#Harwin strong fluff

[drakoneve]

A Dragon's Wrath

Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.

pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey

a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair

In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.

Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.

This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.

At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.

You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.

You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.

Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.

That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.

When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.

"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."

Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."

You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."

"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"

The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.

"I would like nothing more, Ser."

After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.

Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.

Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.

Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.

Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.

She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.

The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.

"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."

Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?

Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.

Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.

You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.

Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.

"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"

But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."

You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.

He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.

"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.

Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"

"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.

Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."

"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"

"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."

Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"

"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"

You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.

"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."

Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.

Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.

Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.

It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.

"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."

He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.

Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."

"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."

He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."

As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.

You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.

"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.

"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."

Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."

Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.

You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."

A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.

Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.

After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.

As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.

Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.

Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.

Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."

"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.

"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."

Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.

"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."

Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."

Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"

Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.

"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."

He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."

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Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.

His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.

"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."

You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.

"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."

Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.

"What have you planned, my love?"

You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."

The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.

You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.

"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.

Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."

You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.

"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."

Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."

You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."

Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."

"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."

And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.

You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"

He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.

"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."

So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.

Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.

Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.

Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.

"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"

"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."

You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.

Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.

"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."

You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.

You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.

The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.

"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."

He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."

[criminalamnesia]

Let’s Stay Here

warnings: fluff, not proofread, targaryen!reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is 18+

summary: having been born the second Targaryen daughter, you were used to being overlooked. however, there was one person who always had his eyes on you.

author’s note: this is purely self indulgent. I am obsessed with Harwin. also fuck house of the dragon I’ve got beef with that show now

When Rhaenyra had been named heir to the iron throne, you had been happy for her. Of course you had– you two were sisters, and although born a few years apart, you were close friends.

But with Rhaenyra’s naming, chaos had followed. Whispers in the halls of the Red Keep; sour looks from disapproving lords; passive aggressive comments from the queen.

Some days you felt as though you would explode if you remained in the castle any longer.

So, logically, you began to sneak out.

It was harmless fun at first; just seeing how long you could go without being noticed. The City Watch was relentless with their nightly patrols, and so it became somewhat of a game to evade them.

Over time, you became more bold. You would wear less to disguise yourself. You would stand closer to watchmen. A few times you even swiped trinkets and food from vendors in the street.

As all things do, however, it eventually became boring. What used to be exhilarating became mundane, and you once again ached for excitement. That excitement came in the form of one Ser Harwin Strong.

You knew who he was; his father was hand of the king, after all. And Harwin was certainly memorable by himself. You and Rhaenyra had whispered about him more than a few times before, but she had never been taken with him– not like you had.

So, when you finally spotted him one night in Flea Bottom, patrolling the streets in his armor, you couldn’t resist the urge to test your luck.

Grinning to yourself, you pulled off the torn cap barely hiding you hair and shoved it into the pocket of your trousers. With silver hair on full display, you started your trek towards Harwin.

He had his back turned to you as he walked down an empty alleyway. You cautiously approached, deciding to just walk past him to see if he would notice.

Your shoulder brushed his armor-clad one as you passed him, and instantly the knight reacted. His hand that had been resting upon the pommel of his sword gripped it, beginning to unsheathe the blade.

You just kept walking, until his startled “Princess?” stopped you.

You turned with a smile, curtsying to the knight. You saw as he tried– and failed– to mask a smile.

“Ser Harwin. Lovely night, is it not?” You spoke as if you were out for a stroll in the gardens at the keep. He shook his head, sheathing his sword and dropping his hand to the side.

“Forgive me, princess, but you shouldn’t be out here. Especially not alone.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Would you care to accompany me, then? I’ve grown quite bored by myself. I’m sure you would provide great company.”

“Princess, I cannot– I must take you back your quarters.”

“You mustn’t. I am in need of some fresh air and excitement. My quarters have become quite stuffy as of late.”

He looked at you, and you could tell he was torn between his mischievous spirit and his duty. Deciding to make the choice for him, you took a step back.

“Well, Ser Harwin, I understand you must do your duty and return me to safety. However, I fear that you must catch me first. I hope that armor is lighter than it looks,” you teased before turning and running out of the alley. You could hear him curse and then the clanging of armor as he ran after you.

“Stop!” He called out, causing a few heads to turn as he followed you into a crowded street.

You laughed with glee as you slipped between people, turning your head every so often to catch a glimpse of Harwin’s gold cloak far behind.

As you rounded a corner, you were met with a dead end. You turned to leave, only to be met with the armor of a city watchman once again.

Looking up, you grinned as Harwin scowled.

“Hello again, Ser. It seems you’ve caught me.”

“It seems I have,” he grumbled, reaching for your arm. You willingly gave it to him, watching as his hand grasped your bicep. His grip wasn’t tight– but it certainly wasn’t lax, either.

He began to steer you back towards the castle, and you sighed. You easily could’ve evaded him longer than you had– you’d been doing it for years. However, maybe a part of you had wanted him to catch you.

Harwin had always been kind to you and Rhaenyra. He wasn’t like the other lords at court– he wasn’t fawning over your sister and vying for her hand. He was watching from afar– occasionally up close– and his focus wasn’t on her. It was on you.

“Forgive me if I speak out of turn, Princess,” he begins, and you nod your head absentmindedly. “But I cannot believe that the red keep could be so bad that you have to sneak out every night.”

You stopped, causing Harwin to tug slightly on your arm as he took another step. At your halt, he turned and looked at you with a grin.

“You can’t think you’ve gotten through the streets so safely all these years without help, Princess. I am better at my job than you think.”

“Why haven’t you stopped me before?” You questioned, resuming your walk.

“I have… noticed certain things during my time here. Certain things pertaining to you.”

“You’ve been watching me, then?” You replied, to which he chuckled.

“Everyone watches, Princess. Some more closely than others.”

“So it seems,” you responded. The two of you fell silent as Harwin steered you back towards the keep. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he led you right to the secret passage you had used to get out of the castle.

Smiling sheepishly, you removed your arm from his grasp and turned towards the passage. He bowed, giving you a quick “princess” before turning to head back towards the city streets.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Ser Harwin.” You called over your shoulder, causing him to stop mid-step. He didn’t turn, but you heard him chuckle as he continued on. You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave for a moment, before turning and slipping into the passage.

—

Your game continued from then on, except you weren’t the only player. You would deliberately search for Harwin, and he would always take you right back to the keep– but you two became closer as time passed. You would drag out your walks to speak to him for just a minute more. He would insist on hiding in the shadows for a moment so he could survey the nearby crowd, only so he could get closer to you in the darkness.

Eventually, you could no longer entertain your nightly trips to the streets of King’s Landing. You were being watched more closely as tensions within the castle rose. It didn’t help that Rhaenyra’s scorned suitors were now turning to you, as their first choice had been wed to Laenor. If they couldn’t have the heir, at least they could still have a Targaryen.

Your father became engrossed in finding you a match– just as he had done for Rhaenyra. Of course, you had already made up your mind on who you wished to wed.

“What are you thinking about?”

Harwin’s rumbling voice broke you from your thoughts of marriage and politics. You smiled as you rolled over in your bed to face the man beside you.

“Marriage,” you replied honestly, closing your eyes as he brushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear.

“Marriage, hm?” He spoke, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. You nodded, your eyes still closed.

“Which lucky lord shall be your husband?” He asked, and you reached your hand up, resting it atop his.

“No decision has been made yet. Perhaps a Lannister? Maybe a Baratheon?”

“You wound me, Princess,” he said, and you giggled as you opened your eyes. He was smiling at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh, how about a Tully?”

“Truly, you have no heart,” he told you, to which you laughed. You removed his hand from your cheek, intertwining your fingers.

“Of course I wish to wed you, my love. I could not imagine marrying another.”

“The son of the hand and the daughter of the king. I’m sure the king will be thrilled,” Harwin spoke.

“The king will be thrilled to be rid of me,” you replied, shuffling closer to him. “I am a burden keeping him from focusing on his heir.”

“You,” Harwin said, “are no burden. The king is lucky to have a daughter as great as you.”

“Flattery suits you, Ser Harwin,” you giggled. He chuckled and released you hand in favor of reaching over and pulling you into his chest.

“Tell me more of how great I am.”

“That would take years, Princess,” he responded.

“I have plenty of those.”

Harwin chuckled again, a deep and soothing sound to your ears. You rested your head on his chest as he slipped his fingers through your hair.

“Let’s just stay here forever. No eyes watching. No family quarrels. Just us,” you whispered.

“Just us,” he repeated.

[angelltheninth]

Could you write that trope where a sick character confesses but is sick so asks the person who they confessed to not to say anything? I'm sorry if this is confusing. Oh yeah and could it be with Harwin from HOTD?

I got what you mean, I always face-palm when that happens but that's only cause I like the trope.

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, accidental confession, being sick, fever, hand kisses, flustered Reader

A/N: This trope was EVERYWHERE in shojo anime before.

Rare for someone like Harwin to get sick. Injured yes, quite often, so often that he got scolded for it. But Harwin being Harwin he never let an injury get in his way, or his sickness for that matter. He pushed himself to his limits until he collapsed from his body being unable keep up with him.

Given that he was so stubborn and listened to a few people, one of which was you, who took care of a lot of his injuries before, you took many shifts to take care of him.

Before you'd get flustered and hot when he took his shirt off but now it had no effect on your mind. There were more important things to worry about, "Your fever seems to be a bit lower then yesterday. That doesn't mean you have a free pass to walk around yet." Harwin nodded, his eyes distant as they stared forward. "Harwin, are you listening?"

"Of course. I always listen to you." His warm hand eclipsed yours, which was still wet from the water you used to wash his back and shoulders. "You're always here for me. I am deeply grateful to have you by side."

Sure he was, he always told you so, and never asked for anything in return. It was one of the things you admired about him. He never abused his position of power.

"Have I ever told you how much I value your hard work? Because I do! You should... take some time off and we can go somewhere with me. To a lake perhaps? We could swim." He smiled with all the warmth he had in him, his body slowly lowering back on the bed. "And I could tell you how special you are to me. And that I like you."

"Like... me?" Harwin didn't see you almost drop the bucket of water, he was already turning on his stomach and hugging his pillow.

"Oh. Don't tell. It needs to be a secret until we go on our vacation." He mumbled, exhausted from the fever. Maybe he wasn't being serious. After all you've helped a lot of people, sick and injured and they tended to say a lot of things weather from the illness, pain or their medication.

Still you wanted to reassure him, "Your secret is safe with me, Harwin." Deep down you hoped his words were true. Time would tell if he repeated them.

[aemondwhoresworld]

RHAE rec. (still UPDATING)

𝐒𝐄𝐑. 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆

≡ this is my SER HARWIN STRONG recommend list!

≡ i don’t own any of these works. also i wanted to thank you to all the author for writing such an amazing works! 🤍

≡ please be free to recommend more fic if you have any other angsty, fluff, etc fic

≡ if you have any other HARWIN STRONG fic recommend, please feel free to include it in!! 🤗

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍. rec

⌗ one-shot

SECOND HEIR — by @imagines-all-day-everyday

LOVING HANDS — by @letaliabane

THE COMMANDER’S TRYST — by @house-strong

ALONE — by @thesithdiaries

STRONG BONDS — by @itsgameofthronesimagines

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Sworn Protector: Harwin Strong

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

word count: 828

description: Harwin being the sworn protector to you his princess <3

Tonight was your sister Rhaenerya and your cousin Laenor's celebration feast to celebrate their upcoming wedding. You had dance with Rhaenerya and your uncle daemon and now we're making your way back up to the family table when you felt a familiar hand on your back making you smile.

