#firebound | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novaursa · 10 months ago

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Firebound

- Summary: King Viserys I reconsiders whom to give your hand in marriage.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Harwin Strong

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin sister of Rhaenyra, is bonded to a dragon and has striking resemblance to her grandmother, Alyssa. These events happen right after Chasing the Inferno. To read all chapters in chronological order, or more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 335

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The small council chambers, typically a place of solemn decisions and whispered intrigues, now felt unusually silent as the last of the lords took their leave. King Viserys I Targaryen, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the polished wood of the table, watched them go with only half an eye. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in a knot of confusion and reluctant acceptance.

As the heavy wooden doors closed behind the departing council members, only two figures remained in the room. The first, of course, was the king himself, his brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair. The second was Lord Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King, who was decidedly less relaxed. Lyonel's usual calm and thoughtful demeanor had slipped into something less certain. His hands clasped together tightly on the table before him, and his eyes shifted occasionally to the king, searching for a clue to the nature of this unexpected private audience.

Viserys let the silence stretch, giving him time to gather his thoughts. He knew he had to approach this conversation delicately, but the memory of what he had witnessed at Rhaenyra’s and Laenor’s wedding feast still played vividly in his mind. There had been laughter and merriment, to be sure, but his focus had been split. He had watched with the intent of a father seeking assurance for one daughter, only to find himself worried over another.

The way you and Harwin had slipped from the feast, the looks exchanged between the two of you, had been impossible to ignore. Viserys had spent too much of his attention on Rhaenyra, and now it seemed that you, his other daughter, posed a similar predicament. It was a problem he had not foreseen, though he supposed he should have. After all, you were Targaryen through and through, with the fire in your blood as surely as your twin sister. But fire, as Viserys well knew, was a tricky thing to control.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. "Lord Lyonel," he began, his tone far softer than it usually was in these chambers, "I find myself in need of counsel of a rather... delicate nature."

Lyonel’s eyes narrowed slightly, though he gave a courteous nod. "I am at your service, Your Grace, as always."

Viserys allowed himself a faint smile at the Hand’s careful response. "You are a wise man, Lyonel. A man of honor, integrity... and, I hope, discretion."

"Discretion is often the better part of honor, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. It was not often the king prefaced a conversation in such a way.

Viserys straightened in his chair, his gaze fixing firmly on Lyonel’s face. "Tell me, Lyonel... what is your opinion of my daughter? Y/N, that is."

There it was, the question that had been eating away at him. He saw the flicker of surprise in Lyonel’s eyes, quickly masked, but not quickly enough. It confirmed what he already suspected: Lyonel knew something.

"Princess Y/N is..." Lyonel hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "She is a lady of great spirit, much like her sister. She carries herself with the grace and strength one would expect of a Targaryen. She is... much admired."

"Admired," Viserys echoed, his voice carrying a subtle note of amusement. "Yes, I have seen as much."

Lyonel shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable under the king’s scrutiny. "Your Grace, if I may ask... what troubles you about the princess?"

Viserys considered his next words carefully. He could not afford to be blunt, not when the matter at hand was so precarious. But subtlety had never been his strong suit, and the memory of that stolen glance between you and Harwin gnawed at him.

"Lyonel, your son..." Viserys began, and immediately saw the flash of recognition in Lyonel’s eyes. "He is a good man. Strong, loyal, capable. A man who has served the crown well."

"Harwin is a good man," Lyonel agreed, though the tension in his voice was palpable now. "He is... devoted to his duties."

"Devoted, yes." Viserys leaned forward, lowering his voice. "And devoted, it seems, to my daughter."

Lyonel’s eyes widened slightly, but he did not speak. Viserys watched him, watched as the Hand’s thoughts churned behind his eyes, undoubtedly recalling every conversation he’d had with his son about this very matter. Lyonel had likely hoped this day would never come, but Viserys was not a man to ignore the truth when it was placed before him so plainly.

