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A World of Death Chapter 42 — Arthur Dies
🕑 Added 2025-12-23 11:21:27 +0000 UTC
A tense moment passed as Arthur and Rhaella stared at each other across the bed, both of them frozen while fear coursed through their veins, though for reasons that differed greatly between them. Rhaella's chest rose and fell rapidly from the lingering effects of the climax he had unwittingly given her, her mind racing with the realization that a stranger had entered her chambers in the dead of night. Arthur's heart pounded with the terror of discovery, his body tensed as he waited for her next move, knowing that one shout from her lips would summon the Kingsguard and seal his fate.
Rhaella drew a breath her mouth opening as she prepared to call for help, the word forming on her tongue. Arthur saw the intent in her eyes and knew his life hung by a thread; if she screamed, guards would burst through the door within moments, and no explanation would save him from the executioners blade or the noose. Panic propelled him forward; he pounced onto the bed desperately, one hand clamping firmly over her mouth to muffle the cry that began to escape her throat while his other arm pinned her shoulders against the pillows.
"I am sorry," he whispered urgently as he leaned close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "I swear I do not want to hurt you, please believe me but I thought you were my wife, I never meant to touch you inappropriately."
Rhaella struggled beneath his grip, her body twisting as she attempted to free herself, her free hand striking at his arm while her legs kicked against the covers that tangled around them. She pushed at his chest with surprising force for her slight frame, her nails scraping against his skin through the thin fabric of his tunic, and muffled sounds escaped against his palm as she tried to shout despite the barrier.
Arthur held her down with care that avoided causing pain, his weight distributed so she could still breathe freely, but confusion and desperation warred within him. He had no clue what to do next, he had ruined everything so thoroughly that fleeing across the Sunset Sea to the farthest reaches of the world might be the only way to escape the king's wrath if word of this reached King Aegon. They would hunt him relentlessly, and no corner of Westeros would be safe.
He needed to calm her down, Arthur realized, shifting his approach as he kept one hand over her mouth while the other moved to her shoulder. He began to knead the tense muscles there with fingers that drew on his [Massage] skill, applying pressure in circles that eased knots he found beneath the skin. Each stroke released tension in ways that spread warmth through her body, and Rhaella's struggles lessened gradually as involuntary moans vibrated against his palm.
Her kicks slowed, her hand that had struck at him falling to the mattress while her body relaxed despite herself, the sensations overwhelming her resistance as pleasure replaced her fight or flight. Arthur continued the massage along her neck, thumbs pressing gently into points that drew deeper sighs from her, until her eyes fluttered half-closed and her breathing calmed into something closer to contentment.
"I swear by all the gods, old and new," Arthur whispered earnestly once her movements had stilled, "I am not here to hurt you. If you will just listen, I can explain everything, I beg you, give me that chance."
Rhaella narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion lingering amid the haze of relaxation that his touch had induced, but after a long moment she nodded reluctantly against his hand. Arthur sighed in relief, his shoulders sagging slightly as he slowly drew his hand away from her mouth.
Rhaella drew another breath and screamed.
“HEL—“
Arthur's hand clamped back over her lips in an instant, muffling the sound before it could carry beyond the chamber. "Oh come on," he complained, frustration and pleading mixing in his voice, "give me a break, please."
Rhaella looked up at him then, her eyes catching his exasperated expression, and a spark of humor flickered through her despite the situation. She relaxed again beneath his hold, her body no longer fighting.
Arthur searched her face desperately. "Please," he begged quietly, "let me explain. I will not hurt you I swear it."
After another tense pause, Rhaella nodded once more.
Arthur hesitated, then asked carefully, "Will you scream again if I let go?"
She shook her head slowly.
Arthur drew his hand away gradually, watching her closely as he sat back on his heels. Rhaella kept her word and she pushed herself upright against the headboard, pulling the covers around her with composure that returned swiftly. Arthur exhaled a deep breath of relief, his body sagging as tension drained from him. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Rhaella regarded him for a moment. "Would you mind getting off me now?" she asked, one eyebrow arching slightly.
Arthur's eyes widened in realization, he still knelt over her on the bed and he scrambled backward hastily. "Of course, Princess," he stammered, nearly tumbling off the edge in his rush to give her space as he stood beside the bed raising his hands innocently.
Rhaella sat up fully, crossing her legs beneath the covers while her nightdress shifted around her. The garment that was made of sheer silk that caught the moonlight in pale glimmers also left her shoulders and much of her legs on display as the fabric draped loosely over her form. She fixed him with a stern gaze, her silver-gold hair falling in waves around her face.
