He saw it long before you did.

He was Arthur Dayne, after all, the Sword of the Morning, greatest swordsman in all of the Seven Kingdoms — it would've been stupid to think he wouldn't see it coming.

The way Prince Oberyn lingered by your side throughout the festivities, the way the Dornishman's chocolate hues were always on you, watching with such intensity one could think he was trying to swallow you whole by just looking.

It had the famed swordsman's heart clenching inside his chest, palpitations that only happened during the frenzy of a fight, or when training with his other brothers in white got out of hand.

Arthur was no one to you, merely your sworn-sword, he was meant to protect you from all kinds of harms... but why was it that he was jealous of a man when he knew he'd never be anything more than your protector?

Maybe it had been the way you always treated him differently from others. You would treat Ser Barristan with respect, but you gave Arthur the warmest of smiles despite the way the knight remained as stoic and quiet most of the time. Yet, you always managed to get his lips to twitch with your words or merely your presence.

He was infatuated by you, and he despised it terribly.

Him, a loyal knight of the Kingsguard, in love with someone who he could not have nor think about touching.

It was no different tonight, when Rhaegar sent out invitations to all of the major houses in the Seven Kingdoms to celebrate the birth of princess Rhaenys, and, like usual, you looked absolutely stunning — you hardly didn't look like you belonged at court.

And yet, you weren't alone. Prince Oberyn wasn't far behind, hands placed behind his back and a charming smirk dancing across his features, as it often did. Arthur could only watch on, a frown set on his face, and he found himself stepping forward before he could think twice about it.

Bards sang a song, people danced across the halls, and he tapped you softly on the shoulder before offering his hand to you.

"May I have this dance, Your Grace?"