"Would you do me the honor of sharing a dance with me princess?" Harwin your sworn protector asked you.

"It would be my honor Ser Harwin, and I might I say you look handsome tonight." You said watching as a smile broke out on his face.

"You flatter me princess, but it is you who looks absolutely beautiful tonight." He said watching as you tried to fight a smile from breaking out on your face.

There was no denying that was something between you two, ever since that day at the tournament to celebrate your father's marriage to Alicent where he asked for your favor and where you fell in love with the man named "Breakbones" who was always so gentle and caring with you despite his reputation after becoming your sworn protector.

"Who knew that the princess who loved fighting and reading was such a good dancer?" He teased.

"Could say the same thing about you Ser Breakbones, I didn't realize that dance lessons were a part of your training to become a knight?" You mused to him.

"Oh you didn't, I mean how else am I supposed to protect the princess if I can't dance? You never know when dancing will decide if you live or not. " He said to you making you laugh while you shook your head at him.

"Mind if we cut in?" Your sister and cousin said as Harwin agreed promising to find you at the end of the night or earlier if you needed him.

He watched as you three danced together laughing and smiling. Your smile was so infectious that he couldn't help but smile when he saw you smiling, yeah he was down bad for you even if he couldn't have you.

At some point in the night Harwin had lost track of you due to all the people and how small you were and his blood ran cold when he saw a fight breaking out.

"Princess!" He called out going to the last place he saw you.

"Harwin we got separated in the crowd." Rhaenerya said worried that you were going to get hurt being in the middle of that whole scene.

"Princess!" He called out again as he fought his way through the crowd trying to find you.

"Princess!" He said again finally seeing your dress and you panicked looking around.

"Get off of me creep!" He heard you say as he saw you punch some guy as he continued making his towards you.

"Princess. Let's get you out of here." He said picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder as he made his way through the crowd and out of the dining hall.

"Harwin can you put me down now? I think we made it out of there." You asked him although it felt nice to be carried around by him.

"Oh my apologies princess." He said gently setting you down on the ground in your room.

"It's alright thank you for rescuing me." You said to him as he held your hands in his own.

"Of course princess, I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner." He said running his thumb over your knuckles making you hiss a bit.

"It's alright Harwin really, no one knew that a fight was gonna happen. I should probably get some cream for my knuckles." You said.

"Let me, just wait right here. I'll be right back." He said stepping out of your room and returning a few minutes later.

"That was impressive punch you threw but the maester said that this should help with the pain and help them heal faster." He said gently applying it to your hand.

"You know what would help them heal faster?" You asked him.

"What's that princess?" He asked having a feeling he knew what you were going to say.

"A kiss to make them feel better. So what do say Ser Harwin, will you kiss them better?" You asked with your best puppy dog eyes.

"Your trouble princess but whatever the princess wants, she gets." He said lifting your hand to his lips and place a kiss on your knuckles.

"Better?" He asked with a smile.

"Better, I hardly have any pain. You my sworn protector must have the magic touch." You said with a smile.

"Goodnight princess, get some rest. I'll be right outside if you need me." He said placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight Harwin, thanks for being my sworn protector, there's no one else I would rather have here than you." You said kissing his cheek as he fought a smile.

[mgcldydrms]

Dance With Me ( Harwin Strong )

requested by anon: Can you write a little blurb about Harwin Strong asking Reader for a dance?

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none, except for fluff

pairing: harwin strong x fem!reader

author's note: it took me some time to complete this blurb, but I finally did it. I really hope you all enjoy this one.

navigation | main masterlist | hotd masterlist | taglist

Your eyes wandered around the grand room. Almost everyone in Westeros had come together in King’s Landing to celebrate yet another year of Viserys as the King of the seven Kingdoms. As his second oldest daughter, you were attending as commanded, even though you would rather spend your time doing something else.

As you glanced around the room, you noticed that almost everyone was out of their seats and on the dance floor. They had huge smiles on their faces. They must be really enjoying themselves, you thought to yourself as you let out an almost inaudible sigh. Even Rhaenyra, your older sister by a year and a half, was dancing with someone. 

You looked over to your father, who was talking to Lyonel Strong. You had no idea what they were talking about, however, before you could move closer to where they were and listen to the schemes they were conjuring up, you heard your name being called. 

Your eyes opened wide, recognising the voice clearly. Slowly, you turned around and looked up at those brown eyes that already watched you. 

A gentle smile graced Harwin Strong’s lips as he looked down at you. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him, a light blush gracing your cheeks while your eyebrows were slightly raised, waiting for him to say something.

“Would you like to dance with me, Princess?”

Harwin held his hand out for you, lightly wiggling his fingers while he waited for you to make a decision. 

While you contemplated whether to take his hand and dance with him in front of everyone, which was somewhat of a nightmare for you because you hated being the centre of attention, you turned your head slightly to the side, looking over your shoulder, quickly noticing that your father and Lord Strong had stopped talking and were now looking as expectantly at you as Harwin Strong.

Viserys, your father, nodded his head, encouraging you to take up the young man’s offer. You knew that he only wanted the best for you. He had noticed the glances you stole at Harwin Strong, always staying a bit longer when he was around, exchanging secret smiles that got noticed by both fathers, King Viserys Targaryen and Lyonel Strong. 

You let out a small breath you didn’t know you were holding before you turned around again, a bright smile on your lips as you looked up at Harwin, who was still holding his hand out for you. 

“Of course.”, you stated, putting your hand in his while you got up from your seat. 

Harwin had a proud smile on his lips while he guided you to the dance floor, almost everyone’s attention on you. You were able to catch your sister’s eyes, who instantly wiggled her eyebrows, making you lightly giggle, luckily without anyone noticing. 

Rhaenyra was the first one to find out about your crush on Harwin Strong. She encouraged you to talk to him whenever you could, sometimes even pushing you towards him, which usually made you bump into him, seeing as though you were the clumsy one out of the two of you. Thankfully, it helped, and it always encouraged you to strike up a conversation with him. 

Once you made it to the dance floor, you turned around and stood face-to-face with the young man in front of you. Both of you had bright smiles on your lips. Anyone who didn’t notice the sparks flying between you was blind. There was so much chemistry between you. Everyone could see it.

Both of your fathers wore proud smiles on their lips, knowing the next big thing they had to discuss with one another. 

As soon as the music started again, you and Harwin, along with the other guests, moved your bodies to the rhythm of it. You weren’t the perfect dancer, however, you were decent enough to manoeuvre your way around the dance floor. 

Harwin couldn’t help but admire the way you danced and quickly noticed that you were always wearing a smile on your face, whether it was from being embarrassed because you missed a few steps or because you were enjoying yourself, he didn’t care. Harwin loved seeing that smile. It brightened his day. 

One dance ended, and another one began, and you felt as though you didn’t want to stop. You wanted to keep on dancing, and the young Strong too. He wanted to be as close to you as appropriately possible.

The two of you wanted to dance the night away with one another, and the longer you were on the dance floor, the lesser you cared about everyone’s eyes on you. The only thing that mattered to you at that moment was to have Harwin Strong this close to you, talking to him, laughing with him … feeling his touch.

[elliewlums]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 [𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠]

pairing: ser harwin strong x fem!reader

summary: harwin takes you hunting and you get squeamish

content warnings: talks of killing, harwin kills a deer, making out, god this man i love him so much

request: Hi, can I make a request for Ser Harwin where he takes the reader hunting and she's all confident that she'll get the biggest animal until she actually has to kill it. Maybe she can be squeamish and he's helps her out. Then when they are on their way back he's all cocky and tells her she's all talk. I can just picture his smirk. Thanks

i have another request for him that i’m starting v soon!!!! (and it’s smut😩) and as always, likes and most importantly reblogs are appreciated

“i’m going to get this one,” you whisper as you draw your bow and arrow taut. the stag stands tall and broad, so far unaware of your presence and your intentions.

“go ahead,” harwin laughs in that rasping voice, so close that it sends shivers cascading down your whole body. you hesitate as the creature walks, admiring the way it moves with such grace and power, the kindness and peace in its eyes that you’re about to destroy with a single movement. his rough hand, calloused from years of fighting, scrubs up and down your clothed arm, rumpling the soft material. “you can do it,” he murmurs.

your arm falters as you bring the weapon back down. there’s a pit of nausea in your stomach that only grows the longer you think about murdering this innocent animal. you shake your head. “i can’t. i can’t do it.”

“alright.” he kisses your temple before moving from his position behind you and - swift and quiet as a feline despite his hulking presence - fires one arrow straight through its head. you screw your eyes shut and turn away as its body crumples and hits the ground with a dull thud — you never realised you were so squeamish. he laughs, this deep bellowing sound that carries across the woods for miles and your brows knit and furrow, lips pushed together.

“come on,” he says. “help me lift this and we’ll start the journey back to the keep.”

your trip back is quiet, the only sound the crunch of the leaves and the muted footfalls of the horses’ hooves against the forest floor. you roll your eyes as soon as harwin glances your way, already preparing yourself for the inevitable teasing.

“you’re all talk,” he taunts. “i thought you were eager to kill it. it’s all you talked about!”

you huff. “i felt sorry for it!” the smirk that cracks his face forces upon you the overwhelming urge to smack him. “you’re a smug bastard, you know that?”

“and you love me regardless,” he goads; you know he’s right.

once you’ve dismounted the horses and you’re back on solid ground, he holds his arms out for you.

“come here, sweet girl.”

you oblige despite your irritation; he knows how to get under your skin every time without fail. once you’re in his arms, pressed against the cool metal of his armour, he kisses your forehead.

“i love you even if you’re terrible at hunting.”

you scrunch your nose and squirm.

“you’re awfully mean.” your bottom lip protrudes until you’re pouting at him and he presses his own lips to the soft flesh, one textured hand on your jaw, rough as sandpaper but tender and doting as though you’re delicate.

“shh.” he quiets you instantly, his tongue slipping out to part your lips for him as his beard scratches against your baby soft cheek. his body crowds you without moving, so massive and powerful that you submit to him without argument— you crave his dominance, his strength. you whine as he pulls away, chasing him with your whole body. he smiles. “shall we continue this inside, my dearest?”

[stargirlfics]

Sir Harwin is everything to me what do I do??? He’s so big and teddy bear 🧸. He’d hold you in his lap in front of the fire as long as you want and tell you tales about his adventures but not the too scary ones. He protects you from all that as much as he can

Strongest knight in Westeros and an actual teddy bear and heart of gold on the inside, period!

This makes me so soft! His lap is definitely a familiar spot cause he’s always got you placed there whenever he gets the chance to. Can we also mention his fucking voice…perfect to just listen to him talk! Like stop having such a soothing yet arousing voice!

And the way he fiercely protects you and your honor…there’s nobody and nothing that could mess with you or talk bad about you because he’s not the one to be messed with about that stuff, he’ll defend you to the end, he’s simply just devoted to you completely and it makes me want to scream!!

[my-watch-begins]

A match for love. Part X.

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Female!OC.

Words: 6k.

Warnings: none for this chapter.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Ayla worked on Harwin's curls carefully, the mane almost seemed to have a mind of its own, loose strands slipped through her fingers when she moved her hand to the opposite sides. Once she managed to gather the ones at the top, she unwrapped a leather from her wrists and tied them together in a half bun.

