#harwin strong imagine

[fairysluna]

HERE AGAIN

43. “Go on ride my thigh.” WITH HARWIN

knight in shining armor.

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.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Harwin Strong x Targ!Fem!Reader.

TAGS — fluff (a bit too much, I'm sorryy), smut —thigh riding, nipple play, oral fixation, praise, virgin!reader, dirty talk—, sexual tension, descriptions of nudity, mentions of blood and violence, murder. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — small context: here the dance of the dragons doesn't happen, Rhaenyra never fucked Harwin and the greens and blacks are a lovey dovey family. Long live fanfiction for this. A big, big thank you to @bucknastysbabe for beta reading this!! Ilysm!!🤍

My baby bel, i think i put a bit too much fluff into the mix while writing this, but i hope you like it and enjoy it. Ilyy🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

A thunderous sound woke you up from your peaceful slumber. By looking around in the darkness of your chambers, you could tell something was wrong; a strange atmosphere appeared in the air, something odd that brought an inexplicable chill in your spine. You arose from your bed, walking barefooted towards the nearest window and peeking outside - the cold wind that entered the room sent shivers through your body, causing goosebumps to arise across your skin. It had to be the hour of the Wolf, you could barely see a thing.

There was a group of guards marching towards the entrance of the Red Keep; you heard them bellow, but you were not able to make sense of their words. They ran from one side to another, picking up their swords and shields, giving commands to one another. You grew curious to know the reason behind such a fuss and the answer came quicker than you expected. While you were observing a knight standing beside the arsenal and keeping guard on the perimeter, another man silently approached him- wearing all black, camouflaging in the darkness of the night.

A small part of you told you to look away, but you stood there - eyes fixed on the guard. Curiosity killed the cat.

Out of the blue, the black-clad specter reached for the knight, and before you could discern what the man had done to him, you saw red flooding out under the moonlight - staining his prestigious white cloak. You froze in your place as you saw the guard falling to his knees before his entire body reached the dirt on the floor. The air escaped from your lungs as you witnessed such a gruesome scene, feeling your heart beating frantically in reaction.

It only became worse once the unknown man looked up, right at your window. Right at you, steely eyes glinting.

Immediately, you took a few steps back - your hand covering your mouth and muffling a squeal as soon as you realized what had happened. Chills traveled around your body, and before you realized, your cheeks were soaking with tears of horror and fear. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your chest feeling heavy and tight. That man saw you, he would certainly come after you now.

Your feet kept moving, eyes fixed in the window as you walked backwards, as far as possible from that frightening scene. In that moment, you felt your back hit something cold and hard before two strong arms wrapped around your body and squeezed you between them. You yelped, screaming hysterically with the thought that it will be your turn now - squirming desperately as you tried to be freed from the arms of the person who was holding you down.

Then you heard his voice.

“Princess, it's me!” The familiar voice exclaimed, loosening the grip around your body and allowing you to turn around to see him. He removed his helmet, throwing it onto the floor. “It's me, my sweet princess,” he repeated, this time more calm and with a soothing tone in his timbre. He placed his big, calloused hand on your cheek.

The relief washed over you as you saw your beautiful knight in shining armor standing before you, tense shoulders instantly relaxing as you locked your lilac eyes with his deep brown ones. His gaze was soft, but it still showed signs of his preoccupation for you. His thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face. You leaned towards his touch and he sighed.

“You're safe with me,” Ser Harwin murmured. “Everything will be okay…” His impressive frame towered over your smaller one; you had to look up at him as your hand wrapped around his wrist.

Harwin was taken aback once he felt your trembling arms wrapping around his armor. You hung from his neck as he picked you up from the floor. One of his hands held your waist, while the other went to your nape - keeping you close to him. The coldness of the metal was pressing against your cheek, and you closed your eyes - silently crying against his shoulder. Your heart fluttered inside your chest once he tightened his grip around your body; you felt safe in his arms.

“Shh… it's fine,” he cooed against your ear. His lips pressed against your head. “No one will hurt you if I'm with you, princess. No one will harm you.”

“What happened? What's going on?” you asked between sobs.

“Some miscreants managed to go through the gates, they're now being secured in the black cells. They’re trying to find those who are inside the Keep,” he explained while he slowly put you back on your feet - a soft whine involuntarily left your lips once you stopped feeling his warmth. “I've come as soon as I heard.”

“Is my family safe? My mother, my siblings? Rhaenyra and the children?”

“They are all being guarded by members of the king's guard,” Harwin replied.

You nodded before you took a look around his face, as if you were trying to search for some wound - just in case he needed your help. “Are you hurt?” A little smile appeared on his handsome face once he noticed your worry. “Did- did they hurt you?”

“No,” he answered. “And you shall not worry about me, princess…”

You pressed your lips in a thin line before murmuring - a bit embarrassed, “you know I'll always worry about you.”

Harwin paused to take a look at you; his heart beating fast with the mere sight of you, feeling like a green boy whenever you were around, staring up at him with those pretty, sparkling eyes of yours. So beautiful, so precious. It was no secret between you two that your feelings had flourished like roses in Spring. Yet, even when the deep affections were obviously mutual, both of you were scared to act on it. It was forbidden, and - somehow - that made it even more tempting for both. How scandalous, King Viserys daughter has the Hand’s son as a paramour.

“Mayhaps your royal highness should go back to sleep,” Harwin suggested. “On the morrow all this would be just a faint memory.”

“I don't think I will be able to do it,” you told him, taking a step back and wiping your tears away. “I lost all my sleep with what I've just seen…it was awful, terrible…”

Harwin approached you again as he noticed your despair - your voice breaking in the middle of your words and your eyes glistening once again by a layer of new tears. He cupped your face, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks.

“It's okay, my sweet angel,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours - you closed your eyes. His closeness made your heart beat faster, and the syrupy way the name that came out of his plump lips almost caused you to sigh. “Come here, let's sit down for a second, alright?” Harwin motioned.

Obediently, you grabbed his hand as he guided you through your room, finding a comfortable spot in the large settee right in the middle of your chambers. Once Harwin turned around, he finally noticed what you were wearing; a thin see through nightgown. His eyebrows twitched and mouth went dry. He knew that the right thing was to look away, give the privacy you needed - yet he couldn't manage to take his eyes off of you, his lovely princess. He followed a path from your face, going downwards towards your neck and collarbones - he even imagined how they would look with small marks from his lips printed on them. He continued shamelessly eyeing you, finding your breasts; he felt his throat getting dry once he noticed your pebbled nipples peeking through the white fabric of your nightgown. His mouth watered, resisting the urge to think how they would feel against his tongue. Unexpectedly, he felt his pants getting tighter.

That's when he knew that enough was enough. You were a princess; his princess. You deserve the utmost respect. He couldn't allow himself to think of you in that way, especially on a night like this one.

Harwin cleared his throat, sitting down on the couch and tapping the empty spot by his side - once again, you obeyed. Your body curled by his side, clinging into his armor, laying your head on his chest as his arm went around your shoulder to keep you close. You squirmed a bit, trying to make sense of the feeling between your legs - the one that grew more intense once you noticed the desire on his eyes.

“Close your eyes, try to rest. I'll be here when you wake up,” he promised.

You nodded, making yourself comfortable and doing what he told you to do - and you really tried, yet it seemed impossible for you to take that horrid image off your mind. Your whole body would tremble with the thought of being murdered in the same way. Each time you would close your eyes, that was all you could see. It was torturous, a bone chilling fear that didn't let you rest.

That scarlet blood seeping down white cloth played over and over again in your racing mind.

Before you noticed, you were sobbing again. Harwin, chivalrous as always, grabbed your quivering body and placed you on his lap, rocking your body from side to side as a desperate attempt to try and calm you down. It wounded him to see you like this, so scared and defenseless - he even wondered what he could do to make your anguish go away.

