The Battle of Rook’s Rest had been demanding and ruthless, Gwayne didn’t even truly fight. He mainly stood on the sidelines with Ser Criston Cole but the sight of dragons battling in the sky, and knights burning on the ground begging for mercy was terrifying. 

Gwayne was glad to be walking back to his guest chambers, simply wanting to remove all his armor and sleep until the war ended. He opened the heavy doors, greeted by the sight of you staring out the window, silver hair flowing from the breeze. He observed the sorrowful expression painted on your face. It made you look older than you were. 

“I want to go to Dragonstone.” Gwayne could not help the sigh that escaped his lips when your words hit his ears. He knew how hard this was for you—essentially kept captive by his nephew, Aegon, to stop you from fighting for your sister, Rhaenyra. The Greens had the upper hand now. It would be idiotic to let you go. 

“You know that cannot happen, my princess.” said the knight, removing the bulky armor confining him. How easy it would've been for you to escape to your dragon if Aegon hadn't posted guards in every hall of the keep.