"Explain," she commanded calmly despite the fact a stranger was still in her room. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my chambers in the middle of the night?"
Arthur kept his distance, careful not to approach the bed again while he chose his words with caution. He was not foolish enough to give his true name in case the encounter ended badly. "My wife resides within the Red Keep," he began carefully, "and for the past few days I have attempted to contact her through the gates, leaving messages that the guards promised to deliver. But I realised they lied and after that they turned me away each time, claiming no knowledge or time for such matters. I felt this was the only option left to reach her."
Rhaella's expression remained impassive as she listened. "Your plan was to sneak into one of the most heavily guarded places in Westeros," she said.
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "In hindsight, it was a foolish plan," he admitted. "I see that now."
"What made you come to this chamber specifically?" Rhaella asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.
"I cannot explain it fully," Arthur replied honestly, backing up a step to let more moonlight illuminate his features. "I just had a feeling she was here, a pull I followed through the hidden passages."
Rhaella's eyes widened slightly as the light revealed his face more clearly. The man before her bore an uncanny resemblance to Mira—the same shape of the eyes, the line of the jaw, the blonde hair that fell across his forehead. If Mira were a man, Rhaella imagined this was exactly what she would look like. Realization dawned swiftly… this had to be Arthur, Mira's husband, the one she spoke of with such devotion. In hindsight, she should have known, Mira had insisted he would come for her, and reports of the carnage at Willem's manse suggested a man willing to do anything to reunite with her. Yet Rhaella had expected someone taller, more rugged, not this boyishly handsome figure who stood awkwardly in her chamber. One strange aspect was also the fact that they looked so similar… they could be cousins, but Rhaella had a feeling that wasn’t the case.
She put that to the back of her mind however as she wondered what to do next. The proper course would be to call for Mira immediately, to reunite them and end the separation that had caused so much pain. That would be right and kind. Yet a part of her found the situation amusing and she felt owed a measure of payback for the startle and the intimate touching of her womanhood.
Rhaella huffed softly, drawing his attention back. "It is a serious crime to enter a princess's chambers uninvited," she informed him sternly, "and not only to touch me but to hold me down as well, and drug me with whatever substance made my head fuzzy. The penalty for such offenses is death, even for lords of high standing." She knew he hadn’t drugged her, but it was funny watching him squirm at that.
Arthur paled visibly, dropping to one knee. "I apologise profoundly for touching you," he said quickly. "I thought you were my wife in the darkness, and I can assure you I never drugged you or intended harm."
Rhaella tilted her head, feigning skepticism. "I find that hard to believe," she replied. "Perhaps I should call for the guards now and let them sort the truth."
Arthur's face drained of color further, panic flashing in his eyes. "Please, no," he begged, hands clasped before him. "I will do anything to make up for my crimes—anything you ask."
"Only execution can make up for it," Rhaella said gravely, though a joke lay beneath her words that Arthur could not detect.
He looked torn, his gaze darting toward the hidden door as if weighing escape, then to the balcony where a long drop awaited, and finally back to her with desperation that bordered on resignation. A part of him considered throwing himself from the height to end the stupidity he had brought upon himself.
"Or," Rhaella continued, placing a finger on her chin in mock thoughtfulness, "you could prove that you never drugged me. If you convince me of that, I may be willing to show leniency."
Arthur looked up sharply, hope flickering amid the fear. "What would you have me do?" he asked cautiously.
Rhaella hid a smile behind her hand, composing her features into sternness once more. "Massage me again," she instructed. "Properly this time, so I can judge if it was truly your touch and not the work of some nefarious drug."
Arthur agreed hesitantly, suspicion lingering that it would not end well, but he approached the bed wall the same. Rhaella stopped him before he could climb on, placing her small foot against his chest to halt his advance.
"You cannot get onto my bed dressed like that," she said firmly. "Your clothes carry dust and sweat from outside. Remove them first."
"I do not have other clothes with me," he explained.
Rhaella waved away the concern. "It is fine," she replied. "There is a bowl of water by the dresser for washing, and I have a spare nightdress in the drawer that should fit you well enough."
Arthur hesitated for a long moment, staring at her in disbelief. "You are serious?" he asked finally.
Rhaella adopted her sternest impression, lifting her chin. "Do you make a habit of questioning your princess?" she demanded. Perhaps it was a little far making him wear one of her nightdresses, but he should learn his lesson. Had she been any other member of the family he likely would’ve been cut down by a Kingsguard by now.
