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“After everything you say, I'd offer to squire them myself but I know the boys would never have an easy time here. And after what those squires did to your brother...” He closed his eyes briefly and Ashara tightened her hold on his arm. Her brother had been an outsider when he had come to court, the only Dornishman next to Prince Lewyn and no one certainly had ever dared to insult or even assault the Kingsguard.
But a boy of only ten name days? Unarmed. Unguarded because Rhaegar had despised being followed by shadows as a kid. Four or even five years younger than the squires who had waited on them in the stables, who had waited in the shadows until Rhaegar had just made one step too many away from his still new best friend before they had struck.
Arthur could have died from the knives they had stuck in his stomach, arms and legs and only Rhaegar's quick reaction and Lewyn's and Jonothor's even quicker actions had saved her brother's life.
--
Barristan cursed when Lewyn's spear slammed against his ankle again and he growled at the sight of the Dornishman's smirk, all in good nature of course. Just a little spar between friends in the afternoon sun to keep themselves on their best. And Barristan never wasted a chance to fight against weapons he usually did not encounter in what they had to deal with in the area.
„Don't grow old on us, Barristan.“ Lewyn snarked and laughed in good will when Barristan snorted, shaking out his foot. He straightened though when quick and loud feet could be heard thundering along the gallery and then a boy stumbled into the courtyard. The sight of the boy with blood on his red tunics and his hands almost dripping with it would have sent any of them to scramble up into alert tenseness, but considering it was the young Crown Prince it was near cause for panic.
Lewyn dropped his spear and brought his hand to the sword hilt at his hip while it was Jonothor who hurried over to the Prince with those wide eyes. Rhaegar had stopped in the middle of the courtyard, staring at them and not saying anything, blood was dripping from his fingertips. „Your Grace?“ The Kingsguard asked carefully, eyes snapped over to him, wide and panicked.
The boy was terrified.
Barristan glanced around them and then followed a deeply frowning Lewyn over to the Prince. Gerold and Gwayne were guarding the Queen and her ladies on their walk down to the Sept. Harlan and young Oswell were with the King.
Speaking of...
„Alarm the King.“ Barristan called over to Willem where the Master-at-arms had stopped the training of the squires, shushing the boys to disappear. When Barristan was within touching distance, Prince Rhaegar suddenly grabbed his hand and made off again, Barristan blindly following him along, his sworn brothers right at their heels, swords drawn now.
„My Prince, what happened?“ He tried to ask during the frantic pace that Rhaegar was using to get down the corridor again, he was leading them to the stables, Barristan could feel him shaking. Rhaegar didn't give any answers at all, no matter what Barristan asked him, just led them into the stables, his hand tugging and tugging.
And then he stopped at an open empty box and looked at them.
„Help him!“ He demanded, voice breaking on those two words already, „He didn't do anything wrong! Please help him!“ It was Lewyn who stepped forward to look where Rhaegar was pointing and when he gasped and lurched forward into the box, Barristan hurried to follow him. He didn't even need the lavender tunic on the boy in the hay, that kind of pale short hair on a boy that young could only mean one thing.
„By the gods!“ Lewyn gasped again as he dropped to his knees next to the still motionless boy, there was seemingly blood everywhere. „Arthur, can you hear me?“ But the boy of ten name days remained entirely unresponsive. Lewyn cursed and Jonothor nearly fell over his feet to get to his side, both of them hurrying to find out where all the blood was coming from. Barristan went down on one knee in front of Rhaegar, taking the boy's chin in one hand while the other remained holding his sword.
„What happened, Rhaegar?“
„He didn't do anything wrong! He didn't do anything! I just stepped away for five minutes to find the stablemaster, we just wanted...He didn't do anything...they just...they just stabbed at him.” Rhaegar's words were stumbling over each other and even when Barristan held his face his eyes wanted to flicker over to his best friend as if he was unable not to do. Indigo eyes were wide and terribly frightened, he was shaking.
“Who is they?” Barristan tried to push all worries to the side, an attack on the Crown Prince's closest companion right in the heart of the Red Keep and no one around to stop it, “Rhaegar, look at me, just look at me. Who did this to Arthur?” Rhaegar choked on two breaths, chest rising and falling way too quick.
“The squires...The squires of Ser Gerold and Ser Gwayne.”
In the box, Lewyn and Jonothor snapped their heads up to stare over to them, for just a quick second frozen in pulling tunics off of the bleeding boy beneath their hands. Barristan felt something ice cold run down his back.
But the spell was over as quick as it had fallen over them in this shocking declaration, Barristan had no doubt that Rhaegar wasn't lying, why would he, and he was way too scared to lie anyway, but it were other things more important right then and there.