"Your Grace..." Lyonel began, his voice heavy with apprehension, "I assure you, whatever my son has done, it was never his intention to... to dishonor the princess."

Viserys held up a hand to stop him. "There is no dishonor in love, Lyonel. Not if it is true."

Lyonel blinked, clearly caught off guard. He had likely expected anger, outrage even, but Viserys had already fought that battle within himself. What remained now was a father’s desire to see his daughter happy—and safe.

"Your Grace..." Lyonel started again, more cautiously this time, "are you suggesting...?"

"I am," Viserys interrupted, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You once mentioned a potential match between Harwin and Y/N. At the time, I dismissed it. My mind was too focused on securing alliances, on ensuring the strength of the crown. But now... now I see the wisdom in what you proposed."

Lyonel stared at the king, clearly dumbfounded. It took him a moment to gather his wits. "Your Grace, are you certain? A match between Harwin and the princess... it is not what most would expect."

"Perhaps not," Viserys admitted with a soft chuckle. "But it is what I believe would be best. Harwin, if what you say is true, cares for her. And I have granted Rhaenyra the courtesy of choosing her own match... it would be unfair to deny Y/N the same."

Lyonel remained silent, his expression a mixture of shock and something close to relief. The king’s decision was a blessing he had not anticipated, a chance to save both his son and the princess from scandal and perhaps, just perhaps, to see them happy.

"Harwin will be... most honored, Your Grace," Lyonel finally managed, bowing his head deeply. "I did not expect... that is, I am surprised by your generosity."

"Generosity," Viserys mused, leaning back in his chair once more. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I am simply weary of the politics, of the endless games. My daughter’s happiness... it means more to me than any alliance."

Lyonel nodded, though he still seemed somewhat dazed by the turn of events. "I shall inform Harwin of your decision, Your Grace. I know it will bring him great joy."

"See that you do," Viserys said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "And Lyonel, if Harwin wishes to speak with me... to assure me of his intentions... he is welcome to do so."

"Of course, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, rising from his seat with a deep bow. "I shall see to it at once."

As Lyonel turned to leave, Viserys allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. The matter was settled, and while he knew that the path ahead would not be without its challenges, he felt a sense of peace. He had done right by his daughter—both of them, in fact.

As the door closed behind Lyonel, Viserys leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting to the future. There would be more battles to fight, more decisions to make, but for now, he could rest easy knowing that he had given his daughter a chance at happiness.

And perhaps, in the end, that was all a father could truly hope for.

Lyonel Strong left the small council chambers with a brisk pace, though the thoughts swirling in his head made his steps feel almost unsteady. The king’s words echoed in his ears, and the disbelief that had settled in his gut still gnawed at him. It was one thing to hope for an impossible outcome, quite another to have it handed to you by the king himself.

He moved through the Red Keep with purpose, nodding absently to those he passed, though his mind was entirely elsewhere. His destination was clear—he needed to find his son. Harwin had always been a steady rock, reliable and strong, but this... this news was bound to shake even him.

As Lyonel reached the courtyard, where Harwin often trained, the sound of steel clashing on steel rang out. Harwin was sparring with a few other men, his muscular form moving with the practiced ease of someone who had spent a lifetime wielding a sword. Lyonel paused for a moment, watching his son parry and strike with a fierce focus that made him proud, even now. But there was no time for fatherly admiration—this was a conversation that needed to happen immediately.

“Harwin,” Lyonel called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

Harwin disengaged from his sparring partner, wiping the sweat from his brow as he turned to see his father striding towards him. He handed his sword to one of the onlookers and moved to meet Lyonel, a curious smile on his face.

“Father,” Harwin greeted him, still catching his breath. “You seem... troubled.”

“Troubled?” Lyonel shook his head, though there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips now. “No, Harwin. Troubled is not the word. I’ve just come from the king.”