“He saw me… he'll come and try to- to kill me!” you whined - your lower lip shaking uncontrollably. “I cannot- I cannot stop thinking about it all.”

Growing up as a princess left you inside a bubble. Behind the thick walls of the castle you never had to watch or see something as such - the evilness of people. Harwin has always told you that you had a pure heart and soul, always oblivious to the wrongdoings of the people. You never knew how cruel people truly were, and now that you saw it you couldn't stop thinking about it.

“Nothing will happen to you, not if I'm here,” Harwin softly whispered. “I will always protect you, my precious angel.”

But then he thought of his words again; he might protect you from the enemies, from the dangers of the world, but how was he supposed to protect you from the torment that was caused by your own mind? How could he possibly make you forget about it?

He knew the answer, but he knew it was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Come here.” Harwin invited you to sit on his lap. In any other occasion you would doubt a bit before assenting to do it, but in that moment all you wanted was to feel safe, to feel him against you as he got rid of all your fears with his mere presence - you couldn't resist.

His hands grabbed your hips as he lifted you up and motioned you until you were sitting on top of him - your arms around his broad body as you laid on his shoulder. His hands went to your head, his fingertips softly caressing your scalp while he soothed you again.

For him, it was quite hard to ignore the fact that the only thing in the middle of your nudity was a thin piece of fabric that did nothing to hide your body. He could see it, but you could feel it. At first you just sighed - the coldness of the metal covering his thigh would touch the heat between your legs, which was growing more intense with every passing second. You shivered, holding back a gasp when you accidentally moved your hips.

Out of the sudden, a thunderous sound similar to the one that woke you up was heard again. Your body jumped due to the shock, and your eyes widened with terror.

“Harwin…” you mumbled his name, almost as if you were begging him to make it stop, even when you knew he couldn't do anything more than stay by your side.

“Look at me, Princess,” he replied, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his big hands went to your hips. You felt how he started to pull your nightgown upwards - he had given up his hesitation to do this, defiling the pure little angel. How your doe-eyes and small body contrasted against his large frame, Strong was ensnared. The knight no longer fought against the carnal urges. He needed to take your mind elsewhere, and this was the only way he could think of. You tried to look down as he kept pulling the only layer of clothes that would cover your body - the only thing that separated your warmth from the coldness of the metal on his thigh, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “Don't look away from me, angel…”

You obeyed, slightly parting your lips as the fabric brushed against your flesh, and once your cunt was laying naked on top of his leg, you felt a shiver running down your spine. Harwin’s honeyed gaze did not tear from your face at any moment, reluctant to see your most vulnerable places. He felt unworthy of it. He wasn't going to see you, he wasn't going to touch your vulnerable petals - he was just going to let you use him as you please.

“Ser Harwin…” you repeated his name in a gasp as his hands moved your hips on top of him. Gentle movements at first, just to see how you would react; that's when you moaned, feeling metal rubbing directly against your clit. It felt odd, but extremely good.

“Don't stress your mind any further,” he whispered, almost feeling breathless. “Forget about everything, just focus on what you feel…”

With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on his shoulder in order to find some stability when he slightly quickened the pace. The whimper that left your lips would be carved in Harwin’s mind forever, haunting his nights and increasing his need for you. You were there, in front of him looking so angelic, yet so sinful - he was tightening his grip on your hips, digging his fingertips on your flesh as a desperate attempt to hold back; the urge to rip that nightgown was almost unbearable. He needed to touch you, even when it was awfully wrong to do so.

One of his hands left your hip, moving upwards until it cupped your face. Your cheeks were burning beneath his touch, too flustered and shy to hold his haze for too long. You weren't stupid, you knew what was going on and you knew what it meant, yet it was hard for you to care when it felt this good.

Involuntarily, you started to move your hips on your own, growing needy and aching to feel more of him. You longed for his hands on your skin, touching every inch of you until his scent was spread all over your body - yet, he denied you of that, too scared of not being able to stop if he got to fondle your curves.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice so deep and husky, almost making you purr like a kitten between his arms.

“S’good…” you whined in response, mouth agape and letting gasps fall from your lips.

Harwin shifted his position, trying to find some comfortable posture that would make him forget about the ache inside his breeches. He laid back on the settee, spreading his legs and letting you place your hands on his chest. You soon started to move your hips again, moaning his name.

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, now getting a full view of your body. “Go on, ride my thigh…” Those words slipped his lips before he was able to stop them. He felt ashamed, but you loved to hear them, driving your pace harder in reaction.

Your eyes opened and you found Harwin looking up at you as you used him for your own pleasure. He sat there, your weeping cunt coating his armor with your slick as you rubbed yourself on him; you quickly noticed how hard it was for him not to look down - not to look at the sinful view of your swollen bud brushing against him. Instead, his eyes remained on your face, lost in your glossy eyes and swollen lips. He was bewitched with the way your face would express the pleasure you were feeling; Blessed may be the gods for giving him the opportunity to see you like that.

His thumb moved closer to your lips, and you were quick to trap it inside your mouth, sucking and nibbling at it while your movements became more intense. Harwin couldn't resist, and he moaned once he felt your tongue swirling around his digit, imagining how that very same tongue would feel on his cock.

“This feels better than your pillow, doesn't it?” He suddenly groaned. On any other occasion, he would be too ashamed to mention that - the fact that he has heard you pleasuring yourself, yet he couldn't help it… the words slipped out of his mouth before he was able to hold them back. “Do you think of me when you do it?” He asked, almost begging to admit it, longing to hear you say it.

Though you were in no position to speak - too overwhelmed already, you manage to mumble a positive answer, humming as you nodded. A little smirk appeared on the knight's face, making him look even more charming than he already was. You felt your body melt in his arms.

With the motion of your body becoming more intense - faster, your nightgown slowly started to fall down your body, exposing your pebbled nipples to the hungry haze of the man beneath you. The struggle inside his mind was killing him, he wasn't supposed to touch you yet his body craved for it. His mouth watered at the sight while you kept moaning around his finger.

“Touch yourself for me, my angel,” he murmured, as if that would cease his cravings.

He removed his hand from your face, grabbing your wrist and relocating it to your breasts. You moaned at your own touch as you pulled your nipples and played with your own flesh. You leaned forward then, pressing your forehead against his, open-mouthed as you gasped when he grabbed your hips to control your movements once again. Harwin closed his eyes, groaning when you whined and mewled.

You sounded so beautiful.

“Come on, my princess,” he breathlessly said. His lips were merely a few inches away from yours. He fought the urge to devour your swollen lips. “Fucking hell… my angel, keep rubbing your sweet pussy against me. It feels so good, doesn't it? Bet you can’t think of anything else…”

“Harwin, I- I feel…”

“Sh… just let go. Fuck yourself on me, use me as you please. Let me help you empty that pretty head of yours.”

Harwin gave one last look at your trembling body before he started to bounce his leg, thick thigh adding more stimulation that almost made you scream. It was too much - the possessive grip around your hips was making it hard for you to think about anything else. You fantasized about him, about his hands, about his mouth… you longed for his touch, to feel huge calloused hands on your silken skin. You wondered how it would feel to have him inside of you, to let him defile your body. You wanted it so bad.

The thoughts soon started to push you over the edge. The metal covering Harwin’s thigh was soaked with your slick, it was slippery enough to fasten your movements until you couldn't hold it any longer. Your body weight fell forward, your hips twitching as your release oozed out of your weeping cunt, his name falling from your lips like a chant - as a way to thank him. Harwin felt his cock aching underneath his trousers, painfully hard, too damn close to coming undone.

“So good, my beautiful princess…” he whispered as he caressed your hair. His touch burning against now sensitive skin. “Bet you're not thinking about that bad man anymore, are you?”

You could only whine in response. Tired, overstimulated, and sleepy.

