance?"
Arthur kept his eyes on the parchments for a second, then looked up. "I mean... yeah. I would like to lay with her. Who wouldn't?"
Llewyn barked a laugh so loud it echoed off the walls. "There it is! I knew you had blood in you. Thought you were going to play the chaste squire for a minute there."
Arthur grinned despite himself. "I'm not dead. Just trying not to get my head cut off."
Llewyn slapped him on the back hard enough to make him stagger. "Smart and honest. I like you, Harrowfield. We're going to get along just fine."
They went back to sorting the messages. Llewyn kept throwing sidelong glances at Arthur, smirking every time their eyes met. Arthur rolled his eyes but could not stop the grin from creeping onto his face. A few minutes later Ser Duncan came down the stairs in full white armor. He nodded to both of them. "Llewyn. Arthur. Good to see you two."
"Just showing him the ropes, Lord Commander," Llewyn said respectfully.
Duncan looked at Arthur. "You keeping up?"
"Yes, my Lord," Arthur answered.
Duncan grunted in approval. "Then get my horse saddled. We ride out with the Goldcloaks in the next hour."
Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Of course my Lord," he said knowing better than to question a direct order. Though he was curious why he was leaving the city on his first official day as his squire.
He shrugged.
'I'm sure it'll be fine...'
(AN: So we have Arthur having a possible dragon dream and being shown the ropes by Llewyn. In case any of you were wondering this is the same Llewyn Martell who is a Kingsguard in aerys Kingsguard. I thought maybe it would make sense him being a squire, I'll have to go into more detail with it. He's never really given an age which makes it easier to make my own stuff up. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
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