When she finished, Harwin looked up at her from his seat and frowned at her.

"Why is your breathing so labored?" He placed a hand at her waist "are you alright?"

She took a deep breath and moved to a chair adjacent to his, the food for breakfast on the table still untouched by her. She sat stiffly and sighed.

"It's your child. Look" she motioned at her sides, the seams of her dress stretched, threatening to rip. "Grayce and I were going to the market today to buy fabric to start making dressed for when I'm bigger"

Harwin's hands traced the tautness of her dress, constricting her and the babe inside of her. He then leaned down as Ayla kept talking, took the bottom of the dress with both hands and pulled.

When the sound of fabric ripping reached Ayla's ears, she extended her hands to stop Harwin, but he pulled again and her complaint got caught in her throat.

The dressed, ripped at the middle now, allowed Ayla to breath better. Her stomach peaked from between her ripped dress, leaving it to be seen from under the white fabric of her under skirt.

They exchanged looks, Harwin looking for approval of his work and Ayla one of annoyance at her ruined dressed, a look that quickly went away when she noticed how free she felt, able to lean back on the chair and breath normally.

"Better?"

"You're not doing that to all my dresses" she scolded faining annoyance. She looked at the torn fabric and decided she could sow the edges, it would have to do until she could make more.

"I had a dream" Harwin said, his hand sneaking under the fabric to touch her stomach, hoping that now that the child was bigger, he would feel it move like Ayla had the last couple of days.

"Really? Tell me about it" her hand pressed on top of his and moved it around to where she felt the babe could kick next.

"I dreamt that you called me to a room and presented me a son"

She smiled at the image of that, her fingers caressing Harwin's own over her stomach.

"I wish that comes true for you, my love. For your sake and your father's"

Harwin moved his hand, growing impatient that his child would not wake up to greet him.

"I don't care what my father wants or expects from my child"

"It's the insurance for the male heir" Ayla also grew impatient that Harwin did not receive a kick, she leaned over the table determined to eat somethings.

"Any daughter that takes after you will be ten times better suited to run Harrenhal than any sons that take after me. Should anyone find a problem with that will meet the edges of my sword"

Ayla smiled, content with the vote on confidence Harwin placed on their child, regardless of the gender.

"I do wish for a son for my own sake. It's my biggest dream to have another pair of eyes like yours to look at"

They shared a tender smile, Harwin leaned to her to kiss her lips in slow pecks, retreating mere inches from them to kiss them in another angle. Ayla hummed in content, then gasped when Harwin's hand rested at her thigh. His fingers gripped between her legs, a move so simple that had her drenched in seconds.

Harwin pulled back with a displeased grunt when the door knocked and opened instantly, his hand retreating from her thighs.

"Are you ready Ayla?" Grayce spoke from the door, then frowned and walked to her "what happened to your dress?"

"Your brother happened"

Harwin exchanged the same pleased smirk and annoyed stare with his sister.

"I'll look for something to fix it quickly and then head out" she assured. Ayla nodded thankful and watched Grayce walk to the door, halfway she stopped and turned "oh, and Adrian wanted to accompany us, if that's okay"

"Of course he does" she muttered under her breath, Grayce questioned her with a frown "I don't mind" she spoke quickly, kicking herself for letting her displeasure be the first reaction.

"I'm coming as well" Harwin chimed in. Once Grayce was out of the room, Ayla looked at him with a twist of her lips.

It was no secret that Adrian and Grayce were courting eachother, or at least that's what she perceived every time she saw them talk shoulder to shoulder in hushed tones or walk the gardens, not to mention the time she had seen them kiss at the entrance of his room. 

Harwin and Ayla had already disagreed on that to do in regards to their respective siblings. Ayla stood her ground to try and keep her brother away from the Strong girl, noting that he was promised to the Queen's guard and in due time he would have to assume his role in it, unable to take wife and father children.

He was more of the idea of letting things run their course without their intromission. At the first sign of disagreement when they discussed the matter, and noticing that the both of them were dead set on their points of view, they both silently agreed to not discuss it further.

"Once we return, might we discuss some things?" She offered, her hand extended over the table. Harwin took it while looking at her with worry in his eyes.

"Any concerns I would like them voiced as soon as possible, Ayla"

She gave him a dismissing smile with a shake of her head.

"They're not concerns, I assure you. I just want to talk about the near future"

She led his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it, hoping to reassure that she had no bad news to give him.

Grayce helped Ayla with her dress, between the two they mended the fabric and headed out the room. As they walked intending to leave the tower of the Hand, Lord Lyonel gave the party a look as he entered.

"Where are you heading?" He asks, his eyes leaving a piece of parchment shortly to address them.

"We're going to the market. Ayla needs new dresses" Grayce explained, her arms linked with Ayla's.

"Is Jaena not going with you?"

"No, she didn't wish to"

"Well, after you return, might I speak with you Ayla?"

She was surprised to be addressed, after exchanging a short but inquisitive glance with her husband, she nodded.

"Of course"

"I'll see you when you return then" he excused himself with a short nod, one that the three of them replicated in respect.

Ayla had much in her mind as she looked at the different fabrics in the market. One was; why would Lord Lyonel want to talk with her. She had a feeling it couldn't be anything good, even though she hadn't done anything to get on her Good Father's bad side.

The other thing that plagued her mind was Jaena's sudden withdrawal. She knew the exact reason of it though. Again, it was Adrian and Grayce's closeness. She was very aware that both of the girls fancied her bother, but she couldn't fathom that their infatuation was so that they would retreat from the family in jealousy. Jaena, the closest one to Ayla because of their similar personalities, had stopped hanging out with her and preferred to either be alone or in the company of other ladies at court, they only shared meals in silence.

It gave Ayla all the more reason to want to keep her brother away. She was already in open war with Larys, she didn't wish to also astray herself from Jaena.

Once back in the tower of the Hand, Grayce and the seamstress worked on Ayla's overall measures. She gave them one of her dresses and asked to keep the style like it. After an hour she was free, and the first thing she did with her freedom was go downstairs to the office of the Hand.

Lord Lyonel seemed to have been in it since they left and when Ayla arrived he was about to walk out of it.

"You wanted to see me?" She asked, her hands holding each other over her stomach. Lord Lyonel dedicated a short smile to her, then looked at the table that never seemed to be free of unread parchments of paper.

Ayla looked between the table and then him with a frown of misunderstandment.

"When I told you you were too smart for your own good Ayla, I was being truthful. You have a keen eye for certain things. If your father trusted you with secrets of the Vale, then I believe I can trust you with some, the little ones, of the Realm. And I also trust that if you come in contact with something you weren't supposed to know, you'll be discreet about it"

Not in her wildest dreams she thought that Lord Lyonel would offer her to peak at the Hand's correspondance.

"I truly don't know what to say" she muttered, looking at the pile of parchment on the table "it's one of the biggest forms of trust I've received, maybe ever" she then looked at him, her face was serious and didn't reflect the inner excitement she felt "thank you, Lord Lyonel. I hope I can meet your expectations"

"I'm sure you will" he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, finally allowing her to let out a smile.

"I wouldn't know how or what to do"

"Worry not" he reassured again.

He explained that the marriages and the changes of them had to be written down in the books by the maesters, but the Hand had the privilege of reading them first. It was a simple task and it was true that the Hand was right in not needing to know absolutely everything. He wanted Ayla to fill herself with the knowledge, relate it to the maesters and then tell him only the important things.

She assured that she would start the following morning. After dinner, once her and her husband were in their room and getting undressed to head to bed, Ayla spoke to him over her shoulder.

"Your father has offered me a job" she mentioned, slipping into her long nightgown, one that she would soon need to replace as well.

She turned on her heels and sat on the bed, cradling her stomach as she leaned back on the headrest, fluffing a pillow under her. Harwin had already slipped in bed, one of his hands laid on top of his chest as the other one cradled his neck.

"Doing what exactly my love?" He inquired, glancing in between her and her stomach.

"Reading mostly" she had asked for permission of the Hand to tell Harwin about the offer. He had told her to keep it simple in terms of content.

"That's wonderful, Ayla. I'm glad you and my father are better acquainted" he pushed himself up the bed to match Ayla's leaning position on the headrest "I'm glad you're thriving in King's Landing" he pressed a hand to her knee and gave it a squeeze "it was the thing I was most worried about. Bringing you here and you hating every second of it"

Ayla gave him a shake of her head as she pulled a smile.

"I do like living at the capital. Though things are definitely different here"

Harwin suddenly remembered that she wanted to speak with him, he shuffled himself closer and moved his hand from her knee to her outer thigh.

"You wanted to speak with me earlier?"

"Ah, yes. It truly is nothing" she shook her head again, the closeness of him allowed her to hold the arm that was holding her, press a kiss to his shoulder and finally place her chin over it as she talked "there's just some things that are done differently here than in the Vale. Mostly relating to children and how to have them and raise them"

She searched in his eyes any indication that he knew what she was talking about. Harwin just waited patiently until she spoke again.

"I've spoken with other ladies at court and the  about what they do here, as soon as they have their child they have wetnurses and people to take care of the child. I wish for none of that"

Harwin straightened, boring his eyes into hers.

"Everything will be done as you want, you are the one facing this and I wish nothing more than you to be pleased, specially with the pain you are to endure to have our child"

"But?"

"But" he leaned into her again, their noses almost touching "they're there to help you, if you're working with my father and also taking care of a child, you'll exhaust yourself" he leaned back and looked between her and her stomach again "I also don't think this is the only child we will have, do you?"

Ayla smiled at the weariness with which he mentioned having more children, almost fearing her answer.

"I think we stand to give my father more grandchildren than all my four brothers combined" she joked. He exhaled, not wanting to let Ayla know that he was holding his breath at her answer, but the relief he felt was hard to hide.

"All the more reason my love. I wish for you to be replenish. If you don't want them then we won't have them, but know that they're at your disposal whenever you need them"

Ayla smiled in content, then leaned in to kiss him.

She pulled back with a little gasp, then her hand quickly searched for his and placed it over her stomach, covering almost half of it with it's extension.

They waited in silence, looking down at Harwin's hand expectantly until he felt it, the kick at the palm of his hand, so tiny yet so powerful he almost felt like crying.

"Did you feel that?" She asked excitedly. Harwin only replied by leaning down and placing several kisses over the spot where he had been kicked, hopeful that the babe would still be there to receive the kisses.

The first week of being in the Hand's office looking into the letters had gone smoothly, she had a parchment where she would write down what needed to be related to the maesters and keep the scrolls that needed to be related to the Hand. 

She enjoyed the job, it stimulated her mind more than anything, allowed her to make acquaintance with the maesters and read their books. The books of the big families had to be updated in both sides of the families, so she had a chance to also peak at her own family book and was proud when she saw that the last update on the Strong's family page had been "Ser Harwin Strong took to wife Lady Ayla Redfort, now Lady Ayla Strong"

Upon telling Lord Lyonel what she had chosen to let him know, he was pleased with how her view matched his, which gave him more confidence in her work.

With her new responsability she had even forgotten about her worries with the Princess, internally knowing that she didn't need to worry.

Her ever lasting problem was now sitting in front of her, looking at her with his always present eerie smile.

"So now you've taken to read my father's correspondence when he's away" Larys accused.