“Let's get you to bed now, shall we?”

Harwin grabbed your waist, lifting you up effortlessly as you leaned on his shoulders. Ever the gentleman, he fixed your gown and covered your nudity as he took you to the bed. He placed you delicately over the soft mattress and you hummed when he wrapped your trembling body on the silk sheets.

He leaned back then, but you grabbed his hand before he could go further away. “Please, don't,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Stay with me… Lay here.”

“My princess-”

“Please.”

And he couldn't say no.

You heard how he started to get rid of his armor, slowly detaching the pieces of metal from his body until there were just thin layers of clothes covering his body. He cautiously laid behind you - not wanting you to feel the hardness under his trousers, yet you grabbed his hand and forced him to wrap his limbs around your body, feeling the need to have him as close as possible.

Silence fell on the room, just hearing his calm breathing as he closed his eyes and smelled the sweet perfume lingering in your hair. But then, you spoke again.

“Ser Harwin?” you uttered his name so delicately it almost felt like a caress.

“Yes?”

There was a small pause, a moment of doubt. You continued regardless.

“I… I think I might be in love with you.”

Harwin's heart skipped a beat on his chest, and a smile appeared on his face. He felt a joy that he had never felt before.

“Princess?” Now it was him calling your name.

“Yes, sir?”

“I am in love with you.”

TAGS — @islandfantasydream

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[axelsagewrites]

Hello, dear reader. I'd like to make a wish for Rhaenyra's little sister, maybe a year or two. And she never liked Alicent, who after marrying the king tries (along with Otto) to demote her to bastard status (but Viserys loves his little girl too much to do this to her). Of course, things get even worse when Rhaenyra's sister gets engaged to Harwin...

Thank you for your attention, I like your stories 🫶🏻. Another thing, can I stop by more often? I wish I had more of my ideas adorned with your writing

Harwin Strong*Suitable Match

Pairing: Harwin x f!reader

Word count: 1320

Warnings: Step parent hating step child, secret relationship, kind of implied smut

a/n: ahh thank u sm for being so sweet and ofc request as much or talk however much u want. sorry i didnt reply sooner i just didnt want to lose the request x

Masterlist Here

A life of a princess was something to envy. Well so many had claimed however after the death of your mother life felt like an ever falling spiral. Your sister began to grow closer to Alicent after the death and while you were happy for her to have a friend Alicent had always been unkind to you.

It had started small with her asking Rhaenyra not to let you join in their games to her unpicking your needle work whenever you would wander off to stretch your legs. Soon you gave up on even trying to be nice to her. anytime she was invited to dinner was met with loud sighs from you.

“Why does she hate me?” you pouted one night as Rhaenyra upbraided your hair.

Your sister rolled her eyes as she began to brush your hair out, “She doesn’t hate you. she’s just not used to a little sister,”

“She’s mean,”

“Cmon she isn’t that bad?”

-

You didn’t want to say I told you so when Alicent was betrothed to your father but the look on your face said it for you. at least Rhaenyra was able to marry and move away. you were instead stuck living at court with your evil stepmother and her spawn. Well, the children were kind to you, but Alicent constantly used them to get under your skin.

She’d send toddler Aegon running over with pretend crown shouting that he was going to be king. Or she would have a 2-year-old Aemond claim he was your husband. She tried to make Helena spill wine on your dress one time, but the poor girl burst into tears and confessed to you instantly.

Instead Alicent settled on insisting that your chambers were given to Aegon. Something you managed to convince your father against from at first but soon you were moved to a wing of the castle usually just for guests. You would’ve complained about longer if you hadn’t realised your new chambers window overlooked the kings guard training ground.

From your window you’d pretend to be doing needle work while secretly watching break bones fling any man that challenged him like a rag doll. Eventually Harwin caught onto your staring and would send his own glimpses up between sparring. It was also handy that your chamber was only a short walk from the guards’ sleeping quarters and Harwin soon became a frequent private guest of yours.

-

“Ser Barros is coming to court next week,” your father told you over a family dinner, “and I heard his son is looking for a wife,” he said, shooting you a hopeful glance.

“I heard he’s a fine man father,” you said kindly knowing full well it didn’t matter. Somehow every match they tried to make for you was sabotaged. The tall dark Baratheon boy was ever so keen for weeks for your hand then one day disappeared like a ghost. The gorgeous Lannister man that would bring you fine jewels suddenly decided a dornish match was of more importance. Even the Tarly boy you had courted had inexplicitly decided to join the nights watch. Every time Alicent wore the same twisted smile.

The only ones she didn’t send running were the incredibly old and decrepit looking men from minor houses, but it wasn’t hard to convince your father they weren’t suitable matches. “Perhaps we should set up a luncheon to great the boy,” Alicent suggested making your father smile widely. She really had twisted him around her finger.

-

“I wish I could stay here all day,” you pouted as you lay your head on Harwin’s bare chest.

His chuckle vibrated through you as his arm wrapped tight around your waist, “Me too princess but I have my duties and you have yours,”

“I thought your duty was to serve me,” you sighed dramatically, pretending to try get away.

Harwin laughed, his arms moving to cage you against the bed as he moved to lay over you, “I think I serve you just fine princess,” he said, his lips moving to kiss along your jaw.

“Oh yeah?” you asked and Harwin hummed in response as his kisses grew lower.

-

As expected Borros’s son went running after only a week and now you were in another awkward family dinner however unluckily for you the children all had the cold so now you were sat in stoney silence with just your father and Alicent. “You should really think about your future dear,” she said with a fake sweet smile, “We worry for you,”

Instead of replying you grabbed your wine, drinking a hefty sip of it. Viserys sighed, “Alicent is right dear. You must marry. At this point we’re going to have to start considering marrying you to a tree!” he said, flinging himself back in his chair. “Honestly what even happened between you and the boy?”

-

The days that followed were awkward to say the least. Alicent walked around smug as all hell and your father continued to sulk. You decided enough was enough and when Alicent went out to the sept you decided to track your father down. Unsurprisingly you found him staring over a model of the city.

“Father?” you greeted, walking closer to the tired looking man, “May we talk?”

“Of course, sweet child,” he said, nodding for you to sit beside him before sighing, “You know I worry for you?”

“I do father, and I do appreciate it,” you lied but did your best to look sympathetic to your clueless father, “but I was thinking. Well. I found another match you see father,” you spoke, and his head perked up as he waited for you to finally spit it out, “He’s sweet and kind and his family is well respected. You even like his father, and I was just thinking- “

“Out with-it child,”

You took a breath before finally asking, “Have you considered Harwin Strong yet father?” Viserys sighed, his eyes turning away but you continued, “Think about it! I’d be able to be at court and help Helena with her studies. Plus, you have four more children so four more matches. You already have the Velaryon which secures the crownlands. Harwin and I would secure the Riverlands. Then after you betrothed Helena, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron you will have six of the seven kingdoms on your side. Your reach will go far especially if our children do the same,”

“You want to dilute the blood of old Valyria?” he asked, sounding exhausted as he spoke.

“No father, only strengthen it,” you said, moving to hold his hand, “Besides there is no other Targaryen or Velaryon to wed unless uncle daemon is brought back from exile- “you said but your father raised his hand to hush you.

He paused for a moment before nodding, “I will think about it. but for now, leave me. I have a lot to consider,”

“Thank you, father,”

-

Apparently Alicent must have missed this chamber meeting because somehow the news came back finally in your favour. Harwin would be your husband. You were so happy when your father told you that you instantly hugged him before rushing to find Harwin however that night at dinner Alicent shot you many dirty looks.

Finally, you had undermined her. you’d won. Well, that’s how it felt at first, but her glares began to sink into your skin till it itched. As the dinner ended, she tapped her cup with her fork, “A toast to my dear sweet daughter,” she smiled at you making your father beam, “May she have a marriage like ours,” she said, holding his hand tightly but you felt your stomach flutter.

