LOVE OUT OF LUST | (listen here) ”he didn’t have you first. no one has. because you are a free spirit that cannot be caged, cannot be tamed. i may say something like ‘i want to touch your soul’, but really, we should just dance while we still can.”
i. terrible love - the national | ii. sun - two door cinema club | iii. love out of lust - lykke li | iv. pompeii - bastille | v. you and i - wilco | vi. window blues - lykke li | vii. skeletons - of monsters and men (yeah yeah yeahs cover) | viii. no voice was raised - the castanets | ix. hospital bed - florence + the machine | x. the coldharbour road - stornoway
Title : Love Out Of Lust
Pairing : Lyanna Stark / Arthur Dayne
Rating : T for the time being (I guess ?)
Chapter : 2/?
Synopsis : At first, she says yes, because it is easier than no. And it doesn’t disappoint people, most of the time. She has grown tired of it - the shadow of disappointment when she looks into people’s eyes.Note : This might be the only Arthur’s POV of this fic - I don’t know yet. I have a hard time writing male character, so we’ll see how things go.
Title : Love Out Of Lust
Pairing : Lyanna Stark / Arthur Dayne
Rating : T for the time being (I guess ?)
Chapter : 1/?
Synopsis : At first, she says yes, because it is easier than no. And it doesn’t disappoint people, most of the time. She has grown tired of it - the shadow of disappointment when she looks into people’s eyes.Note : This is a modern au where everybody lives and no one is happy.
it’s physical imitations, down to the very end. his stupid sword and those ruddy roses. she knows that she doesn’t love him, but maybe she could have. chivalry had always rubbed her the wrong way. but as she’s dying, it’s arthur she thinks of, not the choices she made that got her here, and she hopes that when her brother kills him, they’ll melt down his sword. that’s enough. that makes her smile. she can smell metal. soon after, she’s dead. yes, she could have loved him.
happy (belated) birthday, Kimberly!
but i’m alone with you | an arthur dayne/lyanna stark fanmix
(fanmix and graphic by summerhall, fonts by the magnificent thestarkinwinterfell)
delicate - damien rice | we might live like never before / when there’s nothing to give / well how can we ask for more?
circadian - david cook | the fall of who we are is getting closer / and i’m just holding on until it’s over / mayday / somebody save me now / i’m cutting all ties from the world outside / cause it’s over my head / it’s all coming undone / and falling apart somehow / and i’m closing my eyes cause once the sun rises / it’s out of my hands
no sound but the wind - editors | we can never go home / we no longer have one / i’ll help you carry the load / i’ll carry you in my arms / the kiss of the snow / the crescent moon above us / our blood is cold / and we’re alone / but i’m alone with you
eyes of grace - enation | i’ve got nothing left but you tonight / i’ll give you everything i am / just give me every part of you / don’t leave me now / don’t fail me now / you’re all i see / you’re everything
princess - lee dewyze | do you remember us sleeping on the floor / talking ‘bout how things were before / who will save you now? / who can show you how to love again?
volcano - damien rice | what i am to you is not real / what i am to you, you do not need / what i am to you is not what you mean to me / you give me miles and miles of mountains / and i’ll ask for the sea / i kissed your mouth / you do not need me
old faces - sons of jim | but you curse distance in a harsh instance / burning inside for so long / and the old life story and your synthetic former glories / memories were true just don’t belong / and the old faces disappear without traces / and you’re so sure and now it’s gone / so long
He always cleans Dawn in her chambers, at the very top of the tower, on the balcony overlooking the never-ending red mountains. He keeps her company with stories of Starfall, his brothers and sisters, his adventures as a knight, and Rhaegar. She counters with stories of Winterfell, her brothers, her adventures pretending to be a knight, and Rhaegar.
Most of those he knows, having stood silently by the prince’s side for most of their relationship- from Harrenhal to the escape from the North, to the secret wedding in front of the burned weirwood at Summerhall, to Dorne. But he was all but invisible then. Just the sworn shield, the white knight in the background, worthy only of a cursory glance before all attention is focused on the prince.
The prince dies, her stomach swells, and suddenly Arthur Dayne isn’t invisible anymore.
—-
She walks the steps in the tower, down and up and down again, until her belly grows large and Ser Gerold forbids it. She paces her chambers then, walking every inch over and over again in dizzying circles.
Arthur walks with her in the last months, one of his hands holding her’s and the other on the small of her back. She moves slowly, a pace she’s neither accustomed to or fond of. He distracts her by talking, by making her laugh. He tells her embarrassing stories of his Kingsguard brothers, mostly of Oswell, easy target that he is, and of the time Allyria shore off Ashara’s hair while she slept.
He doesn’t have the heart to tell her about Ashara and Ned’s baby when she asks. There’s only so much death and sorrow a person can endure.
The raven comes from King’s Landing two days later. The Lord Commander reads it to her through clenched teeth, deep and suddering breaths puncuating each sentence. She says nothing, only nods once he’s done. Even Oswell is speechless. Arthur goes hunting that evening, killing everything in sight and resupplying them for the next several months.
When he gets back, he spends his first night in Lyanna Stark’s bed. They lie on their backs and stare up at the ceiling, a foot and a half of empty air seperating them. He lies with eyes wide open and listens to her sob.
Sometime in the night she reaches into the space between them. He takes her hand.
—-
He holds her hand while she gives birth. He holds her hand as she screams and curses, gasps and gnashes her teeth in pain, and brings the new king into the world.
He holds her hand and strokes the sweat-soaked hair from her too-warm forehead. She smiles and calls him Rhaegar, and it’s only then that he sees the blood. He doesn’t correct her.
He holds her hand as Oswell announces the riders, seven of them, Stark men, her brother leading the way. Lyanna doesn’t stir at the sound. The Lord Commander places the wailing king beside her on the bed, and still she doesn’t stir.
She stirs when he lets go. She reaches for him, weakly and blindly, and begs him to stay. Her lips move over the words, and in his mind he can hear her voice- her loud and boisterous voice booming over the roar of the sea as they sail down from the North, as she tells inappropriate jokes at dinner, as she told him not a month past that he was the best friend she’d ever had. She speaks softly now, barely making any sound.
“I’ll only be a moment, my lady. I’ll be right back.” He kisses her fingers and rests them on the bundle of her son. “I promise I’ll be back.”
Arthur Dayne goes down the tower and doesn’t come back up.