Jonothor went running to alarm the Grand Maester, Lewyn picked up the deadly pale unresponsive body of little Arthur Dayne and hurried away. Barristan barked at his own two squires who were frozen and wide eyed as well to stand in front of the bloodied box and not leave until a Kingsguard returned to release them, and then he grabbed Rhaegar's wrist and followed his sworn brother.
--
“He didn't do anything.” Rhaegar repeated for the hundredth time, voice getting quieter and quieter as the silence from behind the closed doors of the Maester's chambers dragged on.
“I know he didn't, my Prince.” Barristan didn't know what else to do but assure him again and again that no one would even for a second think that polite and kind little Arthur Dayne held any ill will towards some random squires.
A maid had fetched a basin with warmed water for him and a cloth and he had set to help the young Prince clean his hands off of his best friend's blood right there in the corridor when Rhaegar had refused to leave until he knew something. Jonothor was standing guard and Lewyn was in the chamber with the Grand Maester.
“Why did they hurt him then? Why did they stab him, Ser Barristan?” Rhaegar wanted to know and looked up at him. It pained Barristan to see him so stricken with horror, the arrival of Arthur Dayne to court had had the always so serious prince in fits of laughter at times, even in public.
“I don't know, my Prince.” He had to tell him, feeling guilty over not having a better answer when indigo eyes got lowered again, “What happened when you came back?”
“They ran away, they just dropped him and ran away.” Rhaegar explained and then wiped his still wet hands dry on his pants, Barristan set the basin onto a table that stood nearby and dropped the bloodied cloth into it.
“We should have them found.” Jonothor mentioned and Barristan nodded but was delayed from forming a reply because the door of the Maester's chamber opened and he had to lunge to keep Rhaegar from running forward. Lewyn stepped out, hands clean as well again, face closed off but his eyes showed his worry nevertheless.
“You can go in, my Prince, but don't disturb the Grand Maester.”
Rhaegar was off like a cat and Lewyn turned his eyes onto Jonothor and Barristan, “He's gonna make it, but it was a very close call. They got him half a dozen times.” Jonothor flinched and Barristan closed his eyes to take a deep breath.
The gods have mercy on them all.
A kid. An innocent little boy.
So it was of course then that King Aerys arrived with his Master-of-ships, and both men looked horrified over what had happened. Barristan knew that though actual relations were more distant, Captain Velaryon considered Arthur Dayne to be his nephew, he was not just his younger brother's squire, and accordingly he was worried sick. Behind the Captain's legs, little Aurane Waters looked even more frightened than Rhaegar, what a terrible timing for the kid to visit his father in the capital.
Pushing past Lewyn to get to where Maester Pycelle was tending to Arthur's seemingly endless wounds, Lucerys frowned and pushed a hand through bloodied pale hair. Prince Rhaegar was watching every move like a hawk from where he was perched on a chair in the corner. Aurane silently walked to his side and reached out with one hand to hold onto Rhaegar's sleeve.
„Can somebody make sense of this now?“ King Aerys snarled and glared down his Kingsguard, almost all of them were present, only Gerold and Gwayne were still with the Queen and her Ladies, though Barristan knew Jonothor had sent a squire to tell them to return. The Queen would want to know, she was fond of the boy. As was the King, though Barristan couldn't really make sense of it still. Not with him.
Maybe it was just because Arthur kept Rhaegar from burrying himself in the library all day.
“The Prince has told us that the squires of Ser Gerold and Ser Gwayne attacked young Arthur Dayne in the stables while Prince Rhaegar was searching for the stablemaster.” Barristan explained calmly, Aerys' jaw ticked and he walked into the Maester's room without another word. The King zeroed in on his son who only reluctantly drew his eyes away from Arthur, little Aurane made himself even smaller.
“Someone should go and tell Gerold and Gwayne, they'll need a warning before they return.” Jonothor noted quietly while they stood outside the room. Barristan looked to Harlan who was thoughtfully looking over the King questioning his son and Captain Lucerys standing by while the Grand Maester fussed over his charge.
“Lewyn, Barristan, Oswell, you stay here.” Harlan decided, he was the one holding command in Gerold's absence, “Jon, you're with me, we'll send someone to alert Gerold and Gwayne and then round up the household guards, I want those squires found.” He turned on the spot and made away, Jonothor following him on quick feet.
“Why him?” Oswell asked when they were left alone, eyes on the corridor and on the proceedings inside the room where Rhaegar was telling his father what had happened. “He is the most polite quiet kid I have ever met. Best manners, shyest nature.”
“And the biggest talent for the sword that I have ever seen.” Lewyn pointed out as well, “And he is not just any boy, he is a Dayne of Starfall. With the skill he is showing already at this age, having carried steel at just eight namedays, there is a white sword waiting for him in the future. And that can bring along a great envy.”