“Here, here,” your father said, standing to kiss your cheek.

Alicent did the same, her arms twisting round your back into a bony hug, “Do not forget yourself darling,” she whispered sweetly in your ear, “You don’t win that easily,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

[criminalamnesia]

Pretty like the sun

warnings: reader described as having long, silver hair; no use of y/n; female!reader; Targaryen!reader; sneaking around with harwin; little sliver of angst but that’s it; fluff; not proofread sorry

summary: you spend a morning with harwin.

author’s note: I miss harwin strong. that is all.

The soft, early morning light poked through the thin fabric covering your window. You stirred in bed, eyes scrunching tighter together as you attempted to will yourself back asleep.

“Good morning,” Harwin’s chest rumbled with the sound of his voice. He was almost whispering, as if afraid to spook you. One of his hands trailed up your back, his fingers ghosting over your bare skin.

“Mhm,” you grumbled, refusing to open your eyes. You snuggled closer to his side, your head laid right over his heart. The reassuring rhythm of its beat brought a small smile to your lips.

“What time is it?” You asked after a moment of comfortable silence, your eyes still closed. You could feel the heat of the sun now, its rays more intense as it rose in the sky.

“Almost time for me to go,” he replied. The hand trailing up your spine moved to rest in your hair, his fingers lightly scratching at your scalp. His free hand moved over your body, looping around you and pulling you impossibly closer.

It was always like this in the mornings you spent together. Hushed words and warm touches. The two of you tangled together, holding each other as close as possible. This time was sacred to the both of you. It was stolen from the rest of the Keep, something just for the two of you to share, damning the rest of them.

“Do you have to?” You asked, but you already knew the answer as you finally opened your eyes. You tilted your head back to look up at your lover. His eyes met yours, and he gave a small smile as he nodded.

“You know I do, Princess. I cannot be caught in here, your father would have my head.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to plant a kiss to his sternum. He hummed in contentment.

“You underestimate my power in this keep, Ser. At most, my father would have your finger. Maybe a hand, if it were a bad day for the King,” you grinned as you teased him, meeting his gaze once more.

It was Harwin’s turn to roll his eyes now. His fingers dug deeper into your scalp, massaging the skin there. You groaned and swatted his hand away, knowing his actions would put you back to sleep.

As much as you wanted to succumb to the welcoming embrace of slumber once more, you knew you’d regret it. Harwin wouldn’t want to wake you, and so he’d slip from the room quietly, depriving you of the chance to wish his farewell. You despised it when he did that– and he knew as much, yet he still tried.

He told you once that he hated seeing the look in your eyes as he left, and that’s why he tried to lull you back to sleep. He didn’t want to watch the sadness and anger seep into your expression as it did every time he snuck away.

It wasn’t sadness and anger aimed towards him, of course. It was at this whole situation– the fact that you two had to hide your affections. The King had made it quite clear you were to remain untouched and unmarried until your sister, Rhaenyra, found a match.

You disobeyed his wishes, but what the King didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him– at least that’s what you believed.

“Where do they have you stationed today?” You questioned the man below you as you turned your gaze to the villainous window that disturbed the peace the night gave both of you. “Guarding ‘Nyra again?”

“Guarding you, actually,” he said, and you sighed.

Having your lover guard you was a double-edged sword. You were with him all day, but you were not allowed to truly be with him. It was almost torture, how the man you loved was right beside you and you couldn’t touch him. You couldn’t even speak to him the way you wanted. You had to remain proper, as did he, and you had to keep up this carefully constructed facade of a princess and her loyal guard.

“You do not wish to be accompanied by me today?” He asked, and you finally pushed yourself up, your hand resting on his chest to support yourself.

The arm he had looped around you fell, his grip now at your waist. His thumb caressed the skin there as he watched your face with concern. His other hand remained in your hair, moving to brush strands of silver from your eyes.

“You know that is not the issue,” you told him.

“Sometimes it is the issue. Remember just a fortnight ago, when you asked for another guard just because I slipped out the night before?”

“You did not tell me you had to go,” you said as you shuffled over to the other side of the bed. His hands retracted from your body to let you move.

“I was not aware I needed to ask your permission to get a glass of water,” he retorted, and you scoffed.

“The last time you snuck out during the night, it was because you were sent to guard my sister for her two week journey to see whoever that lord was. Lannister? Baratheon? I do not recall— but it does not matter. You did not tell me you were leaving!”

“Love–” he began, but you spoke again.

“No, I know, Harwin. You did not know either. I am not trying to fight,” you reached a hand towards him, which he clasped in one of his own. His fingers intertwined with yours, and you smiled.

“I just worry for you. I fear one day you will slip out before I can say goodbye, and I will never see you again.”

Harwin frowned, his eyes trained on you as he gave your hand a small squeeze. You inhaled deeply. “I do not want to keep sneaking around,” you admitted.

“Nor do I, but–” he began.

“But we must,” you finished his sentence with a sigh. “Just until my sister finally meets her match. Which will probably be after we are all dead.”

Harwin laughed and used his grip on your hand to pull you back into him. You gave a sound of surprise as you fell onto his chest, both his hands snaking around your body to keep you glued to him.

“The Princess will wed soon, my love. Your father will make sure of it. And if not, then I am sure you will make sure of it. Gods help Rhaenyra if it gets to that point. You are quite scary when you are angry.”

“As scary as Daemon?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised as you glanced up at Harwin. A teasing grin painted your lips.

“Oh, much scarier. The Rogue Prince wishes he was as terrifying as you.”

“Careful, Ser,” you giggled. “My uncle would feed you to Caraxes for such an insult.”

“It would be an honorable death, dying to defend my Princess.”

You shuffled upwards so that your face was right above his. Your hair fell around the both of you, creating another barrier the sun streaming through the window fought to break through.

“You are insufferable,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“Am I?” He asked with a grin.

“Mhm,” you hummed in answer before lowering your lips to his.

The kiss lasted a few wonderful, peaceful seconds before a sobering knock sounded at the door.

“Princess!” Your lady-in-waiting called from behind the door, her knock becoming louder as she tried to rouse you. Unbeknownst to her, you were very awake at the moment.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your lover who was very much naked, very much still in your bed, and very much late to his post.

“Princess, are you awake? Are you in there? I don’t see Ser Harwin out here. Are you alright?” You could hear panic begin to sneak into the woman’s tone. You knew how it looked to her– a locked door, no guard, and a silent princess? She probably thought you were dead.

You pulled yourself from Harwin’s embrace once more and hurried out of bed, reaching for the night clothes you had discarded the night before. Harwin followed suit in rushing from bed. He began grabbing at clothes and armor, trying to be silent but quick as he redressed.

“I’m awake!” You shouted to your lady-in-waiting as you ran a hand through your hair. You turned to watch as Harwin gave up on buttoning his shirt and began gathering his armor in his hands.

“You have got to go!” You whisper-shouted at him.

“I am trying! This damn armor–” he groaned as he nearly dropped his metal chest plate. You cringed as you watched his barely catch it, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. That sound would’ve had your lady busting down your door in an instant.

“Princess, are you alright in there?” You heard your lady ask as the door knob jiggled.

“Quite!” You yelled back, your pitch rising in panic. You rushed to Harwin’s side and began snatching up the remaining pieces of his armor. You ushered him to the secret passage in your room, prying open the door and all but pushing him inside. “Just looking for something!”

You pushed the armor in your hands into Harwin’s, who was looking at you with a wide grin.

“What?” You asked incredulously, curious as to how he could be smiling at being nearly caught.

“Looking a little disheveled, Princess.”

“Gods, go!” You scolded him with no real bite to your words. You shoved at his broad shoulders, careful not to disturb the mountain of metal in his arms.