"No, no," Arthur said hastily, turning toward the dresser. "I am going."
He placed his pack and cloak down carefully, then moved to the bowl where fresh water waited with a cloth beside it. Nervousness gripped him as he began to undress under her watchful gaze, removing his tunic and trousers until he stood in smallclothes. He could feel her eyes on him the entire time.
"Must you watch?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"I have to ensure you do nothing nefarious," Rhaella replied smoothly, though amusement danced in her eyes.
Arthur sighed and continued washing the sweat from his body, then opened the drawer she indicated and retrieved the nightdress which was a flowing garment of soft silk meant for her own use. It would fit tightly on his broader frame, but it would cover him. "Really?" he muttered, holding it up.
Rhaella's stern facade held. "Put it on," she said.
Arthur complied, pulling the nightdress over his head where it clung to his shoulders and fell to mid-thigh. He caught his reflection in the vanity mirror across the room… a grown man in women's silk… a part of him died inside at the sight. Though he could only blame his own stupidity for landing in this position. He turned back toward the bed, walking carefully while Rhaella watched with a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle laughter that threatened to escape. Arthur noticed the twitch of her lips. "Did you laugh?" he asked warily.
"No," Rhaella said quickly, composing herself. "Now get to work."
She moved back onto the bed, settling against the pillows with her legs stretched out. Arthur climbed on carefully, kneeling beside her as he began the massage at her feet, his hands working with the same mastery that had affected her before. Each press of his fingers into her arches drew soft moans from her lips immediately, her body turning pliant under his touch as tension melted away.
He progressed to her calves and thighs, kneading muscles that relaxed completely while she sighed in contentment. Moving upward to her arms and shoulders, he applied pressure that released knots she had not realized she carried, and Rhaella found herself in pure bliss, her eyes closing as waves of relaxation spread through her. She thought fleetingly how lucky Mira was to receive such treatment regularly, for she had never experienced a massage that compared—it felt as though her body turned to liquid under his hands.
Yet arousal built alongside the relaxation, a heat that gathered in her belly despite the climax from earlier. This was dangerous, she realized. Mira's husband touched her in ways that stirred desire she had not expected, and she wanted nothing more than for his hands to venture further, to explore her most intimate places. She could feel his manhood pressing against her leg through the silk, evidence that touching her body affected him as well.
Rhaella summoned all her will and spoke. "S-Stop," she said while her voice cracked slightly.
Arthur halted immediately, concern crossing his face. "Are you all right?" he asked, pulling his hands away.
Rhaella panted slightly, her thighs slick with arousal while need pulsed through her. No, she was not all right—she wanted the man to do things to her that she like make a Septa kneel down and start praying to the Father. "Could you bring me a glass of water?" she managed, pointing toward the pitcher on a side table.
Arthur nodded quickly and rose to fetch it, he poured water from the pitcher into a silver cup with hands that still trembled slightly from the ordeal, the liquid splashing faintly as he handed it to Rhaella. She accepted it with a grateful nod, her fingers brushing his briefly while she brought the cup to her lips and drank deeply.
"Thank you, Arthur," Rhaella said calmly, using his name with deliberate as she set the cup aside.
Arthur froze in place, shock and terror flooding his features while his eyes widened at the sound of his own name from her lips. He backed up a step instinctively, his mind racing as he questioned how she could possibly know it when he had withheld it carefully. “How do you know my name?" he asked with alarm while he glanced toward the hidden door ready to run.
Rhaella smirked slightly, amusement dancing in her violet eyes as she leaned back against the pillows. "Did you think your wife would not tell me all about you?" she replied. "She is my greatest friend here, closer than any lady at court. Mira speaks of you often, with love that shines through every word."
Arthur stared at her for a long moment, realization dawning slowly. "You’re Princess Rhaella?! Wait so you knew the whole time?" he said, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and frustration.
Rhaella stifled a laugh behind her hand, her shoulders shaking faintly with mirth that she could no longer fully contain. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, moodiness settling over him as embarrassment burned in his cheeks. Rhaella watched him with open amusement, her earlier fear replaced by enjoyment of the situation she had turned to her advantage.
"You deserved it," she said finally. "For touching my womanhood without invitation, for startling me awake in such a way. No man has ever touched me there before, Arthur, you are the first to have touched it. I felt owed some payback for the fright and the intimacy you took by mistake."
Arthur felt embarrassment deepen, his face flushing as he looked away toward the window where moonlight continued to spill across the floor. The ordeal left him wishing the ground would swallow him, dressed as he was in her nightdress while a princess teased him for actions born of stupidity.