“Arthur Dayne is not the Sword of the Morning, he is a boy of ten.” Oswell argued, as the youngest in their ranks, he was often tasked with guarding the Prince and his friends, youth brought the most stamina in running around after boys intending to dodge their shadows. It had also brought Oswell a little bit of Prince Rhaegar's trust which was not an easy thing to come by.
“He also put down every Kingsguard squire in the Red Keep. Children can be cruel.” Barristan sighed and winced when Arthur whimpered on the stone slab and Rhaegar actually shoved his father out of the way to get to him.
--
“My Prince, I am begging you to open the door.”
It was not every day that you walked into Maegor's Holdfast and found yourself presented with Ser Oswell Whent begging at a closed door. Or Oswell really begging at anyone, those sharp eyes and bright smirks had a tendency to charm everyone until the man showed his dark sense of humor.
Behind his sworn brother, Barristan saw a young acolyte standing with a basket full of remedies and fresh linen bandages for the young injured boy who had been placed in the Prince's private chamber on Rhaegar's nondebatable insistence.
“What's going on here?” Barristan wanted to know, he had been found by Oswell's squire in the White Sword Tower and been asked by the lad to come to the children's corridor in Maegor's Holdfast where only one Prince lived. Oswell grunted and turned to face him.
“He's not opening the door, says he won't until they stopped hurting the Dayne boy.” Oswell gave in explanation, eyes shifting towards the young acolyte behind him.
Barristan closed his eyes and resisted the urge to pinch his nose, save him the stubborness of dragons, how the King couldn't see that the boy was undeniably his son was a puzzle for him. Only the son could be as stubborn as the father.
When he opened his eyes again and made another few last steps closer, he caught sight of another figure in the corridor, silver-grey tunic and intricately stitched doublet in seagreen, Jacaerys Velaryon gave him a thin lipped smile. The boy had arrived back with his father and his little bastard brother when Lucerys had come back from Driftmark, and though he was a bit older than both the Prince and Arthur Dayne, the boy had been seen with the boys often in the last days, skinny little Aurane scurrying after them.
“I tried.” Lucerys' secondborn son answered the question before Barristan could have asked, “I'm here to grab Aurane, he's supposed to come down to the harbor with me to look at the new ships but...” And the boy of five and ten finished by waving a hand towards the closed door. The corridor with the children's chambers was protected more than almost any other part of the Royal apartments, no secret passages, no tricks to force doors open.
Unless they managed to convince Rhaegar to open the door, he would soon find himself without one.
Barristan motioned for Oswell to step aside and took up position in front of the wooden chamber door, “Your Grace, this silly game is over. Arthur's wounds need attention, and the acolytes are not hurting him on intention. That is how this healing goes, the wound dressing can hurt when it is being changed.”
His answer was a short clipped, “no” from directly the other side of the door and smart boy, knew exactly that when he was sitting right there no one would even dare think about breaking down the door. The danger of hurting the Prince was too great.
And the gossipers called the boy weak.
He was too smart for his own good.
“Rhaegar, I won't repeat myself.”
“Then I don't have to repeat myself either.”
Barristan blew a breath out between his teeth and cursed himself for not having seen this coming and talked Gerold into placing a guard inside the Prince's chambers. Rhaegar had already hissed at people touching Arthur when the boy had still been in the Maester's chamber under close observation.
“Okay, let me phrase this differently. If Arthur's wounds are not properly treated, they might become infected and he might catch a fever. A many great men have died terribly that way, my Prince, and though small warrior he may be, Arthur is just a boy.” Barristan argued and recoiled from the door in the next moment when an almost real sounding growl came from behind the wood.
“He is not just a boy.” Rhaegar snarled and Oswell had the nerve to snicker, “He is my friend. And I will not let anybody hurt my friends.”
“Even your friends can get infected, my Prince.” Barristan reasoned and wrecked his head for any other possible way to get this discussion over with. Unless they found someone crazy enough to scale the outside wall of Maegor's Holdfast, there was no other way into that room.
“Arthur doesn't have a fever, his wounds aren't warm to the touch. I know what infections look like, Ser Barristan. We are taking good care of him.” Rhaegar bit back at him and it was nearly staggering how much the boy could finally show the spine he had, Aerys called the boy weak and too bookish, but even though there had never been doubt for Barristan, this boy here was clearly a dragon.
One who had grown teeth, claws and wings when his best friend had gotten so terribly assaulted.
Before he could come up with any other solutions though, there was a quiet voice in the room, too faint for Barristan to make out the words and then light steps moving towards the door and a high pitched voice failing in whispering to Rhaegar, clearly the still very much boyish voice of little Aurane.