He gave a quiet laugh as he swiftly ducked down to kiss your forehead. “See you soon, Princess.”

With that, he disappeared down the dark passageway and you all but slammed the door closed. You quickly concealed it once more before smoothing down your nightdress, taking a deep breath, and opening the door for your lady-in-waiting.

“Gods, I thought you were being killed!” She cried, her voice shrill as she surged into the room.

You gave a breathless laugh as you shut the door behind her, noticing a forgotten trinket of Harwin’s laying on the stone floor. You swiftly kicked it under your wardrobe before your lady turned to face you.

“Where was Ser Harwin? He was not by your door,” she questioned as she began to assess your appearance.

“Oh, I sent him to fetch me a glass of water well before you arrived. He never returned. I suppose he was roped into something more important.”

“Hm,” your lady hummed, unconvinced, but she didn’t press the topic further.

The two of you fell into comfortable silence as you went through your routine of dressing.

Finally, as your lady finished clasping a ruby necklace around your neck, she cleared her throat to speak.

“Did he at least take all his armor with him this time?”

Your cheeks turned a deep red, and your lady laughed.

[50shadesofrossi]

Ruining You

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You’re Viserys’ eldest daughter, the blood of the dragon running thick. You have a temper, and it seems Harwin is the only one brave enough to tame it despite your mutual loathing

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, swearing and depictions of violence

A/N: Holy shit. This was originally 13k words but in the last thousand the plot went a bit haywire and the writing was bleh so I deleted that and just fixed a few things to make it where it is now. I sincerely apologise if this isn’t what you thought when I originally posted the idea, it did kind of run away on me but at the same time, I lowkey love it. Enjoy, this 12k fic :)

Rage boils deep within your veins, the bubbles extremely close to spilling over. Your father always said you and your sister Rhaenyra share the blood of the dragon, especially the hot temperament, though he underestimated just how ferocious you can get, even as a child. 

You feel every emotion with such a raw intensity that sometimes you don't know what to do, or how to deal with it and it explodes, consuming you whole and turning you into someone entirely different. Your alter ego, as your uncle Daemon calls it. 

Much like now, wildfire blazing within your eyes, steam simmering out of your ears and blood spilling into your mouth from grinding your teeth so hard. It takes every ounce of strength to not erupt, destroy anything in your path and embarrass your father further. 

"Are you even listening to me?!" Viserys yells from the throne, his voice echoing down the great hall for all to hear. 

No, you're not listening to him, too busy trying to direct your anger elsewhere, direct it at someone else. Pain flares up your arms, wrapping around like a snake as your nails dig into your palms. 

Viserys calls your name and almost stumbles back in response to your attention flickering up to him. "Is that all, your grace?" You grit. 

The small group of occupants cease breathing. Viserys sighs exasperatedly, gesturing for your dismissal. Without hesitation you spin on your heel, marching your way out of the hall and toward the fastest exit out of the Keep, away from prying eyes. 

Servants, lords and ladies all evacuate the premises, steering clear of your path of destruction as you make your way toward the back of the gardens, your secret area you call it. Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heeled boots clipping the ground. 

You barely make it in time, rounding the large tree and searching for your hidden blade. The steel glints under the sunlight, ringing as it slashes through the air and makes contact with the already-exposed bark. Bits fly everywhere with each swing, your bottled-up rage slowly leaking out. 

You don't hear the person approach, nor do you feel the eyes watching you intently, silent and observing. To say the knight is used to your outbursts is an understatement. You never fail to remind him of who you're descendant from, the unyielding anger and raw emotions of a Targaryen. 

A dragon. 

"Fuck!" You scream angrily, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and your knees buckling. You hit the earth harshly, staining your dress, not that you care at this moment. 

The sword falls from your grip, landing amongst the dirt. 

"I half expected you to climb atop your dragon and burn King's Landing to the ground," the knight muses from behind you, making himself known and slowly approaching you like a rabid animal. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing him away and hoping to awaken from this horrible nightmare. You hear the debris snap under his weight with each step closer, reigniting your hatred. 

With precision, despite the dress, you come to your feet and whirl around, your hand having grasped your blade in the process. "And you best believe I'd burn you first, you fucking snitch." You seethe, pointing the end toward him. 

"Princess-" he starts, daring to place his foot down and inch himself closer. 

"Unless you want to be choking on your blood Ser Harwin," you address him. "I'd stand down and leave me be." 

Harwin swallows thickly, an inkling of fear rolling down his spine. "It wasn't me," he starts off carefully, deciding to keep his distance. "I never told anyone, certainly not your father or mine. But to be truthful, I'm glad someone else did." 

"Liar," you approach him with purpose, resting the point of the blade on his knitted tunic. "You have the most to gain by staying on his good side, being rewarded with his favour; Commander of the Gold Cloaks." He holds your eye, his fingers twitching. "My uncle is bound to screw up eventually and when that happens, you'll slide right into his position. All you heirs are the same." 

"Princess," he tries again. 

"Breakbones." 

His jaw flexes. You've struck a nerve, a nerve you love to hit. "Don't," he warns. 

"Go guard your honourable princess, and leave me alone. I'm in no tolerable mood." You indicate your younger sister, Rhaenyra. 

Harwin breathes steadily through his nose, ignoring the fact that you're trying to get under his skin, to piss him off like you are. It's almost routine by now, especially when you're this riled up. 

"And so you plan to torture the tree? With that flimsy sword, which by the way, will shatter the moment it meets real steel." 

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling harshly. Harwin makes a split-second decision, one that he's sure will land him as food for your dragon. He knocks your sword away, the unexpected force causing you to stumble back and blink up at him. 

"Never take your eyes off your opponent." 

Confusion begins to overlap your previous state, your fingers twisting for a better grip on the handle of your sword that now is by your side. "What are you-" 

"Who taught you to wield a sword?" You don't answer. Harwin speaks your name, a different kind of fire burning within you. "Who taught you?" He presses, his tone firm, as though he talks to a child. 

"Ser Criston Cole." 

"Ser Criston Cole," he drawls, almost in disbelief. "Of fucking course." He mumbles to himself. His own kind of anger sparks, his skin crawling at the thought of the two of you alone. "And let me guess, you begged and pleaded with him to teach you how to defend yourself because you know that going outside the Red Keep is a stupid fucking idea." 

He should slap himself for speaking so indirectly, informally to you, his princess. Yet, he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. 

During your nights, you spend them down in Flea Bottom, or anywhere that's not the Red Keep, spreading your wings and soaring. You hate being holed up, being monitored and being expected to carry out duties you never asked for, never wanted. Even as a child, you wished you of been born to a low-born family, even a lady and lord would be better than King Viserys' firstborn. 

When your mother and brother passed, Viserys was prepared to bake you his heir, but you declined. You could think of nothing worse, having seen the stress and duty your father must endure on a day-to-day basis. You know Rhaenyra will be a better Queen. 

Not to mention, you wish to marry for love. As childish and dreamer-like for you to want, you gave up fighting years ago. 

On most of your escapades, Harwin finds you, and ultimately drags you back to the safety of the Keep. He's the only knight that you know of, that's caught you, leading you to believe he is responsible for reporting it to your father. Hence why you were abruptly dragged from your chambers this morning. 

"And you think you can do better? Ser Criston at least understands that I'll do as I please, not try and reprimand me at every given chance." You lower your voice. "And watch yourself, Ser Harwin, I'm still your princess, no matter how much you hate it." 

Regret flashes in his eyes before it's gone. "Then let's see what you've learnt." 

Harwin draws his sword, knowing damn well he could be executed for doing so. But at this moment, you're both too wound up to differentiate between what's right and wrong. A habit, of the both of you. 

You flinch at the large sword, deep down knowing Harwin would never jeopardise you, never put you in harm's way or risk hurting you. You lift your chin, swallowing the lump in your throat and raising your sword. 