"I have, not without his permission though" Ayla replied her eyes not leaving the scrolls as she read them.

"I doubt my father has given you such permission"

"I'm sure he can ease your doubts if you go to him and present them"

She left one of the scrolls to the side and took another one, breaking the seal to open it and read it.

"And later you, what? Tell him what each one of this scrolls says?"

"Not all of them, only the important ones"

"And who are you to decide what is important and what isn't?"

Ayla left the piece of scroll on the table, her fisted hand coming down on the table as well harder than what she intended, giving it a slam.

"I am the person who the Hand of the King has named and trusts to decide what is important and what isn't" she spat. She was having recent difficulty controlling her outbursts.

Her eyes focused behind Larys, the open arch gave way to the entrance and the figure of Harwin, who was approaching them with a frown after having changed his armor and not have his every move accounted for with the noise it made.

"You best leave" she muttered only to him, giving that Harwin was approaching them with clear intentions of figuring out why a table had been smashed in anger.

Larys stood and left her, not without giving him a winning smirk and avoiding his brother's stare.

Harwin stared down at his brother as he retreated from the office, then Ayla who was reading the scrolls with fire in her eyes.

He took one of the chairs and pulled it around the desk, setting it next to her and sitting down on it.

"What happened?"

"Nothing" she dismissed almost too fast. Harwin's hand came to her stomach and she leaned back on the chair to give him more access.

"That didn't sound like nothing" he pushed.

"Your brother likes to undermine me, that's all"

"And you don't think something should be done about that?"

"I can handle your brother"

"Maybe I don't want you to handle my brother. Maybe I want to handle him for you"

Ayla chuckled once, leaving the scrolls and placing her hand over his, her eyes finally meeting his.

"Do you consider me so thin skinned, husband?"

Harwin held her stare. Every second of every day she challenged his mind with questions and scenarios and what to say and how to react. Though it was true they had only known each other for barely a year, he enjoyed when the conversations weren't one sided, when she didn't recoil, when she didn't retreat, when she looked at him through her lashes as she quipped a remark.

He felt like he knew her like the back of his hand, and even though she prided herself in being a little conniver and mysterious, she was actually an open book.

"I consider you too thick skinned and too stubborn for your own good" his hand moved to run the back of his finger on her cheek "I think that you hold too much in, it's okay to let your guard down sometimes"

He knew he was right in his assumptions by the way her lips tightened and she swallowed in nervousness.

"I can't let my guard down, it's not who I am, I'm always on the offensive and you now that" she wanted to scream 'specially not with Larys'. But she didn't. She felt it was still too soon to let Harwin know about her suspicions of his involvement in the attempt of her murder at her wedding.

"It's going to break you someday"

"I'm far from my breaking point, Harwin"

With the hardness in her voice, Harwin only nodded and leaned in for a short kiss to her forehead. He would have to pay double attention to her now.

It took Ayla another month before she finally broke. It started with the disaster she witnessed when she saw the first one of the new dresses presented to her, she thanked the seamstress and told her she wouldn't be needing the others, then proceeded to tear it down and redoing most of it, cursing to herself and wondering why in the Seven Hells would she wear three layers of fabric clinging to her waist and puffed long sleeves in the hot summer the were currently passing through.

She took to make her own in the style she wore in the Vale with the help of Grayce, who found the sleeveless and open cleavage a bit too much for a pregnant woman, but made Harwin stop in his tracks when he saw her walk the corridors.

She had taken a new responsability whilst working with Lord Lyonel, besides now looking at the majority of his mail as it reached the Tower, he had also asked for her to look through the other letters, the kinds he wished he'd never asked her to look for. Marriage proposals.

It wasn't long after Grayce's sixteenth name day that he asked, trusting that Ayla would know enough and use her feminine intuition to find her a suitable partner. The first time she read through them, he was sitting across them also entertaining some with her.

"You're not blind, are you?" She asked all the sudden, looking at him over the letter. They had gotten along so well since she started helping him that she took the liberty of speaking to him freely.

Lord Lyonel had also taken to treat her like his own daughter. His eyes lingered on hers before she spoke.

"I am not. But I feel your father would have my head if I even presented that offer"

"I feel the same" she said with a sigh "I told my brother to not pursue this adventure with Grayce. I don't know how well either of them are going to take this"

"We shall see" was the only thing he said. Ayla did ask him to not tell either of them that she had any involvement or opinions.

Her very stressful week ended, when she was about eight weeks before her babe's arrival, with a knight intercepting her in the hallway as she intended to reach the Hand's office near the room of the Small Council.

Her walk was interrupted by the knight when he approached her. Her hands quickly came to her middle as she looked up and down at him with a worried frown.

"Lady Ayla" he said, taking his sleeve and turning it upside down, the crest of House Redfort revealed itself. When she recognized the sigil, she relaxed just a bit. The man looked to his side and grabbed his bag, pulling a package from it "your father prays you are careful"

Ayla took it and before she said anything, he left her in the hallway.

She walked hastily to her brother's room, since it wasn't in the tower but in the outskirts of the Keep, she found herself free from prying eyes and able to look at the package in peace. Adrian was there about to change for his practice after his shift at the city watch. They exchanged worried looks when she recalled the interaction, then sat at his bed and unwrapped the package.

Inside, she found her own letters she'd written to her father in the last month, she looked through them with a frown, then saw a wax stamp with the sigil of House Redfort. She didn't understand what any of it meant until she read the letter her father had written to her.

"My dearest daughter. I suspect, by the look of the seals, that your mail has been intercepted" she read out loud, her stomach twisted and cramped, looking at her brother with worry. He returned the same look. "I've sent you a new wax seal, more intricate and harder to replicate. Please, take care of yourself and lean on your brother while you can, I'll be in King's Landing by the birth of my grandchild as promised. I'll see you then"

They spent a good amount of time looking at the seals, noticing that they were different from the one her father had sent him. When they compared it to the one her brother had brought from the Redfort, the sigils matched to the one or her letters but were still different. The wax had been melted again, giving it a slightly darker red color than the original wax she used. Adrian noted that it smelled burnt too. He took to read some of the letters as Ayla worked on her breath, looking over the package as she thought.

"At least there isn't anything incriminating in them"

"Of course there's not. I haven't even told father of my work with Lord Lyonel. I'm not an idiot" she huffed in annoyance.

"So, what do you think we should do?"

She looked at the package and the new seal, her hand pressed against her tight stomach, uncomfortable at the twist in it that wasn't product of her child moving around.

"I think this is exactly what I needed" she took the letter and looked at it pensively "up until this moment I only had hearsay to go against Larys. But if he's truly intercepting my mail hoping that I'm telling my father about my work with Lord Lyonel, then I finally have something to accuse him with"

She looked at her brother. He left the letter and leaned forward, his forearms coming to his legs.

"I think we still have to confirm it's him, that he forged the seal"

"How?"

"You send a letter" he began to explain "like normal, seal it and take it to the maesters, where do they usually send them from?"

"I send the scrolls from the east tower, with the ravens that go to the Vale"

"Next time you send one I'll be there, I'll be able to back you up if they don't believe you"

"Harwin already knows that his brother and I don't get along, he's witnessed some of those fights, so have his sisters. Lord Lyonel... I don't know if he'll turn against him though"

Ayla took a deep breath, feeling her stomach tighten on its own again. She pressed her hand at her base and the top. Adrian's hand carefully came on top of hers.

"Do you need to go to the maesters? Does it hurt?"

"No" she released her breath "it's just uncomfortable"

"I'll take you to your room to rest"

Two days later, Ayla stormed into the common area, walked to the table were Larys was sitting and having some tea, then threw the wax seal on the table. It clattered two times before it rolled next to his tea pot. He looked at her with interest.

"You're spying on my personal letters now?" She accused.

"I don't understand what you mean"

"Don't fuck with me Larys" she threatened, the angry scowl she had in her face was one Larys had rarely seen, using a language so foul that she hoped would convey her state, giving that she didn't look so menacing whilst pregnant.

Ayla had seen from her peripheral Jaena round the corner wearily and look at them fight, a book hugged against her chest.

"What is it going to take for you to drop your suspicions against me? How many more of your accusations will I have to fend? Are you ready to call my child a bastard as well?"

Larys looked very unimpressed, eyeing her from the table, twisted to the side, it infuriated her even more.

"Sadly that can't be said of you. I believe the child, though collateral damage, is my brothers'"

"Collateral?" She whispered, twisting her head slightly to the side.

Jaena had approached them and now stood between them, her head bobbed from side to side following both parts of the argument.

"You spied on her letters?" She asked, her high pitch voice giving away her disbelief. Larys didn't answer "how do you know that?" She now asked Ayla.

"My father sent me back my letters with the forged wax seal, your steel workers aren't as good as you think they are" Ayla spat accusingly, her eyes never leaving Larys'.

"Why would you do that?" Jaena asked to Larys again. He just scoffed at her and shook his head.

"I won't waste my breath in explaining things that are beyond your understanding. I had my reasons and you need not to know them"

Jaena seemed to have taken great offense at Larys' dismissiveness. Jaena threw the book on the table angrily and turned around.

"Jaena" Ayla said wearily "where are you going?"

"To look for my brother" she continued walking. Ayla now walked behind her and attempted to catch her

"Jaena, please don't" she begged "I don't want to involve Harwin"

"Enough is enough, Ayla" she whipped around, also looking at her with a begging frown "and it's not because of you, it's because he called me shortsighted and I will not have that"

"Jaena, please" Ayla begged again, her voice quivered when Jaena turned on her heels again and walked out. She let out a shaky sigh, then straightened herself and turned around.

Larys had not stood up from his seat, but he definitely tensed when Ayla turned and then, out the sudden, smiled.

She hadn't planned for Jaena to be there, much less for her to defend her given that Jaena seemed to be avoiding Ayla as well as her own sister. It had all gone perfectly.

After dedicating a winning smile to Larys, she headed up to her room. All she had to do now was wait.

Not even ten minutes after she laid back on the loveseat in front of the fire, Harwin stormed in the room, standing in front of her with his hands fisted at his sides.

"Speak" he demanded. She took a breath, ready to tell him to drop it and it was nothing, but Harwin anticipated that. He leaned over her and gripped each armrest of the love seat, his eyes and jaw hardening on her "Ayla, speak"

She swallowed, thinking that maybe things had gotten out of hand. She shrunk under his stare, feeling no longer in control of the situation.

"Ayla" he called again. She figured Harwin already knew everything, but he needed to hear it from her.

"Larys has been weary of me since I... Well, since always. Now he's taken to read my letters to my father because he thinks I'm sending him information about the work I do for your father"

Harwin huffed and pulled back. "How do you know that?"

She moved to stand up, Harwin's hand shoot up instantly in front of her. She took it and stood up heavily from the chair.

"My father sent me back my letters" she searched in one of the drawers of Harwin's desk, tucked back and covered was the package her father had sent her. She gave it to him and he inspected it.

"How do you know they are forged?" He asked, looking at the seals. His demeanor had calmed, he now spoke sternly but in an even tone, she didn't feel like he would suddenly burst in shouts.

"The seals, they're different, and the was has been melted twice"

"Where's your seal?" He motioned at the drawers where Ayla kept her things for writing letters, she searched for it and gave it to him.

"I only learned about this two days ago" she murmured, feeling herself shrink at his heavy gaze.

"Why would my brother go through all this trouble to look at your letters?"