It was also him who addressed the outside world next.
“Ser Barristan, a knight of the Kingsguard knows how to treat wounds on the battlefield, does he not?” Aurane Waters wanted to know and his voice sounded trembling enough that he boy had either recently cried or was in the process of doing so. Even more alarming, the kid had a backbone out of Valyrian Steel, cared not an ounce for the looks that followed him as a bastard son of one of the most respected men in Westeros.
“Aye, he does. I do know how to treat wounds on the battlefield.”
And the not whispering went on.
“Please, Rhaegar, please let him come in and look at Arthur. I'm scared, I don't want Arthur to die.” Aurane was begging and the boy was also clearly crying and Rhaegar let out the sound of a wounded animal. For a boy who had never had any living siblings long enough to really interact with them, who had in turn also shyed away from other children, the prince had almost alarmingly quickly latched onto Arthur Dayne, and both boys were in some way fond of their new little friend.
And if Barristan could recall anything about the Velaryon bastard, then that he had round big eyes that looked positively heartshattering if filled with tears.
And then came the words that could have opened steel doors under Rhaegar's bare hands.
“You're scaring Arthur.” Spoken by the shaking voice of Aurane Waters and Barristan could hear Rhaegar scrambling to his feet so quickly that his bones ached in sympathy. The door got unlocked and opened just a split bit, Rhaegar's eyes hard enough to bring men to their knees, they reminded Barristan of his grandfather who had been underestimated and called weak his entire life and used it to cover his cleverness.
“Only you, Ser Oswell and Jace. The acolyte goes.”
Wordlessly Oswell held out a hand for the acolyte's basket, eyes getting sharper when the young man hesitated to do so for a moment. Jacaerys walked right past him and followed Barristan into the Prince's private chambers when Rhaegar finally let go of the door.
Aurane, red-eyed and cheeks still wet, stretched up arms to his brother immediately and Barristan noted how Rhaegar looked ashamed of himself but also still very much determined when he slammed the door into the acolyte's face the second Oswell was through.
Contrary to what Barristan had feared the room was full of fresh air and still dimmed light, thin curtains drawn in front of the windows to keep out the harsh sunlight. Over in the thick canopy bed, Arthur Dayne was propped up by some pillows, tiredly looking them over, but Barristan also noted that he didn't look as sickly pale anymore already and his eyes were free of any signs of fever.
Alright then.
Barristan sighed and took off the white cloak and parts of the armor, wound dressing changing would not be made easier by armguards.
“You'll be careful, won't you?” Rhaegar wanted to know quietly and Barristan smiled at him, patting his shoulder as he moved over to the bed.
“Of course.”
--
When all was done and over, Barristan had the distinct feeling that he was gonna be called upon again to tend to the young Prince's friend for Arthur had only whimpered and not outright screamed in pain when the bandages had been taken from his chest and stomach.
And then he had been roped into stories because a pair of seagreen eyes in tears was already pushing at his limits but added to that begging indigo eyes and dulled violet ones who never asked for anything...of course he had told them about the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
--
The first time Arthur returned to his training many weeks after the incident, Rhaegar turned up with him, scrolls in one hand, feather and ink in the other as he sat down on a bench in the shadow of a tree. Arthur walked over to Ser Laeno and Lewyn without meeting anyone's eyes, still pale and seemingly thinner than before but not less determined to get back on with his training.
The squires who had hurt him were all gone, banned from court under the King's personal order, though Barristan had the feeling a young Prince might have actually shown his hidden temper again to convince his father of what he wanted. No one at court was left who didn't know about the Prince's protectiveness of the young Dornish boy now.
Those who dared to raise their eyebrows over it were met with a seething glare from fiery indigo eyes and never did it again. Those two wouldn't be separated again so fast, Arthur stuck to Rhaegar's back and they looked out for each other more than ever before.
Barristan hated that children that young mistrusted so many people in what was supposed to be their home. One and ten, and it was already obvious that Prince Rhaegar only truly trusted one person and one person only, young Arthur Dayne.
And that it went both ways was obvious anyway.
Having reached his mentoring knight and Lewyn, Arthur sent a look over to Rhaegar who was busy rolling out his scrolls on the bench but immediately looked up when he felt his friend's eyes on him. Rhaegar looked around and then nodded at Arthur who in turn looked up at Ser Laeno and held out a hand for his sword.
--
Two quiet boys. A bookish prince and a shy knight to be.
Those was what the people saw in them back then.
What Barristan had seen even then was entirely different. Two friends who were loyal to each other beyond imagination, who trusted no one but each other, who knew exactly how the game was running and who would not leave the other to survive in it alone.
A dragon who didn't want to be a dragon. And a star who shone brighter than he wanted to.
It had been fate.