He watches in amusement, allowing you a heartbeat before he attacks, bringing his sword down. You block with ease, unprepared for how light it is. He's pulling all his strength back. You push the sword away, moving around and keeping your footwork light, smirking. 

"Is something funny?" Harwin raises an unimpressed brow, his eyes never leaving you. 

You bite back a smile at his clear agitation. "No." 

He grunts, striking again. Your reflexes move before you think, blocking and attempting to counterattack yourself, refusing to show your frustration. He's still clearly overpowering you and much more experienced. 

You silently pray for those that meet the end of Harwin's fury. 

"Tell me, Princess" he starts, a loud ringing vibrating into the area as your swords clash. "Has Ser Criston taught you hand-to-hand combat, or how to escape someone's grip?" 

The question takes you off guard, your head tilting as you try to remember. Harwin uses the moment to smack your sword out of your hand, his own dropping for your safety and his arms wrapping around you. 

You cease breathing, the constricted in your throat and your heart skipping a beat. An arm gently presses against your throat, Harwin having put you in a controlled headlock, your back flush with his front. 

Your lips part, your fingers instinctively digging into his arm. Heat crawls up your neck, blood pounding in your ear. You know this is a training exercise, but you can't help in feeling so safe in his arms. Your muscles automatically relax, your adrenaline calms and your breath slowly comes back to you with each second. 

You should hate the situation you're in. Granted, if it was any other person you'd be kicking up a shit storm and preparing to have them fed to your dragon but it's not just anyone. It's Harwin, and that makes you hate him more. 

Hate him for having this effect on you, for consuming your thoughts and imprinting himself amongst your dreams. Though you know he's not to blame, it's yourself. 

For falling so profoundly, and irrevocably in love with him. 

"No doubt, you could handle yourself in an armed fight but what if they get the upper hand, like I did just now, and you're left with close combat, or even worse, they grab you like this," Harwin says to you, his voice thickening with an emotion you can't quite place. "How do you get out?" 

You shake with nerves, at the thought of your escape plan. It's stupid, and it might not work and fuck everything up. Though it could work, and once again, fuck it all up. You push the insecurities down, knowing that he's trying to teach you a life lesson, even if you don't want to hear it. 

You twist your head, his grip not being tight in any way, and find his lips with ease, capturing them. Harwin falters, his arms opening and allowing you the opportunity to slip through and distance yourself from him. 

"That's how." You lick your lips, drawing the taste of him into your mouth. 

Harwin studies you with a deep look of something, mixed with unhinged anger and fear. He doesn't say anything, even as he quickly reaches for his sword, sheathing it against his hip and holding your eye for a moment longer. 

"One day," he croaks. "You're going to wake up and find yourself all alone." And with that, he turns his back on you. 

You watch him leave, shakily bringing the pads of your fingers to your lips, brushing them tenderly. You feel humiliated, shameful and disgusted. You also feel lighter, having finally answered your own question; his lips are soft and the taste of his breakfast still lingers. 

"I already am." You whisper to yourself, biting your finger to keep the tears at bay, the anger subsided.

The sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky before you arrive back at your quarters, dismissing your maids in exchange for silence. You sit atop a lounge on the windowsill, breathing the fresher air from the high distance, ignoring the crestfallen ache in your heart. 

You knew something like this would happen, that Harwin would reject you and push you away. It's part of the reason why you hate him because you know you can't have him. Your father would never allow it, as his firstborn. He'd see to it that you marry a beneficial house, to further strengthen your sister's claim to the throne since you turned away from it. 

It doesn't make it any easier, or any less hard. You've spent almost every day in each other's presence, in either passing or company. You've known him since he was a boy. Uncoordinated and lanky, until he grew and filled out into the man he is today. 

"I don't know what you've done, but I'd steer clear from father," Rhaenyra bursts inside, speaking before seeing you. She calls for you when you don't respond, hoping she'll leave. 

She doesn't. 

Rhaenyra perches herself beside you, brushing a strand of your curly hair behind your ear. "What's happened?" 

"Ser Harwin told father of my nightly adventures." 

Rhaenyra frowns, gazing out the window. "It wasn't him, it was Ser Criston," you gape at her, shifting to lean your back against the wall, mirroring your sister. "He said as much when Ser Harwin confronted him about teaching you how to wield a sword, and the two go into it." 

"Shit," you murmur, leaning your head back. 

"I assume he came from seeing you, with how riled up he was. Never seen him so angry." 

She looks at you expectantly. "I kissed him." Her eyes widen. "To prove a point! He asked me how I'd escape from a headlock, and I kissed him, to distract him. It worked because he let go of me." 

"Makes sense," Rhaenyra nods, referring to his destructive path. "What was it like?" 

You glance at her, a small smile ghosting your lips. "It was only brief, but they are smooth, the complete opposite of him." 

You both giggle, dismissing the fact that you dishonoured not only yourself but Harwin. For a few minutes, you sit in silence, relishing in the company of your sister. These moments are rare, as of late, with her newfound responsibilities. 

"Are you going to listen to father?" 

You stare at her, the answer shining in your lilac eyes. "What do you think." 

-

Harwin surrounds himself with his fellow gold cloaks, in an attempt to enjoy his night off. They laugh and joke, spilling their alcohol and losing their hands on woman's bodies. 

He finishes his drink rather frustratedly, slamming it on the counter accidentally. He can't get the stupid fucking kiss out of his head, replaying the scene over and over. 

The way your body moulded to his own, your smaller frame engulfed and your erratic heart pounding against his arm. How he divulged himself and allowed his nose to brush your hair, inhaling your scent and losing his control. 

And fuck, when you leant up and kissed him, he couldn't help but respond. His restraint snapped at that moment, and if it weren't for you slipping out and distancing yourself-he doesn't want to imagine what he would have done.

From your first meeting, he knew he'd grow up to love you, your hot-headed temperament and stubborn wilfulness. Before he arrived in Kings Landing, his father had drilled into him how to act, how the royal family would act, yet there you stood, unaware of his presence as you yelled profanities into the sky. Not to mention, when you caught him gawking, asked him, the fuck are you looking at?

Your first words ever spoken to him. 

He sighs dramatically, rubbing his face and deciding to leave, knowing that drinking his problems away won't solve anything. The cool air nips at him through his woollen clothes, his dark cape swaying behind him as he makes his way back to the Keep. 

Approaching the gates, he hears a rustle, pausing to make sure his senses aren't clouded. "Fucking shit," Harwin immediately reaches for his sword, keeping his hand on the hilt whilst cautiously making his way closer to the whispered profanities. 

He watches you, straightening your clothes and checking to make sure the coast is clear before you walk off toward the city. He raises a brow at the choice of clothes; black pants and a shirt, with a jacket that is a size too big and a cloak to hide your white hair. Though nothing can cover the deep lilac of your eyes. 

He makes the hasty decision to follow you, keeping his distance yet being close enough to protect you should anything happen. Harwin smiles to himself, knowing this is the perfect opportunity to teach you a lesson. 

If it's so easy for him to sneak up behind you, imagine someone else, with impure intentions. 

He follows you for some time, a small part of him enjoying the look of awe and joy at the sights. Each night you leave, you try to explore new parts of the city, learning about your folk. Harwin must admit, not many royals would do so, preferring to stick to the comforts of the Keep.

The moon is high in the sky, shining down and revealing clear paths as you steer left and right, nowhere in particular yet taking note of each turn. You may be reckless, but you're not stupid. 

Harwin chooses this moment to make his move, observing the way you slip steadily down the passageway and pause at the sound of water lapping against the walls. He creeps out, covering your mouth and pulling you to him, stepping out of the light and into the darkness. 