Ayla could only roll her eyes, feeling her throat tighten.

"Because he's got it in his head that I only married you for my father to get Harrenhal, for him to work with his troops there, he thinks I give him information about the Hand, about the state of the troops here, the captains, to hopefully get him here to be the Master of War. He thinks that I'm just using you, that I don't love you, that our -"

She stopped herself to take a breath, holding both hands to her stomach as she felt it twist. Heavy tears streamed down her face and Harwin wiped them with the back of his hand.

"Our child what?" He pushed. He had heard enough, the word vomit in her part had been genuine and persuasive enough to want to make him go down there and tear his brother appart. She refused to speak when he demanded it "our child what, Ayla?" He tried again, now taking another step to her and leaning his head down to meet her gaze.

"I don't know what he's implying" she said after letting out a shaky breath. She shrugged "I truly don't know, and I don't want to think about it"

Ayla's shoulders slumped when Harwin took a step to the side and began walking out of the room.

He skipped the steps and walked with the package in hand. Both of his sister's, Adrian  and his own father were talking around the table, as soon as his eyes focused on Larys sitting next to his father, he quickened his pace. With clear intentions on his face, his father took a step to him and extended his hands to stop him, so did Adrian, attempting to grab him from his arm.

"Today is the last day you will speak to my wife Larys, I am done with your disrespect" he said through gritted teeth, his finger pointing threateningly at him over his father's shoulder.

"I will have the truth of this at once" his father demanded, making Harwin take a step back and hand his father the package.

"Ayla believes Larys has intercepted her letters, hoping to catch her inexistent treason"

"Not inexistent, but late it it's manifestation. We shall give her time" he quipped. It took a lot of self restraint for Harwin to not push his father aside and engage with Larys.

"Quiet!" Lord Lyonel demanded. Whilst he inspected the letters and the seals he wasn't a stranger to the fight between Grayce, Jaena and Larys, recalling the other instances where Larys had made distasteful comments to and about Ayla. Both Harwin and Lord Lyonel were surprised at the ongoing fight the two had and neither of them were aware of.

Ayla had given Harwin the wax seal that her father had sent her. The new one had  even more intricate fine lines in the bricks of the castle put to shame Larys' faux one. The forgery was abundantly clear then.

"I'm absolutely dumbfounded at this treachery to your own family, Larys" Lord Lyonel spoke, the disappointment and anger clear in his voice "Never mind your brother's own happiness, his union with House Redfort is the biggest alliance House Strong could have made. You could've made us a terrible enemy. You should be thankful that Lady Ayla decided to face you herself instead of presenting this matter to Lord Edder"

Larys remained quiet, searching in all the faces in front of him, finding no allies in the people in the room. He focused on a spot behind them, not wanting to look down like a scolded puppy but neither at his father's own disappointed glare.

"Larys will leave the Tower of the Hand and live in the other side of the castle at once, where he can't run into Ayla anymore" Harwin spoke with authority "if not, Ayla and I will leave for Harrenhal away from such troubles. The Gods know she's dealt with enough"

"That won't be necessary" Lord Lyonel replied, giving Harwin a quick glance "Larys will leave the Tower, I'll have accomodations settles for him right now"

Larys looked at his father, the anger he felt at his exile didn't reflect on his face, he played it nonchalantly, as if it didn't cut him deeply that his whole family had chosen a woman that had been part of it for less than a year. Instead he bottled his feelings and diligently stood up, shuffling with his cane as we walked to the front door of the Tower.

Harwin approached him and cut off his walk, looking down at him with a glint of sadness in his eyes.

"I'm saddened that this had to be this way. But I will not allow such disrespect towards my wife and child  from anyone. As far as I'm concerned I no longer have a brother"

Taglist: @her-fandom-sanctum @mostclevermiss @mostlyskateboarding @evyiione @agentstarkid @stitchattacks @grimistangel

[harwinsgirl]

The ABC’s of Loving Harwin

E is for Egg

(Hello! This is a series of drabbles that I’m starting to help keep me writing while allowing me to not get burnt out working on some of my longer fics. The tradition in this story is based off of cascaróns, which is a sweet Mexican tradition that I’ve found interesting ever since I was a little girl!)

For the past three nights, you and the other servant girls had stayed up until the early hours of the morning working on various tasks related to the Princess’s upcoming wedding to Laenor Velaryon. Whether that was creating flower arrangements, trimming candle wicks, or bustling about the kitchens, it was an all hands on deck type of event. You were tasked with one of the more tedious chores, which was hollowing out and cleaning chicken eggs.

Despite the laborious handiwork, it wasn’t a job you minded being asked to do. It had become a much loved tradition at weddings in Westeros; young maidens would crack a decorated egg over the head of their beloved or an eligible lord that they fancied. You had dyed the eggs red in berry soaked water and were currently focused on etching intricate designs on their shiny exteriors. Carefully, each egg was filled with tiny shreds of colorful ribbons and paper. You had lost count, but dozens and dozens of eggs had been carefully placed in woven baskets, plenty for Princess Rhaenyra’s guests to choose from.

The princess and her betrothed had requested a small ceremony, although their celebration was anything but. Everyone had crammed into the dining hall of the Red Keep for a delicious meal and young couples sprang up between the tables, dancing and filling the air with laughter. You preoccupied yourself with fiddling with the sleeves on your dress, attempting to cover up some of the dye that still marred your skin. As if any of the partygoers were focused on a servant such as yourself, but still, you prided yourself on your ability to look presentable at any sort of royal event. You were one of Rhaenyra’s favorites, earning you a few tokens of appreciation now and again, such as the scarlet ribbon in your hair and the ruby necklace that matched your satin gown. For such an event as this, it mattered that everyone looked their best.

The night never seemed to wane; after one event, another quickly supplanted it. There had been poetry readings, fencing, festive dancing, and lords bringing forth large, extravagant gifts for the newly wedded couple. Finally, the moment you had been waiting for had arrived. Your heart leapt as soon as you were given the order to bring out the baskets of eggs.

It was quite fun to watch the young ladies squeal and clamber over each other as they reached for the eggs. Despite it being such an innocuous activity, there was deeper meaning beneath it. You often learned of a lady’s true feelings this way. A young married woman would most certainly crack the egg over her husband’s head, but unmarried ladies had free reign of any other who was not yet attached. And since more often than not their marriage would be arranged by their lords and fathers, allowing them this silly little practice was much welcomed. They could declare their truth, even if it was only for a night. Disorderly, child-like, and wildly chaotic, it was certainly your favorite part of the reception.

After most guests turned in for the night, returning to their rooms, the servants lingered in the hall, picking at leftovers from the feast and drinking the last of the wine. A few members of the kingsguard were still at a few dining tables, finishing the remnants of their meal and gobbling down the rest of their ale. Servers leaned against the wall and handmaidens danced to the last song the bard was playing. You found yourself amongst no particular group, resting against a windowsill, content with casually observing.

You noticed a giggly handmaiden reach for one of the remaining eggs. She shushed her friends, who would’ve undoubtedly alerted her prey if they had continued with their noise. Ever so quietly, she made her way over to one of the chefs, who currently had an entire chicken leg in his mouth.

CRACK!

He swung around to see her retreating towards her group, a smile washing over his face when he heard her cackle with delight. The young boy immediately abandoned his plate and rushed from the table, making his way to her, picking her up in his arms and spinning her around.

The young couple caused quite the commotion, and a chain reaction as well. The other servant girls rushed for the basket of eggs, unleashing a torrent of attacks on the remaining men. Not wanting to be left out, you dashed over to the basket and grabbed the last egg that was hidden amongst the straw.

Frantically you searched the hall, surveying your dwindling options. You saw a large figure, hunched over a silver platter, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him.

That’s the one!

Quick on your feet, you made your way over to his table and smashed the egg over his head, bright colored ribbons getting lost in his dark, curly hair.

Your chest heaving with excitement, you stood rooted to the spot, waiting for the stranger you had chosen to turn around. The wooden chair creaked as the man stood up. From this proximity you were able to see to that he was a member of the kingsguard, something you had failed to notice before, his white cloak falling over his broad shoulders and down his back.

You were met with the most beautiful blue eyes that you had ever seen (and they belonged to a man!). Defined, rugged features, perfectly tousled hair, and smooth, tanned skin, you regretted your choice almost instantly. He was absolutely gorgeous and it had caught you off guard, your mind offering you no solutions to the problem you created. If it was someone you knew better, like another servant, you’d be able to laugh it off and chalk it up to being carried away by the frenzy of the night. Leave it to you to bother a knight, and a criminally attractive one at that.

“What’s your name, ser?” You blurted out. Your cheeks were crimson red when he simply barked out a laugh in response.

“Ser Harwin Strong.” He finally answered, taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. You breathed heavily, unable to break his gaze. He flashed you a a dazzling smile that lit a fire somewhere deep in your belly.

“Oh, and you had better run, my lady,” he continued, his voice light with amusement, but with a hint of something more in its tone.

“Because when I catch you, there’s no telling what I’ll do.”

@vainillasmil157

[welldonebeca]

The Christmas War (1)

Summary: Rhaenyra invites Harwyn to spend the holidays at Valyria, so he can spend it with their boys. And Laenor. And Daemon.   Now all three of Jace, Luke and Joff's fathers are in a single house, and trying to compete to be the favourite one. It is every man for himself.

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Masterlist

Rhaenyra and Harwyn broke up because of Daemon.

In hindsight, it was obvious it was going to happen.

Laena, his first wife, had died and, after 6 months of grieving, he was back, and suddenly being platonically married to a man while keeping a sexual relationship with another wasn't enough for her. She wanted a full marriage.

On one hand, it wasn't unexpected to Harwyn. She never hid her love for Daemon, in the Targaryen strange way.

On the other... well, they had been in their relationship for, what? Over a decade?

It stung a little.

Then, of course, she told him they were moving to Valyria, so they could get married and wanted to take the three boys with her. Joffrey was just a little baby, he couldn't tear him away from his mother. And Jace and Luke said they wanted to go, so what could he do?

He wasn't even on the birth certificate of the three.

When Jace was born he didn't know he was his, Rhaenyra just said they took after her grandfather.

And then Luke came, and it was obvious but Laenor insisted he was his son too and that he was the one raising them, so why would Harwyn put his name on it?

And he was young and didn't mind. It was less responsibility, he could just be the fun uncle!

Rhaenyra always let him have as much access to them as he could want.

And then Joffrey came along, and why change the system? They even named him after Laenor's long-time boyfriend.

So she left for Valyria and married her uncle, and he was left behind in Westeros.

He started bonding with Laenor after that. They shared three children, after all, why wouldn't they be at least friends?

They visited the boys together for their birthdays - Leanor even paid for his tickets once, when he was in between jobs and couldn't afford it.

He was a very good friend.

Of course, at Valyria, they discovered the boys had acquired another father. A third one.

Daemon.

And their parenting styles... could differ. Sometimes.

Laenor was the comforting kind, always physically affectionate with the boys, a little overprotective sometimes.

Harwyn tried to do his best with the little time he had. There was no time to be a disciplinarian or teach them things.

Daemon expected things from them, the boys.

Harwyn and Laenor had watched Joffrey fall on his ass from trying to ride his bike, exchange a strong look with Daemon, and just get up and do it again.

So yes, between the two countries, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey had three very different fathers, one stepfather and one mother.