At this, Harwin’s expression shifted to one of concern. “The king? Is something amiss?”

Lyonel sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Not in the way you think. But it concerns you, and the princess.”

Harwin stiffened slightly, a wariness creeping into his eyes. “What about the princess?”

Lyonel took a deep breath, knowing that his son was not going to believe what he was about to say. “The king has decided to grant you a boon, Harwin. He has agreed... to a marriage between you and Princess Y/N.”

There was a moment of silence as Harwin stared at his father, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard correctly. “A marriage? To Y/N? Father, that’s... that’s not something to jest about.”

“I am not jesting,” Lyonel replied, his tone serious, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “The king himself proposed it. It seems he noticed more at Rhaenyra’s wedding than we thought. The match is to be made.”

Harwin continued to stare, clearly processing the information. “You’re serious,” he finally said, though it sounded more like a question.

“As serious as the Iron Throne,” Lyonel affirmed, his voice taking on a more reassuring tone. “The king believes it to be the best course, and he has given his blessing. He’s even suggested that you speak with him, to ensure your intentions are true.”

Harwin let out a short laugh, though it was more of disbelief than amusement. “My intentions... true? I’ve been trying to hide my intentions for years, Father! I’ve done everything I could to ensure that the princess’s honor remained intact. And now, the king wants me to confess it all?”

Lyonel smiled, though there was a note of sympathy in his expression. “It seems the king is more perceptive than we gave him credit for. He’s seen the way you look at her, Harwin. And, it seems, he’s not entirely displeased.”

Harwin shook his head, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is... this is madness. I never thought...” He trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by the turn of events.

“Madness, perhaps,” Lyonel agreed, “but it’s the king’s will. And I would think you’d be pleased, Harwin. I know you care for her—perhaps more than you’ve admitted, even to yourself.”

Harwin looked at his father, the disbelief slowly giving way to something warmer, something more hopeful. “You’re certain of this? That the king truly means it?”

Lyonel nodded. “As certain as I can be, Harwin. The king is offering you his daughter’s hand. He’s offering you a future with the woman you love. I’d say that’s a rare gift.”

Harwin let out a long breath, his thoughts spinning as he tried to grasp the reality of it. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lyonel replied, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “But you will need to speak to the king. He’s invited you to do so, and I’d suggest you take him up on that offer. This is not something to delay.”

Harwin nodded, though there was still a hint of that disbelief in his eyes. “I will speak with him. But, Father... this feels like a dream. One that could vanish if I’m not careful.”

“Then be careful,” Lyonel said with a chuckle. “But don’t be afraid to take what is offered to you. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for, Harwin. And if you don’t seize it, I can assure you, the king won’t wait long to change his mind.”

Harwin nodded again, this time with more resolve. “I’ll speak with him. And... thank you, Father. For whatever part you played in this.”

Lyonel smiled, squeezing Harwin’s shoulder. “I only spoke the truth. The rest was in the hands of the gods—and the king.”

Harwin managed a smile of his own, though it was tinged with nervous energy. “Then I suppose I have a king to thank.”

“Indeed you do,” Lyonel said, stepping back. “And Harwin... don’t let your nerves get the better of you. You’ve faced down worse than an audience with the king.”

Harwin let out a short laugh, though it was clear his thoughts were already racing ahead to that impending conversation. “Worse, perhaps, but never more important.”

With a nod, Lyonel turned to leave, giving his son a final, reassuring glance. “Good luck, Harwin. And remember, this is what you’ve always wanted.”

Harwin watched his father go, the reality of the situation finally starting to sink in. He had always known that his feelings for you were dangerous, that they could lead to ruin if ever discovered. But now, with the king’s blessing, what had seemed an impossible dream was suddenly within reach.

It was madness, certainly. But it was a madness he was more than willing to embrace.

As Harwin stood there in the courtyard, his mind filled with thoughts of you—your laughter, your strength, the way your eyes seemed to spark with the same fire that burned in your dragon—he knew one thing for certain.