You scream against his gloved hand, thrashing wildly and reaching for your concealed knife when, "and just like that princess, I've killed you. Or worse, knocked you out and used you for my pleasantries. How many times must I tell you until you get it through your thick skull that this isn't safe." 

You stop, your heart thundering and your adrenaline pumping. You close your eyes, subconsciously leaning further into Harwin. He hesitantly removes his hand, waiting for the explosion. 

"I could have killed you," you murmur, the weight of the blade heavy in your hand. You were prepared to stab him in the kidney. The thought of harming him destroys you. "I could have killed you, all because of your stupidity!" You whirl around, still touching him. 

"My stupidity?" He repeats. 

"Yes!" You fire, glaring up at him. "All to teach me a lesson, when I'm not stupid! Have you ever thought that maybe I just don't give a fuck? I know it's not safe, why do you think I sneak around and blend in." You pause, avoiding his gaze and staring at the Strong house crest on his chest. "This is the only time I feel normal, where my existence is insignificant." 

"Princess, no one asks to be born into their roles, to be born rich or poor," he starts, remembering all the times you spoke of wishing to be someone other than a princess, other than Viserys' firstborn. "But it's our duty to push through, to become what we're meant to be; Lord of Harrenhal, and Princess, of the seven kingdoms." 

Your emotions are high and twisted, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. "I didn't want to be a Queen, I sure as hell don't want to be a princess. I just want to be someone's wife, someone's mother. Someone's greatest love. Is that so hard?" 

You can't control the words, the heartfelt words that shatter Harwin. Suddenly, he understands you. He knows you. He says your name, softly, bringing his hand to your chin and tilting it up. Forcing you to look at him. 

Harwin wipes at your cheek with his thumb, tenderly caressing the flesh and relishing in the feel of you in his hand. So small and frail. So exposed. He opens his mouth to say more when the sound of metal armour clanging together draws his attention elsewhere. 

"Shit." He curses. 

He has nowhere to move to. The path spans over a hundred metres, with a wall on one side and the water's edge on the other. He couldn't even go to a corner. Solutions run through his mind, the sound of guards nearing causing him to do the first thing that pops up. 

"Sorry, Princess." He mumbles, pushing you against the concrete wall and covering the majority of your body with his, with no space left between you. Your brows furrow in confusion, question flashing in your eyes. 

Harwin does what he's always wanted to do: press his lips to yours. 

You squeak, given no time to prepare, your eyes wide in surprise. Only twelve hours ago, he was looking at you with utter hatred and disgust for you doing the same thing. The blade clatters against the ground.

The gold cloaks walk past without an issue, chuckling at the two of you but paying no mind. Harwin keeps his lips firmly against you, hating having to put you in this situation. 

When they become a dot in the distance, does he pull away, searching your eyes. "You kissed me back," you refer to earlier. That was your first kiss, this you never realised Harwin had responded. Your eyes harden, your lips pursing as you inhale as much air as possible before being your hand up and slapping him. His head snaps to the side at the sheer force, shock yet understandable written on his face. 

He doesn't respond, the words unable to form in his mouth. He swallows thickly, his jaw taut. He deserved that. He dares look at you again, his chest rising rapidly and the air crackling. 

You push off the wall, shaking your head in disbelief and attempting to round him. Your shoulder clashes with his when he turns to grab your upper arm, halting you. You glare up at him, opening your mouth to hurtle harsh words at him. Harwin moves first, pulling you back to him and claiming your lips. 

You're not even given a chance to respond before he pulls back, his face still close and his breath fanning your cheeks. He looks at you with hunger, lust and want. Realisation dawns on you; he's just as conflicted as you are. 

Your heart tugs you forward, your hands gripping his tunic and meeting him halfway. Harwin's hands cup the sides of your head. 

He devours you, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease and his hands sliding to the base of your neck and head, titling you up to give more access. You whimper, grappling with his tunic as if he could suddenly move away from you.

He doesn't, shifting to have your back against the wall again, his apparent hard-on pressing into you. Your lungs ache with release, the lack of oxygen making you lightheaded yet desperate for more. 

Slowly and reluctantly, you part, his forehead resting on yours. Your lips are evidently swollen, the taste of him still lingering as he peppers you softly, not quite wanting to stop. 

"Harwin," you whisper, gliding your hands up to his cheeks, running the pads of your fingers over his beard and around his features. 

"I know." 

He could be executed for this, you could be disowned. But gods, does it feel right. Right to be in his hold, to be desired and kissed. You never want to stop. 

"Fuck I know." He repeats, lower. 

You nuzzle each other, refusing to leave the comfort of one another's warmth and touch, despite that nagging thought tugging in the back of your mind. Harwin murmurs that he needs to return you to the Keep, reluctantly standing straighter and removing himself from you.

You follow him in silence, sticking close and for once, not giving him grief. A step up from your usual nights out. 

You soon arrive, pausing before you part and he enters through the main gates whilst you scamper up your hidden passageway. "I know it wasn't you, who told my father." You start. "It was wrong of me to accuse you, and I hope one day you can forgive my insolence, and accept my apology." 

"Of course, Princess. It is known for spoilt children to lash out when they don't receive what they want," he begins to walk back with a teasing smirk. 

You narrow your eyes, watching him for a heartbeat longer and then turning to disappear yourself. The journey back to your quarters is always short, your footsteps light as you work to not attract attention to yourself. 

Heaving the door open, you stop dead in your tracks at the sight of your father standing in your room. "Father-"

"Where have you been?" He says in a low, deadly voice. 

"Taking a walk," 

"Don't lie to me!" Viserys yells. 

The room falls silent. You stare at one another, refusing to break contact. "What will it take for you to listen to me?" 

You think over your choice of words. Is it wise to mention that you wish to marry for love? That you wish he'd allow for you to leave this godforsaken city and be elsewhere, anywhere. Be with Harwin. 

"I wish-" you choke, refusing to look at him as you lay yourself bare. "I wish to marry of my own free will." 

Silence. More silence, his fury-ignited eyes never leaving you, even as you brave the idea to glance up. "No." 

"What-"

"You refused me in naming you heir, you will not refuse me in arranging a marriage for you. That, I can not accept." You gape at him, horror and sickness twisting deep within you. "Take this as your punishment for disobeying me." 

"You can't do this!" You yell at his retreated figure, anger surfacing and exploding. 

"Yes, I can." Viserys ends the argument, storming out of your quarters and forcibly shutting your door. You release a blood-curdling scream, frustration and betrayal gnawing at you. 

You grab the closest object, a cup, and hurtle it across the room. It clangs every time it meets the ground, the metal ringing dying down when it rolls to a stop. Your chest heaves, your jaw clenching and unclenching as you grasp for some control, to leash your emotions. 

You can't. 

You want to hurt your father, hurt him like he's hurt you. There's only one way you know how, leaving you to quickly exit your room through the hidden passageway, navigating down unfamiliar tunnels. 

When you were younger, you explored them all, yet there is only a small handful you use, mainly for your adventures outside the Keep. 

You basically float over the ground, your steps carefully placed despite your fast pace, eager to arrive at your destination. You reach the door, knocking quickly but firmly, making sure you don't arouse the Hand of the King, or his younger son. 

"Princess?" Harwin questions, glancing beyond you. "Is everything alright?" 

You say nothing, surging forward and claiming his lips. Harwin can only raise his brows in surprise, at both your forwardness and boldness, your hands resting on his chest to walk him backward, closing the door swiftly behind you. 

"What was that for?" He presses, distancing himself from you. He doesn't want to think of the penalty if you were found at this very moment. "Hmm?" 

You nibble your lip, holding his gaze even though you'd rather burn for the next words that come out. "I need you." 

The room falls silent, only the crackle of the fire is enough from keeping it dark and noiseless. Harwin studies you, not quite believing you. "You need me?" He approaches, agonisingly slow. "I find that very interesting, since only an hour or so ago, you were quite content." 