Their Christmas was usually spent in Driftmark, with their grandparents, Laenor and Joffrey - who had gotten married sometime after the divorce -, and Harwyn and Laena's daughters, Baela and Rhaena.

... who were also Daemon's children.

Every year, he would be invited to go spend the last two weeks of the year with the Velaryons and would be the one driving everyone to the airport, where someone would fly with them to Valyria and then back.

Until that year, when Daemon asked for Christmas to be held in Valyria, in their state.

Harwyn was worried about it. Christmas was his time. The boys would already spend Summer with Laenor, and he could only get a couple of days with them at his house once every two weekends because of work, why would he give up on spending the holiday with his sons?

But then the boys asked him, all three of them. And he couldn't say no.

Rhaenyra was nice enough to pay for him to fly business class and to give him a room in her own house, so he could spend as much time with the boys as possible.

She even sent him the list of stuff the boys said they wanted through their year, so he could surprise them - usually, he would ask them directly, but he wouldn't skip on the opportunity of looking like he had guessed their perfect gifts!

So Harwyn was pretty confident about what he was packing when his luggage was taken, and he sat down with Joffrey and Laenor to wait for their plane.

"Checking the tracking?" he sat down, finding Laenor on his phone.

"Nyra said they just got there," he locked the screen. "She's going to put them under the tree."

He hummed positively.

"And your parents?"

"They took the kids to the theatre last night," he unlocked it again, clicking on the gallery. "They just sent me a picture, hold up."

Harwyn leaned onto the phone and smiled when Laenor finally found the photo of Rhaenys and Corlys surrounded by the grandchildren, with 3D glasses and popcorn.

Gods, he missed them.

He sat back on his seat, watching as Laenor set it as his phone screen, and making a mental note that maybe he should try and take a picture with all three so he could do the same. Maybe he could be in the picture too, he barely had photos with them.

Joffrey - the adult one that his son was named after - came back with coffee and bagels, giving Harwyn some before sitting down with Laenor.

"Did you show them the picture with your parents?"

"Yeah," his husband told him, and then showed him his phone. "I made it my screen."

Officially, Harwyn was coming as Laenor's friend. Rumoured third in their relationship. 

It was strange, not being the father of his own children.

As far as he knew, Rhaenyra's whole family accepted the idea that the boys just resembled her mother's father - which they kind of did, if Harwyn wasn't around - so he couldn't quite claim them in public. No custody or sleeping at his house, or anything that would be weird with a friend of the family.

It was his choice, back then. When he sat with Rhaenyra and Laenor, and they talked about Luke and Jace, but now a part of him secretly regretted it.

He was their father, after all.

It was what echoed in his thought as he stared out the window of the plane.

Maybe it was time to start asking for more. More time with them, more acknowledgement.

Legally, he couldn't do much - Laenor certainly would put up a fight and Harwyn would hate to lose the friendship between them - between all three of them, Rhaenyra included - but they had to reach an agreement.

Harwyn wouldn't leave without one.

It sparked something in his mind.

Maybe he could get the boys to ask just as well.

"Hey," he turned to Laenor. "Do you have Rhaenyra's address there? I forgot... a thing. At home." "I'll just get it delivered there."

"Sure," Laenor grabbed his phone. "I'll just text it to you."

He hummed positively, checking the list again.

Rhaenyra had told him to not buy Luke a dirt bike, but he suddenly couldn't find a text of hers saying that.

It was so strange.

And Jace certainly had space for a Tolkien special edition boxed set.

Joff would love some bath crayons and pavement chalk, he could decorate the whole house with them, his little artist.

He added as many gifts as he could realistically pay for - and he could realistically pay for a lot of things - and set them to deliver a couple of days before Christmas.

Harwyn had two whole weeks to show his sons how great of a father he was.

…

“The Christmas War” is being posted on my Patreon two weeks before it comes to Tumblr and AO3! To have early access to all of my works, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month!

. . .

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[criminalamnesia]

Matchmaker

warnings: not proofread, she/her pronouns used, no use of Y/N, reader is Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting, part 1 of a miniseries ( part two here )

summary: You and harwin fancy each other, but neither of you will make the move. Rhaenyra decides to play matchmaker.

author’s note: the urge to just make this a reader x Rhaenyra fic was strong, but I’m still missing Harwin. also this is going to be a miniseries!

“I believe someone fancies you, my lady,” Rhaenyra grinned knowingly at you as you helped her dress for the day.

You rolled your eyes, your fingers making quick work of stringing together the laces of her dress.

“Must you bring this up again, Princess?” You asked tiredly, pulling the lace tight. Rhaenyra gave a breathy chuckle.

“It is my duty to bring it up until you act upon it.” The Princess moved a hand up to gather her hair to the side, giving you better visage to complete your work. It was in vain, however. You had been doing this for so long, you could do most of your duties blindfolded.

“As you wish, Princess.” You replied resignedly. You finished tying the laces, moving your hands to smooth down the her arms. Rhaenyra smiled, breaking herself free from your touch as she turned to face you.

“You are helpless, and an awful liar. It is clear you fancy him as well. Must I make the move for you?”

“Absolutely not.” You replied quickly, wagging a finger at her in protest. You knew Rhaenyra well– it was your job. You’d been her lady-in-waiting for years, and the time had made you into close friends.

So you knew she was absolutely not joking about setting you up with her sworn protector, Ser Harwin Strong.

She fell quiet, and you hoped against your better judgement that she had dropped the subject. You moved away from her to grab a hairbrush, gently placing your hands on her shoulders to turn her back to you once more.

“He has spoken very highly of you in your absence,” she told you, matter-of-factly.

“At your insistence, I presume,” you huffed a laugh, slipping the brush through her silken hair.

“Of his own accord, if you must know. Ser Harwin and I have very few things in common. Our love of you is one of them.”

You rolled your eyes once more, continuing to run the brush through her hair.

“You spend far too much time worrying over me,” you told her, setting the brush back down onto a nearby table. You ran your fingers through her hair, and felt satisfaction at the absence of tangles. You stepped back from the Princess as she turned to you once more.

“I think I do not spend enough. You are on a path to dying a lonely woman, withering as you brush my hair,” she jested, but you shook your head.

“I will not be lonely if I am by your side, Princess.”

She waved a hand in dismissal, reaching past you to grab a goblet of water.

“I fear you will outlive me– politics are so boring they may lead me to an early grave. And then what will you do?”

“You are so dramatic,” you couldn’t help but give a small giggle at her words.

She grinned at you before taking a sip from her goblet. When she was finished, she set it back on the table before placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Jesting aside,” her voice was softer now, more intimate. “You are the loveliest person I have had the pleasure of knowing. It would be a shame for the only person to experience your loveliness be me.”

“You flatter me, Princess. Are you sure you are not the one who fancies me?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes now. Over the years, the pair of you had grown familiar with the whispering around the keep. More than once had you heard of rumors circulating that you and Rhaenyra were lovers– but you paid them no mind. Rhaenyra was famously taken with Daemon, and you– well, you were too taken with your job.

She breathed a heavy sigh as she removed her hands from your shoulders. “You are hopeless.”

A knock sounded at the door to her quarters, causing both you and Rhaenyra to turn towards the sound.

“Come in.” Rhaenyra called, and the wooden door swung open to reveal a knight you knew well.

“Ser Harwin, to what do we owe the pleasure? It is not yet time for your watch,” Rhaenyra spoke, and you could detect a hint of glee in her tone. As they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Apologies, Princess,” he said, eyes flicking between you and Rhaenyra. You felt your cheeks heat as his gaze lingered a second too long on you, and you silently cursed for Rhaenyra for being right, as always. “The Queen has summoned you to her quarters. I am to escort you.”

Rhaenyra sighed, hands smoothing down the skirts of her dress. You gave her a knowing look– a be nice look– and she stuck her tongue out at you.

“So childish,” you muttered, waving her off and walking towards Harwin. Rhaenyra followed leisurely behind.

“Shouldn’t you be in front of us, Princess?” You asked as the three of you entered the corridor, turning you head over you shoulder to glance at her. She was grinning mischievously, and you narrowed your eyes at her.

“Of course, my lady. My apologies,” she said as she skipped forward, placing herself well over a foot in front of you and Harwin as the three of your walked.

Harwin chuckled quietly at your side, causing you to turn your head towards him.

“Is something funny?” You questioned, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“The Princess is quite determined to push us together, it seems.”

Your face reddened, eyes widening in shock as you whipped your head back to face forward. You had never imagined Harwin to be so… forthright.

You saw him grin out of the corner of your eye, his gaze locked upon you.

“You look lovely today, my lady,” he told you.

You cleared your throat, clutching your hands together behind your back. You were sure you looked like quite a sight– face beet red and hands ghostly white.

“Thank you, Ser.” You managed to get out, glancing quickly at him to maintain some air of politeness.

He chuckled once more. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“Fine,” you spoke with a weak nod of confirmation. “Just planning a regicide,” you muttered that last part, but Harwin heard you loud and clear. He barked a laugh, causing Rhaenyra to turn her head. She grinned widely in triumph before turning back around.

“Treasonous words, my lady. They could have your tongue for that. Perhaps hang you if they so pleased.” He told you, his armored arm brushing against yours as you walked.

“I only jest, Ser.” You replied.

“Mhm, I should hope so,” he hummed, leaning his head down so he was level with your ear. “It would pain me to no longer see your beauty around the keep.”

You felt like you were standing in fire, the way your face burned. Harwin seemed satisfied with himself as he stood straight once more, hastening his steps slightly to catch up with Rhaenyra.

You silently cursed to yourself as you jogged to catch them.

—

“What did he say to you earlier? You never told me,” Rhaenyra smiled toothily, her head resting in your lap as you sat under the Weirwood tree.

You had been reading notes she had written for you the other day, all in Valyrian. Rhaenyra had spoken about teaching you for years, and you had learned a handful of words and phrases– but the two of you seldom spent your leisure time poring over scribbles and pages.

You mostly spent your time speaking whatever came to mind– and right now, that happened to be Harwin Strong.

“Nothing,” you spoke, placing the parchment you’d been holding on the ground beside you.

She shook her head, sitting up to face you. “You dare lie to your Princess?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at her shoulder. She laughed, grabbing your hand and holding it in hers.

“I hope he did not embarrass you. You looked almost like a tomato.”

You groaned, reaching your free hand up to cover your face in embarrassment. “I knew it!”

“It’s alright,” Rhaenyra smiled, intertwining her fingers with yours. “I think you look quite cute as a tomato.”

“This was your doing,” you lowered your hand, pointing a finger at her. “You caused this.”

“Caused what? Did he tell you he fancied you? Are you to see each other tonight?” Her eyes widened in excitement, clutching your hand tightly.

“No, nothing of that sort. He only called me beautiful– well, not explicitly, but–”

Rhaenyra swooned, falling back to rest her head in your lap once again. She still clutched your one hand, and you chuckled at her antics.

“I cannot wait for the wedding.”

You huffed, slipping your hand from her grasp. “It is almost as if you concern yourself with my suitors just to escape your own.”

She bristled at the mention of her suitors. The King had been attempting to set up matches for her, but Rhaenyra had turned every single one down.

You frowned, placing a hand in her hair. “I am sorry, Princess. I did not mean–”

“It is alright,” she assured you, her eyes locking with yours. “Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable.”