Rhaella's expression softened then. "I am sorry if I took it a little far," she said sincerely. "It was just a little fun at your expense. Do not worry I will not call the guards or tell anyone of this night. But I will inform Mira that you are here and alive. She deserves to know without delay."
Arthur turned back to her, a relieved smile breaking through the embarrassment as gratitude filled him. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "Truly. I am happy beyond words to see her again."
He moved toward the dresser then, intent on changing back into his own clothes that lay folded nearby. Rhaella stopped him with a raised hand. "Hide behind the vanity for a moment," she instructed quietly. "I’ll speak to the guard at my door and tell him to summon Mira."
Arthur nodded quickly and slipped behind the ornate vanity that stood against one wall, crouching among the scattered perfumes and brushes while he waited. The main door opened moments later, and he heard the Kingsguard's voice from the corridor.
"Is everything okay, Your Grace?" the man asked.
"Yes," Rhaella replied smoothly. "The night passes peacefully. I just wished to ask if you’d summon Mira to my quarters I have important matters for her to discuss."
While he was hidden, Arthur’s eyes had wandered across the vanity's surface until they settled on a strange clear crystal shard that rested among her jewelry. He felt strange as he looked at it, an inexplicable pull that drew his hand forward despite the risk. His fingers brushed the surface, and a sharp shock jolted through him like static from wool, accompanied by a flash that flickered behind his eyes with images that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
Arthur frowned, rubbing his hand while confusion lingered, but curiosity won over caution. He reached out again, pushing past the shock that stung his skin, and grasped the shard firmly.
[Memory Shard Acquired]
The world dissolved around him suddenly, and Arthur found himself thrown somewhere else. He sat in a small room watching something he knew to be a television, that played in the background while his father lounged beside him on a worn couch. The man looked like Gormon, yet sickness had rounded his features and made him a lot fatter, he also seemed to have trouble reading.
"I am going to go read," Arthur heard himself say in a voice that belonged to him yet carried an accent he’d never heard before.
The memory shifted in flashes then.
First there were books stacked on a desk with covers depicting dragons and thrones as stories of Westeros filled his mind. Television screens showed scenes that played out like visions: Rhaella Targaryen standing in a grand hall, her hand joined with Aerys's in marriage while crowds cheered around them.
Dragon eggs in a cradle at Summerhall, surrounded by braziers that roared with wildfire intended to hatch them. Flames erupted suddenly, consuming the hall in a blaze that swallowed screams and turned stone to lava.
An older Rhaella appeared next, her face marked with bruises while Aerys loomed over her in rage, his hands striking her as she cowered.
Then it was War
Endless war
Battles across fields where armies clashed, rivers running red with blood, cities burning under dragonfire that scorched the sky. Five Kings all fighting for the throne. A monstrous man with two heads and the strength of a giant.
A King made of Ice and a world that never knows the warmth of the sun again.
“EAAHHGGHH.” Arthur screamed as the memories ejected him abruptly, Arthur seized on the floor of Rhaella's chamber, his body convulsing as pain lanced through his head and visions lingered like echoes. He gasped for air, hands clutching at the rug while the room spun around him, the crystal shard rolling from his grasp across the floorboards.
[Memory Shard Integrated]
[Past Life Skills Acquired]
Mathematics (56/100) (Adept)
Acrobatics (72/100) (Journeyman)
[Past Life Traits Acquired]
Ambidextrous
Hyper mobility
───────────────────────────────
[QUEST COMPLETED]
GOOD LUCK, PAL
───────────────────────────────
Description:
You stood one breath away from a headsman’s block.
Inside the private chambers of a Targaryen princess.
Putting your hands where they should never have been.
And yet somehow you walked out alive.
────────────────────────────────
Objectives:
➤ Escape the princess’s chambers alive ✅
➤ Convince Princess Rhaella to let you go ✅
Optional Objective:
➤ Finish what you started ❌
Rewards Earned:
• Otherworld Token
• +5 Luck
Optional Reward:
• Trait: Don Juan ❌
Failure Avoided:
• Execution
• Imprisonment
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(AN: The title is a little misleading, but he did die a little on the inside. Anyway Arthur has found his first memory shard of his past life and has witnessed parts of the future, specially tailored to Rhaella. Is that a coincidence? Maybe maybe not. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
Comments
Car Crash
Tyftc
IsekaiMePlease
❤️ Awesome thanks for this moment❤️ so bad, not climax for Princess
