Not oft did Alwyn go against his Lord, Runar Targaryeņ.

Since Alwyn had become a man grown, he had sworn to serve as not but his knight, but his friend and confidant. He had always felt it was his duty to serve, to be a voice of reason but never truly disobey. Many times did he go against himself to follow orders.

Yet, with war on the horizon, Alwyn could not sit idle. It was not what honour demanded, what his heart sung for. The call to choose sides of the crown had come for Runar — and in turn, Alwyn. And yet, the Lord of Runestone had denied it. Denied both sides, proclaiming neutrality, much to Alwyns own horror. For he knew his friend loathed his family, especially his father. Yet he did not think it would come it this, never to this.

He’s begged the man to see reason. To defend the true claim of Rhaenyra. Would it not been what his mother would want, a woman herself who had ruled Runestone? Or perhaps Lady Jeyne Arryn, who’d cared for Runar? Who was close (much too close) to Alwyns own mother? To defend women of the realm who had true claims. Yet the anger and resentment Runar had was too deep to see such reason. In the anger, even Alwyn had called the other a coward for his stance.

For simply the fact he would not sit idle while the war was upon their doorstep, and watch dragon fire and bloodshed alike. He’d heard word his brother— Warrek, Lord of Redfort— had declared for the Queen. And so? In the aftermath of the explosive argument, the knight could think of nothing better than to put himself to proper use. Runar surely would not forgive him for leaving Runestone and returning homeward bound. His late father wouldn’t either. Runar had been his squire, had been trained by the man.

Alwyn was sure that his father favoured the boy much more than him, had encouraged him to stay by the boys side when he couldn’t. Not when sickness took him swift. He’d honoured that vow. Had done all he could for Runar.

But this war would take. It would take women, and children, and those innocent of the crimes of kinslaying and usurpation. Alwyn had sworn to protect, and so he’d taken upon horseback in the night, had ridden as fast as his steed would let him. He’d made it to his brother at their ancestral seat by daybreak.

”I intend to pledge myself to Queen Rhaenyra”, He had told him, sweat soaked and exhausted from the long, treacherous road. A several days trip he’d surmised over night. Warrek had not seemed displeased, yet he did question— ”And what of Runar?”

Alwyn had merely remarked—

”Runar is a man grown. He can care for himself.”

And it is what the Lord would have to do. When this was over, Alwyn would come plead for forgiveness. Perhaps it would even be enough to persuade the other to join the Queen’s side. For now, however?

Alwyn would made haste to Dragonstone. If the Queen would take him, he had every intention of serving her and her kin— to protect not but her family, but Runar’s as well. Perhaps the man could not see the logic in it now, but he shall pray to the seven that his closest friend will in time. And in time, forgive such a transgression.