“You have not,” you confirmed, and she nodded. The two of you fell silent for a moment, both caught up in your own thoughts.

“He always asks about you when you are not with me.”

“Rhaenyra,” you began, but she continued.

“I do not jest when I say he is fond you. I see you are fond of him, as well. The pair of you always walk side by side when we are together. You whisper to each other constantly. It’s quite annoying, really.”

“We speak of nothing you think of. Goings on about the keep, what’s for dinner, the visiting families– dull things, really.”

Rhaenyra hummed, obviously casting aside your answer in favor of her more interesting one.

“I shall leave it alone if that if what you wish. But I beg of you, put yourself and me out of both our miseries and speak to him.”

You sighed, running your fingers through her silver strands.

“If it pleases the Princess.”

“Oh, don’t start!” She cried, sitting up. You grinned.

“As the Princess commands.”

She laughed, moving to stand. You followed, gathering the long-forgotten parchment in your hands.

“I’m to be at the dragon pit soon. I take it you do not wish to join me?” She cocked an eyebrow.

You shook your head. “I fear the day I join you is the day you pull me atop Syrax.”

She laughed. “One of these days I will have you join me for a ride.”

“One of these days,” you conceded. She gave a nod and turned, making her way towards one of her guards. He followed her without question, and you watched them until they disappeared into a corridor.

You inhaled deeply, making sure you had grabbed all of the parchment before beginning to make your way back to your own quarters.

“My lady,” a man’s voice caught you off guard in one corridor. You turned, hands clutching the parchment to your chest.

“Ser Harwin. I’m afraid the Princess is not with me–” you began, but he shook his head as he approached you.

“I was not looking for the Princess.”

“Oh?” You asked, surprise clear in your tone. Harwin gave a small chuckle at your expression.

“I was just on my way to the stables. Would you care to join me?”

Harwin held out an arm for you to take. You glanced down at it before looking back at his face. His smile was genuine, his eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite place– adoration, perhaps?

Slowly nodding, you shuffled your papers to one hand, looping your free hand around his arm. He began to lead you down the hallway, slowing his pace so you did not have to strain to keep up with his longer legs.

“I confess, I have not visited the stables in some time. The Princess prefers dragonback to horseback.”

He nodded absentmindedly, as if in thought.

“Ser Harwin?” You prodded, breaking him from his stupor.

“Hm?” He hummed, glancing down at you.

“Why have you invited me to the stables? I assume the commander of the city watch has more important things to do.”

“Nonsense, my lady. I am right where I need to be.”

You blushed, turning your head away in hopes he hadn’t seen. It was a futile attempt, but Harwin didn’t speak on it. Always subtle, he was.

The two of you made idle small talk as you walked to the stables. When you finally entered, your nose scrunched up at the smell of horse. It had been a while since you’d been around so many.

Harwin laughed, untwining his arm from yours so he could approach a beautiful chocolate mare in a nearby stall. The horse whinnied as he brushed a hand up its muzzle.

“Is the smell too much for you, my lady? You could wait outside–”

“Oh, no,” you assured him, moving to stand beside him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, my lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him before turning your attention to the mare. You smiled up at the creature, reaching your free hand towards its mane. It neighed, causing you to tear your hand away as if burned.

Harwin laughed once more. You glared at him, “It’s not funny.” You grumbled.

“Of course not, my lady. Here,” he removed his hand from the horse, reaching down to grab your hand instead. You froze, watching your joined hands as he reached back towards the horse.

He placed your hand gently onto its mane, his hand remaining atop yours.

“You can pet it now,” he whispered.

“Oh! Right,” you laughed sheepishly, moving your hand slightly. When the horse didn’t object, you exhaled deeply and began to stroke its mane. Harwin’s hand stayed on yours, following your movements.

“Horses have never been very fond of me,” you told him. He hummed in thought.

“It just takes patience, my lady. Dealing with the Princess, I’m sure you have plenty of that.”

“Ser Harwin!” You gasped, surprised at his words.

“I only jest. But you know as well as I that the Princess Rhaenyra can be a handful.”

You giggled as you thought of Rhaenyra, how she was so headstrong and stubborn. Harwin was certainly not lying. And although Rhaenyra could be tiring at times, you wouldn’t trade your time with her for the world.

You both fell silent for a moment, gazes falling back onto the horse. You smiled as you gained confidence, running your fingers through the horse’s mane.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” Harwin spoke, causing you to turn to him.

“Now?” You questioned disbelievingly. You had much to do before Rhaenyra returned from the dragon pit.

He nodded, finally dropping his hand from yours. You almost frowned at the loss of touch, but you caught yourself.

“I’m not sure that’s wise–”

“Just a short ride. We won’t be gone but an hour at most,” he assured you, and you swore you could see a bit of pleading in his expression.

You inhaled deeply, slowly nodding. Harwin’s mouth widened into a large grin as he began to ready your horses.

You turned then, looking for a place to leave your papers. You were sure they would not survive a horse ride, so you settled for placing them atop a nearby barrel. Hopefully no one would take them.

“Ready, my lady?” Harwin called, causing you to turn. He had made quick work of saddling up the horses. He held a rein in each hand, one horse a deep black, the other the chocolate mare you’d been petting.

“I confess, Ser,” you spoke as you followed him out of the stables. “I haven’t ridden in some time.”

“No worries,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was true to his word.

“Do you need help?” He asked as you neared the mare. You shook your head, grabbing onto the saddle and hoisting yourself up. Harwin watched, clearly impressed.

You grinned at him. “You look shocked, Ser.”

“Not shocked,” he replied, mounting his own horse. “Impressed.”

Your hands gripped the reins of your horse as you settled atop the saddle. You hadn’t lied– it had been a while since you’d ridden, but you hadn’t forgotten everything. You were just a bit rusty, and so you nodded your head at Harwin, silently telling him to take the lead.

He asked no questions, moving his horse into a slow trot as you followed behind. He led you to a gate, calling to the guards to open it. They obeyed with little question, and you soon found yourself leaving the red keep.

“Where are we going?” You called to him. He glanced back at you over his shoulder and pointed a finger at his ear, acting as if he couldn’t hear you.

“Oh, really?” You muttered to yourself as he turned back around. A second later, he had kicked his horse into a gallop, and you were right on his tail.

You paid no mind to anything but him as you urged your horse to catch him. He remained ahead– much to your frustrations– until eventually he slowed to a stop.

You blew past him, only slowing once you realized he was no longer moving. Turning your horse back around, you watched as Harwin dismounted his own.

“What are you doing?” You called to him. It was only then that you noticed your surroundings.

He had led you to a small, secluded, rocky beach. The waves lapped gently at the shore, and as you slid from your horse, you relished the calming sound.

“Have you been here before?” He asked, moving to stand beside you. You shook your head.

“No. I’m afraid I rarely leave the keep.”

He nodded in understanding. Your duties kept you busy, and unless Rhaenyra needed you on a journey, you didn’t have cause to leave.

“Perhaps one day I’ll take you to see Harrenhal.”

You smiled at that, turning your head to look up at him. He was already watching you, your eyes meeting his.

“I would love that.”

“It’s settled, then. I’m sure the Princess can live without you for a week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Rhaenyra would live– but I believe she would never forgive me for leaving her to her family for a week.”

“Then she’s welcome to accompany us.”

“I think she would rather us be alone,” you told him, alluding to Rhaenyra’s earlier scheming.

“Fair point. Well, then I suppose it would be the two of us. I hope I prove to be decent company.”

“You are the best company I have had in a while,” you spoke, turning your eyes back to the sea.

It’s not that you didn’t love Rhaenyra– you did. But when you were constantly attached to her hip, people rarely spoke to you for you. Whenever you were approached, it was typically about the Princess.

But that wasn’t true with Harwin.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he spoke, his voice soft. You felt his hand brush against yours in a phantom-like touch.

“I speak only the truth, Ser.” You replied, turning to face him once more.

He nodded. Then, his hand came up– slowly, as if he was afraid he would scare you off. He reached towards your face, brushing a wind-blown strand of hair back behind your ear, his fingers linger a second too long on the skin of your cheek.

You cleared your throat, turning back to your horse. “We should head back. I’m sure the Princess is wondering where I am.”

“Of course, my lady.”

If he was disappointed, he did not show it. He mounted his horse without question, waiting for you to mount yours before setting off the way you’d came.

[angelltheninth]

Your Handsome Rescuer

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, rescue mission, hurt/comfort, flirting, teasing, princess carry, sweet Harwin Strong, captured Princess Reader

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: Next part of my 15k follower event! The prompt was 'Harwin Strong + Princess Rescue'. I never get tired of how sweet Harwin can be.

Harwin was the first to get up in arms when he heard that you'd been kidnapped. He only saw you a few times during big events and parties but he's heard a lot about you, he wasn't about to let you get hurt by some roving band of brutes.

You on the other hand were sure that you'd be rescued, but not by one man and a handful of his most trusted soldiers rushing the abandoned fortress, on the contrary you figured your father would send a whole army after you, and granted he probably would have had Harwin not beaten him to volunteering for the rescue mission.

When you heard the commotion outside the room you were held in, you couldn't recognize any of the voices shouting over each other. It only made you more scared. Were there more bandits that heard of you being kidnapped and wanted to get a larger ransom? It wasn't unheard of.

The door was smashed open with a large crash, or rather a man crashing through it, grunting as he tried to get up only to fall unconscious on the floor.

Another man stepped through, his helmet hiding most of his face, "Princess, don't be afraid, I'm here to rescue you." He stepped into the room and smiled at you, lowering his sword in the process. He moved slowly, as to not scare you further.

Naturally you were weary of the large man no matter how his voice sounded like honey and how his smile made you have butterflies in your stomach. You pulled back, eyes narrowing, "Who sent you? What is your name?"

"Your brothers and father, and Ser Harwin Strong, please my Princess, I promise I mean no harm to you." He stopped and extended his hand for you to take, "I'm here to protect you."

He seemed to be honest, and you've heard of him before, he was held in high regard by many, including your family.

"I assure you neither I or my men will harm a single hair on your head. You're much too beautiful for our sullied hands."

"And yet you offer it to me." You smile at him, laying your hand in his, feeling how gruff it is in your delicate one, you turned it over, examining it, seeing blisters and cuts, "I see no filth on them Ser Strong."

Harwin beamed at you, his smile as bright as the sun, "That's good because I'm afraid we're running out of time, so please forgive me." Harwin sheathed his sword and picked you up, one strong hand on your shoulder, the other under your knees, mindful of your dress. You gasped when you felt his fingers press into your bare shoulder. "I will unhand you once we get away."

As he stepped outside a man came charging at you two. You let out a loud yell, hiding your head away into Harwin's shoulder, your arms flung around his next. Seeing as his arms were occupied he did the only thing he could, he headbutted the man. So hard you could hear the metal ringing and clank as it fell to the stone floor.

"Princess, are you alright?" You registered his words, and the worry in them, but you were rendered momentarily speechless by the beauty and handsomeness of his features.

"Uhm... yes... yes I am. Thank you." Hopefully he was distracted enough not to notice you becoming flustered. Judging by his smile and wink he was not. Your body burned from head to toe the longer he stared at you, "S-Shouldn't we get moving?"

"Of course. Let's get you out of here shall we?" Harwin took off running in the direction of the exit, his arms around you, keeping you safe and secure the entire time.

[fairysluna]

MASTERLIST | Harwin Strong.