This was no dream. This was his future. And he would fight for it with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Harwin Strong was not a man easily shaken. He had faced down countless foes in the training yard, stood firm in the heat of battle, and bore the nickname “Breakbones” as a badge of his unyielding strength. Yet now, as he made his way to the king’s chambers, he felt a knot of anxiety twisting in his gut, tighter with each step.

He had known this moment would come eventually, though he had never imagined it would unfold like this. When he was with you, everything seemed to fade away—the weight of his duties, the expectations placed upon him, even the potential consequences of your secret meetings. But now, with Viserys himself summoning him, Harwin could not ignore the reality any longer. The king knew.

The guards outside the king’s private chambers stepped aside as Harwin approached, announcing his arrival with a simple nod. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing the modest yet regal room beyond. King Viserys sat at a table near the hearth, a goblet of wine in his hand, his expression contemplative as he stared into the flickering flames.

Harwin took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm as he stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, leaving him alone with the king. Viserys looked up, a slight smile crossing his lips as he saw Harwin approach.

“Ser Harwin,” Viserys greeted him, gesturing for him to sit. “Come, sit with me. There is much to discuss.”

Harwin inclined his head respectfully before taking the offered seat. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to meet the king’s gaze, knowing that this was not a moment to falter.

“Your Grace,” Harwin began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him, “I am honored to be summoned by you.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “No need for formalities, Harwin. We are not in the council chambers now. This is a matter between a king and a man who has served him well.”

Harwin nodded, though he felt the weight of Viserys’s words. There was no escaping the significance of this conversation, no matter how the king framed it.

Viserys took a sip of his wine, watching Harwin over the rim of his goblet. “Lyonel has likely informed you of my decision regarding my daughter.”

“He has, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, keeping his tone measured. “I must admit, I was... surprised by your generosity.”

“Generosity,” Viserys mused, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply recognize what is right before me.” He set the goblet down on the table, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me, Harwin—how long has this been going on?”

Harwin’s heart skipped a beat. This was the question he had dreaded, the one that would force him to confront the truth he had kept hidden for so long. He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, but found none that could soften the blow.

“For some time now, Your Grace,” Harwin admitted, his voice quieter now. “I did not intend for it to happen... but I could not deny what I felt.”

Viserys’s expression remained unreadable as he listened. “And what is it that you feel, Harwin? What is it that has driven you to take such risks?”

Harwin swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I love her, Your Grace,” he said, the words coming out more easily than he had expected. “I love her more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life. I know it was not my place, but... it is the truth.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, regarding Harwin with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something softer, more understanding. “Love is a dangerous thing, Harwin. It can be a source of great strength, but it can also lead to ruin. I’ve seen it happen more times than I care to count.”

“I know, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, his voice firm despite the vulnerability he felt. “I have tried to protect her, to ensure that no harm comes to her because of our... relationship. But I know that I may have failed in that.”

Viserys sighed, his gaze drifting back to the fire. “I should have seen it sooner. I focused too much on Rhaenyra, on her future, and I neglected to see what was happening with Y/N. I thought I could control everything, that I could arrange her future as easily as I arranged her sister’s. But the truth is, I cannot control matters of the heart.”

Harwin remained silent, sensing that the king was working through his own thoughts as much as he was addressing him.

Viserys’s eyes flicked back to Harwin, sharp and probing. “Do you know how I came to realize the nature of your relationship with my daughter?”

Harwin’s blood ran cold at the question, but he forced himself to nod. “At the wedding feast, Your Grace?”

Viserys let out a short, dry laugh. “Yes, at the wedding feast. But not just because you both slipped away, though that certainly drew my attention. No, Harwin, it was the way you looked at her. The way you looked at each other. You can tell a great deal about a man by how he looks at the woman he loves.”