Nothing yet.

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR. (smut)

When the Red Keep is attacked, Ser Harwin is the one in charge of your protection. Spending the night by your side, he finds it hard to keep his emotions under control.

Taking care of his wife. (fluff)

Training with his lover. (fluff)

[ireneispunk]

how they hold you x HoTD men

i saw these photosets and could NOT refuse! so here are the HoTD men and how (i imagine) they would hold you included: aemond, daemon, jacaerys, aegon, criston cole, harwin strong

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

+bonus

[drakoneve]

A Father’s Love

request: Hii!! I was wondering if you could do a aemond imagine where you are jace twin sister so you have the strong look! Viserys decided to marry you off to aemond to prevent the bloodshed and your first born a son comes out with the the dark brown hair and aegon starts teasing his brother about it because it’s like karma hit the greens about having a targaryean with a dark hair but aemond ends up protecting you and your child from all the comments coming from the greens. Thank you 🤍

pairing: aemond targaryen x y/n velaryon (strong)

word count: 2k

warning: mentions of pregnancy & childbirth, canon typical violence (protective aemond)

a/n: i think aemond’s son having the strong look would change his view of rhaenyra & her boys

When you were still but a girl your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, explained to you that you would have your husband picked out for you in an arranged marriage. You didn’t quite understand it then, but the picture became clearer as you got older. 

By the time you were one and ten your grandsire King Viserys had declared you would marry your uncle Aemond born of the same year. The arrangement came after the night of your aunt Laena’s funeral, when Aemond claimed Vhagar for his own and your younger brother Lucerys struck out his left eye.

You were close with Aemond when you were children, but after the night he lost his eye, Rhaenyra moved your family to Dragonstone. Your relationship with Aemond had been reduced down to letters over the last six years. He wrote once and he expressed his fear that you might not love him because of the scar on his face due to the response of the whispers from the Keep. You assured him something so trivial as an old wound would not deter the feelings you already held for him.

The only people you told about the letters you exchanged with Aemond was your twin, Jacaerys, and your mother. Jacaerys didn’t like the idea of you marrying your uncle at first, but when you read him some of the sweeter things Aemond had written you, Jacaerys decided your uncle wasn’t the worst man you could possibly marry. Rhaenyra didn’t mind her younger brother and was more concerned about what Alicent could do to you upon your return.

Your reunion with Aemond went profoundly well as you promised it would, and the two of you married within weeks of your return to King’s Landing. Though Rhaenyra, your brothers, and uncle/new step-father Daemon attended the wedding celebrations, they didn’t stay long after the celebrations concluded. You understood because of the tensions between your mother and Queen Alicent, but it didn’t make you miss your family any less.

Aemond helped, however, as he loved having you by his side at all times. He walked you to your lessons, invited you to watch him train, he accompanied you to dress fittings. With all the attention you’d been receiving from your proud husband it came as no surprise to anyone when Aemond announced at dinner one night that you were officially with child. 

From that moment on Aemond’s tendencies to keep a watchful eye on you even worse. Any moment he couldn’t remain by your side he assigned two of his very own hand picked Kingsguard knights to accompany you. Thankfully your pregnancy went as smoothly as possible, all things considered. You had mild nausea through the majority but eventually it relented and things were smooth from there.

Labor was long, and incredibly painful, so much so the maester advised if you’d squeezed any harder you’d have broken Aemond’s hand. Aemond had stayed by your side from the moment you informed him your labors had begun and refused to leave your side despite some of the arguing of the maester and most of the midwives. Finally after about fourteen hours, you gave birth to a healthy chubby, brown haired boy. 

So focused on the newborn babe laid contently on your chest you hardly registered that your mother-in-law Queen Alicent had entered the room. Despite being nothing but kind towards her, Alicent never made a move to return the same sentiment. 

But Aemond noticed. He watched as his mother’s face contorted into a look of disgust as she glared, glared down at the babe on your chest. He watched as his mother forced a smile on her face. Her dead eyes said everything Aemond needed to know.

“He’s a little darling,” Alicent forced through her fake smile. 

Soon after Taelon’s birth, rumors began spreading around the Keep of his legitimacy. Your lady in waiting, Lilian had been the first to mention the rumors to you one morning as she brushed and braided your hair. The most popular whisperers were ones along the lines of that your son had been conceived while Aemond was away or that you had laid with your brother Jacaerys instead.

You mentioned them to Aemond later that same day when you met him for tea, and he told you he’d already heard with them and was working towards finding the source of such blasphemy so it would be properly taken care of.

Almost a whole month later, however, and Aemond did not yet have the source. At least, that’s what he told you. The whole time he knew it was his own mother, Alicent, that was spreading the rumours throughout the Keep. For weeks he turmoiled in anguish and fury that resulted deep in his gut as he worked his mind for a solution. 

He couldn’t decide whether, or more accurately, just how to confront his mother on the subject. The news of the arrival of your mother and the rest of your family arriving in King’s Landing provided the well needed distraction for Aemond, and you.

You and Aemond await side by side as your family approaches, you with Taelon swaddled in your arms. Rhaenyra reaches you first, kissing your face several times before looking down to the babe in your arms. “Oh,” Rhaenyra cooes at your son. “He’s gorgeous, my dear. You’ve done wonderfully.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her, and offer her your son. She takes him in her arms happily. 

Jacaerys appears by your side and pulls you into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, sister.”

“And I, you, brother.” you whisper to him. 

Lucerys and Joffrey join the hug, but soon lurch away as you begin to ruffle their thick, dark hair. 

“You boys have grown into fine young men! I cannot believe how tall you all are,” you gape at your brothers. 

Aemond places his hand at the small of your back and pulls you into his side. “My wife is quite right, nephews. It pleases me to see the man my own son is sure to grow into.”

Jacaerys can’t hide the shock in his face as he studies his uncle for any malicious intentions. Lucerys grasps your hand like he did when he was first learning how to walk and would use you to support himself. Rhaenyra’s eyes widen at Aemond in shock and she looks to your for an answer. All you give her is a shrug as you take your son from her arms and look back to your family. Your mother, brothers, stepfather Daemon, standing with you, your husband, and newborn son. Something you once thought to be impossible, happening in front of your own eyes.

You knew after everything that happened between Aemond and Lucerys the night Aemond claimed Vhagar the dynamics in your family would never be the same. For a long time Aemond held a deep, vicious hatred for Lucerys. To be honest you didn’t exactly blame him. After Aemond finally opened up to you about some of his insecurities and frustrations regarding the loss of his eye and the scar that came as a result, and it helped you understand these fears and insecurities is what fueled his hatred for your brother. Over time, as you fell in love with Aemond even more and convinced him of your feelings, he began to feel less insecure.

The welcoming party disbursed as your family began to settle into the palace for their stay. Word of their arrival has spread throughout the Keep by now, and your grandsire Viserys ordered a large feast to celebrate not only the birth of your son, but the union of the entirety of House Targaryen under one roof. At first the plans made you anxious as you’d wanted a rather small dinner consisting of the royal family, but it seems there are other plans. 

Normally you would get ready for such events in the confines of your shared chamber with Aemond, but tonight you opted to join your mother and Daemon in their chambers. Rhaenyra asked for your help in choosing her hairstyle and accessories, an act you once cherished as a child. As you help your mother, Daemon coddles your newborn in his arms.

“He’s quite the charmer,” compliments Daemon, who is wrestling with the babe’s free flying foot. “have you chosen an egg for his cradle, tala (daughter)?”

“Not yet, uncle,” you shake your head. “Aemond wants us to pick it out together, and I haven’t had the chance to make it to the Dragonpit as of late.” You finish the parallel braids in your mother’s hair, securing them in place with delicate pins. 

“You must choose one before we leave,” he demands, not taking his eyes off your son. “I cannot, in good faith, leave my grandson knowing he has no dragon.”

Aemond appears in the chamber doorway dressed in his finest leathers. “I assure you, uncle, Taelon will have a dragon. I will make sure no son of mine goes without.”

You smile at him, taking him in for the glorious man he is. “Taelon is but a babe, sweet husband. He has no use for dragons except for our own right now.”

“Correct,” Aemond wraps one arm around your waist. “Though the sooner we choose an egg, the sooner the hatchling will come forth.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward to rest a reassuring hand in her younger brother’s shoulder. “Now's not the time to worry of such things. We’re here to celebrate Taelon.”

“Oh and celebrate we must,” you coo before scooping your son from Daemon’s arms. “Who wouldn’t want to celebrate such a handsome little face?”

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, everyone dining, drinking, dancing, and having fun. For the first time in a long time your family was collected in one room, children and all, enjoying themselves. It was well into the night when you excused yourself briefly to see Taelon to bed before returning.

You’d just settled yourself back into your seat next to Aemond when Aegon rose from his own chair. “I’d like to make a final toast,” he begins. “to Taelon, first of his name, may he grow to be handsome, healthy... and Strong.”

Aemond rises from his seat so fast the front legs lifted off the ground and it fell back onto the floor. “I’ll have your blasphemous tongue for that, ” he growled through gritted teeth. His hand fell to the hilt of his sword and he began to pull it from its sheath before rounding the side of the table to meet his brother.

“I dare you to repeat yourself.” Aemond hissed as he raised his sword to Aegon. The Kingsguard did not draw their swords, instead choosing to shield themselves and the eldest prince. “And it shall be the last thing you ever do.”

Alicent rushed towards her sons, getting in between Aemon and the Kingsguard. “That is enough!” the queen demanded, “Put away your sword, Aemond.”

You stand from your seat, tired of the insolence, and you join Aemond’s side. “Queen Alicent is right, husband. There is no need to sink yourself to such lows as this drunkard.”

The two of you returned to your chambers where Taelon slept soundly in his cradle under the watchful eyes of your lady in waiting and two guards Aemond picked for Taelon specifically. You dismissed all three, knowing the guards would take up their post outside your chamber doors. 

Aemond begins stripping down to his night clothes and you begin doing the same, keeping a watchful eye on your husband. You knew the rumors of Taelon not being Aemond’s son was beginning to get to him even though both of you knew there was no other contenders. 

As the two of you began to settle into bed, you scoot as close to Aemond as physically possible. He chuckles softly before wrapping you up in his arms. He kisses your forehead, then presses a string of soft kisses onto your hairline. 

“You should ignore your brother,” you whisper into the darkness. “He’s a fool who knows nothing of what it means to be a dutiful and loving father as you are. I’m confident Aegon doesn’t even know the twins’ names.”

Aemond laughs, “I suppose you’re right, my love...”

You sit up, placing your right hand on the pillow next to Aemond’s head for support. He reaches up to brush the long strands of your unbound hair that has fallen around your face. “What ails you, husband?”

He hesitates, eye searching your face for any sign of deceit. “I’m afraid of failing our son. Mine own father was never a constant in my life, and I fear this leaves me unable to father our son properly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you whisper. “I’ve seen the way you watch over him. I mean, the way you protected him tonight against Aegon’s words, that proves you are more than capable than watching over our son. I’ve never doubted you from the day I told you I was with child. From that day forth your only focus has been providing for and protecting your family. You’re an honorable man, Aemond. And the most capable father.”

Aemond rises to press your lips together in a quick kiss. When he lays back down he pulls you with him, resting your head on his chest. This way you can hear the hard thump of his heart beating in his chest, a sound so rhythmic and comforting you can’t help but be lulled by sleep.