Harwin felt his face flush, but he did not look away. “I did not mean to be so obvious, Your Grace. But... I could not help it.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “There is no shame in it, Harwin. You are not the first man to be caught in the thrall of love, and you will not be the last. But I must know—can you be the husband she needs? The husband a princess deserves?”

Harwin straightened, his resolve hardening. “I swear to you, Your Grace, I will do everything in my power to protect her, to care for her. She means more to me than anything. I would die before I let any harm come to her.”

Viserys studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. “I believe you, Harwin. You have served the crown well, and you have shown your strength and loyalty time and again. I believe you will make a good husband to my daughter. But remember this—your love for her will be tested. You must be strong enough to withstand whatever comes your way.”

“I understand, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, his voice filled with determination. “I will not fail her. Or you.”

Viserys nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Then it is settled. You will be wed, and I will see to it that the arrangements are made quickly. There is no need to delay what is inevitable.”

Harwin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Your Grace. I am... honored by your trust.”

“Honor and trust are fragile things, Harwin,” Viserys said, his voice tinged with a note of warning. “Do not take them for granted.”

“I will not, Your Grace,” Harwin assured him, his voice steady.

Viserys nodded, rising from his seat with a weary sigh. “You may go, Harwin. But remember, this is only the beginning. The road ahead will not be easy, but if your love is true, you will find your way.”

Harwin stood as well, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will not forget your words.”

As Harwin turned to leave, Viserys spoke once more, his voice softer, more reflective. “Harwin... I hope you understand the gravity of what you’re undertaking. You are not just marrying a woman; you are marrying into the Targaryen legacy. There will be expectations, pressures... and dangers. But if you truly love her, if you are as devoted as you claim to be, then you will find the strength to face them all.”

Harwin paused at the door, turning back to face the king one last time. “I will, Your Grace. For her, I will find the strength to face anything.”

Viserys gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Good. Then go, and prepare yourself. You have much to do.”

With that, Harwin left the king’s chambers, the weight of what had just transpired settling heavily on his shoulders. But beneath that weight was a sense of purpose, of clarity. For years, he had hidden his love, guarded it like a secret treasure. Now, that love had been given the chance to flourish, to become something more.

And though he knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, Harwin felt a fierce determination burning within him. He would marry you, he would protect you, and he would ensure that the love you shared would stand the test of time.

As he made his way back through the corridors of the Red Keep, Harwin allowed himself a small, private smile. The most difficult conversation of his life was now behind him, and with it came the promise of a future he had only dared to dream of.

He would make that future a reality, no matter what it took.

The corridors of the Red Keep seemed to blur as Harwin made his way to your private chambers. His heart was pounding, but not with fear or anxiety as it had been earlier—now, it was filled with a heady mix of excitement and anticipation. The king’s blessing, the prospect of marriage, the realization that the love he had kept hidden for so long was finally allowed to flourish openly—all of it felt almost too good to be true. But it was true, and Harwin could hardly contain himself.

He reached the door to your chambers, pausing for just a moment to steady himself. He had always approached you with caution before, always mindful of the delicate balance they had to maintain. But now... now, everything was different. He could finally tell you how he truly felt, with no fear of repercussions, no need for secrecy.

Harwin knocked lightly on the door, waiting just long enough to hear your voice bidding him to enter before pushing it open.

You were standing by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over your form. When you turned and saw him, a smile broke across your face—a smile that sent a thrill through him, knowing that soon you would be his, and he yours, in every way that mattered.

“Harwin,” you greeted him, your voice light and filled with affection as you crossed the room to meet him. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Has something happened?”

“Something has happened,” Harwin replied, his smile widening as he reached out to take your hands in his. “Something wonderful.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity alight in your eyes. “Tell me, then. What is it?”

Harwin took a deep breath, his heart swelling with the words he was about to say. “I’ve just come from the king. He has given us his blessing. We are to be married.”

The look on your face was priceless—shock, disbelief, and then an overwhelming joy that made your eyes shine. “Married?” you repeated, as if you couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yes,” Harwin confirmed, his hands tightening around yours. “He knows about us, about our feelings, and he has agreed to our match. We will be wed, Y/N. We will be together.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, the reality of his words sinking in. Then, with a sudden, joyful laugh, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Harwin responded immediately, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, reveling in the warmth of your body against his.

“I can’t believe it,” you whispered against his shoulder, your voice filled with emotion. “I never thought... I never dreamed this would happen.”

“Neither did I,” Harwin murmured, burying his face in your hair and breathing in your familiar scent. “But it’s real, Y/N. It’s happening. We don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to pretend.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes bright with unshed tears. “I’m so happy, Harwin. I’ve wanted this for so long... I love you.”

Harwin’s heart skipped a beat at the words, though he had known them to be true long before you ever spoke them aloud. “And I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, holding each other, letting the reality of your impending marriage settle over you. There was a sense of relief, of joy, but also an undercurrent of anticipation, of the future that now stretched out before you—one that you would face together.

Finally, Harwin cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he looked down at you. “There’s nothing I want more than to spend my life with you. To be the man who stands by your side, who loves and protects you. And now... now we have that chance.”

You smiled up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “And what will you do with that chance, Ser Harwin?”

Harwin grinned, his heart swelling with love and desire. “I’ll make you the happiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms,” he vowed, his voice low and filled with promise. “I’ll love you every day, with everything I have.”

Your smile softened, and you reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Then kiss me, Harwin. Kiss me as if we’re already wed.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Leaning down, Harwin captured your lips with his, the kiss starting soft and tender, but quickly growing more passionate as the reality of your impending union fueled his desire. His hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all the love and longing he had felt for you into that one, searing connection.

You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders, your body pressing against his as if you couldn’t get close enough. The kiss was everything he had ever wanted—intimate, intense, filled with the promise of a future together.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Harwin’s hands roamed up and down your sides, as if reassuring himself that you were truly there, that this was truly happening.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Of being with you, without fear, without having to hide. And now it’s real.”

“It’s real,” Harwin echoed, his voice husky with the depth of his feelings. “And it’s just the beginning. We have so much to look forward to, Y/N. So many moments like this.”

You smiled, your eyes shining with love as you reached up to touch his face again. “Then let’s make this moment count,” you said, your voice filled with a playful challenge. “Show me how much you love me, Harwin.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl of desire, Harwin captured your lips again, his hands sliding down to your hips as he pressed you back against the wall. The kiss was hungrier this time, more desperate, as if he was trying to make up for all the time you had spent apart, all the moments you had stolen in secret.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you returned the kiss with equal fervor, your body arching against his. The heat between you was undeniable, a fire that had been kindling for years, now finally allowed to burn freely.

Harwin’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he pressed you against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped against his lips, your hands gripping his shoulders for support, but there was no fear, no hesitation—only a shared, burning desire.

“I want you,” Harwin whispered against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“And you shall have me,” you replied, your voice equally breathless as you clung to him. “All of me, Harwin. Now and always.”

The intensity of your words, the truth of them, sent a thrill through Harwin, and he captured your lips once more, the kiss growing more frenzied as his hands roamed over your body. Every touch, every caress, was a promise of what was to come—a future filled with love, passion, and the unbreakable bond you shared.

The world outside your chambers faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, in the love that had been denied for so long but was now free to flourish. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy—a moment that neither of you would ever forget.

And as Harwin held you close, his heart swelling with love and anticipation, he knew that this was just the beginning. Your future together was bright, and he would cherish every moment of it, starting with this one.

In the quiet of your chambers, with the sun casting its golden light over the two of you, Harwin finally allowed himself to believe in the happiness that was now within his grasp. And as he kissed you again, slow and tender this time, he knew that he would spend the rest of his life making sure you felt that same happiness, every single day.

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