He stands before you, his fingers coming under your chin and leaning your head up. He observes you, enjoying watching you squirm. "The truth, now." He knows you're lying, or at the very least, not entirely honest. 

"I am telling the truth-" Harwin changes his grip, pulling you close to him by your chin. You almost collapse. He murmurs your name, the sound rolling down your back on waves. His eyes glint with a challenge, daring you to protest. Your neck heats up. "I could find little sleep, and my," you stop, wishing for the floor to open and swallow you hole. Harwin raises a brow. 

"My fingers were insufficient."

You don't realise, that the previous fire of wrath has simmered down, laying dormant. A different burn ravages your body. 

A wicked smile pulls at the corner of Harwin's mouth, his demeanour shifting. "Was that so hard?" His voice holding a certain husk, that you've never heard. 

His thumb brushes your smooth skin, braving the course of your lips. You release a small breath you didn't realise you were holding and your mouth parts. Harwin drags your bottom lip down, enjoying your compliance. 

"You need me to soothe that ache, Princess?" He tortures you, his mouth ghosting you yet inching up every time you try to close the gap. 

"Please," you're not sure what you're begging for, the words just tumbling out. You close your eyes in frustration, his breath fanning you. 

He finally relents, coming down on your mouth heavily. You barely have a moment to properly respond, his fingers tightening on your chin and his free hand coming to the base of your neck, keeping you steady as he takes your breath. 

"This is all you needed," he pulls a hairsbreadth away, his nose pressing onto the side of yours. "Someone to dominate you, leave you powerless." He realises, looking over your wanton state. 

Your hands fist his shirt, desperation clear on your face. He smiles softly, abruptly pulling back and creating a well-spaced distance from you. You feel as if a cold bucket of water has been poured over you, watching as he takes a seat by the fire. 

"Go to bed, Princess." 

You gape at him, fury bubbling to the surface. "Harwin," you start, taking a tentative step forward. 

"What you are asking for, is treason. The fucking death penalty." 

You flare up. "So is kissing me! What is going a little further?" 

"We are talking about your virtue." He raises his voice, momentarily forgetting about his whereabouts. Gods above, should someone come knocking. "That would be despicable of me, to take something that belongs to your husband." 

You frown, coming to stand before him, the sudden rush of heat inflicting goosebumps. "It should be mine to give away, not his to take." 

He looks up at you, his curls dishevelled and unruly. He wears a worn shirt, the casual appearance causing your stomach to twist. What you would give, to share days where you are laid bare with each other, to see the other side of Harwin, the improper side of him. 

"I trust you, Harwin," you begin, standing between his legs. "I want it to be you. No one else but you, who sees me, and touches me." You hoist a leg over his lap, moving to straddle his lap, your knees digging into the edge of the cushion. 

Instinctively, Harwin's hands come to your waist, keeping you situated. He battles with his morals, his body and heart reacting completely opposite to his mind. If you were a low-born, he'd have fucked you back in the passageway, without a care of onlookers. 

But your status halts him. 

You say his name again, caressing his jaw, your nails scraping through his beard. He doesn't break contact, his palms wandering along your side, moving with a mind of their own. It's plain to see, how much he wants you, how much you want each other. 

Painstakingly obvious. 

You swallow nervously, inching down to press a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw, allowing time for him to push you off should he really not want to continue. You wouldn't ask that of him. His fingers flex into your flesh, his head angling up slightly. 

A ghost of a smirk plants itself over your lips, a sudden arrogance blooming at his reaction, at his heavier breath intake. You travel to his neck, feeling the urge to nibble lightly, Harwin rolling your hips into him reflexively. 

You gasp into his skin at the sudden pleasure, the seam of your pants pulling tightly over your clit. Harwin groans lowly, both at your mouth finding his sweet spot and your hips rutting into him. A sinister thought crosses his mind. 

Effortlessly he hoists you up, placing you over his thigh. You sit back in confusion, your initial reaction being that he wants to stop, until he speaks. "You say you use your fingers," your slightly wide eyes are enough of a confirmation. "Then use me. Get yourself off using me." 

Your lips part, your eyes searching his. He smiles reassuringly, dragging your hips over his thigh. "Take your pleasure, Princess." 

Your head drops into the crevice of his shoulder, an airy moan escaping you at the new sensation. Naturally, you begin to move on your own, a hand snaking up the other side of his head to thread through his curls, using him as leverage. 

Harwin jolts his leg up, the action bringing a new wave of pleasure through you. You whimper into his shoulder, your mind reminding you how improper this is, how a woman takes no pleasure from laying with a man yet your body ignores every lesson you've ever been taught. 

A low pressure builds, your thighs starting to shake and your movements quickening. Harwin makes the split decision to help, driving your hips down and over, the new motion brings you to your release. 

You pant against him, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to move you gently, drawing your orgasm out. Slowly he comes to a stop, allowing you a moment to really comprehend what's happening before he shifts in a way that he can plant a kiss on your head.

"Was that good?" 

You nod, a familiar heat rising in your cheeks. Gods that felt fucking magical, and he barely did anything. You can only imagine how his cock will feel. 

He chuckles lightly, coaxing you to sit back and reveal your pretty face. He drags the backs of his fingers down your cheek, memorising each fine detail. Deep down, a small part of him fears this will be the last he'll ever see of it. 

In one movement, Harwin stands and gingerly lowers you onto the fur rug in front of the fire, the flames dancing dangerously close. He knows how much you love the heat. 

You gaze up at him, allowing him the opportunity to worship you. His large hands slip under your shirt, dragging the material as he roams every inch of your side. You arch your back and raise your arms, allowing easier access to glide the shirt off. 

Goosebumps erupt under his hardened callouses, his fingers interlocking with yours once he moves up your arms and allows the shirt to bunch above your head. "Keep them here," he murmurs, capturing your lips. 

You figure he means your hands, nodding against his mouth. His tongue invades your mouth, his breath becoming your own and his fingers flexing at the sheer taste of you. You have no idea how much power you wield over him. 

His hands begin their descent, grazing your flesh and finding solace on your breasts, his mouth following suit. You grab onto the edge of the fur rug, gripping it firmly. 

His tongue flicks your erect nipple, his teeth meeting the tender flesh. He nips and sucks around the area, a hand paying attention to your other breast, careful to administer equally. You gasp and writhe under him, unaware that he could bring you any pleasure from this. 

Eventually, he moves on, stopping at your waistline. He flickers up to you, a silent ask of permission in his eyes. You give an airy yes, anticipation gnawing at you. Harwin pulls your pants and undergarment in one motion, the cool air causing you to jump. 

He laughs softly, grinning at your nakedness, at the way your skin glows under the firelight. Right now, you're all his, his to take, to touch and love. His mind captures this moment, storing it away for a time when he plans on replaying it over and over. 

"How do you feel, Princess, knowing you're about to be my dessert." 

Your eyes brows raise at the comment, unsure of his hidden innuendo. A dark part of Harwin relishes in the fact that it's him, that gets to taint you. That he's the one to open the gates to a whole new world of pleasure. He plans on ruining you for any other man. 

"What are you doing?" You ask more in curiousness than fear. Of all your lessons, the Septas never mentioned a man putting his head between your legs. 

"I'm dining on my Princess, is that alright with you?" A dark glint shines in his eyes from between your thighs, his beard grazing your soft flesh. You whimper, biting your lip and giving him the go-ahead. 

You suck in a deep breath at the first contact of his tongue, your body seizing. Fuck. You throw your head back in a silent moan, Harwin's mouth ravaging you. His tongue explores your folds and clit, emitting all pitches of sounds from you. 

Suddenly his hands snake around your thighs and grip you thoroughly, spreading them further around his head and giving him easier access. You squeal at the feeling of his tongue entering you, pumping in and out. 

"Harwin," your knuckles have since turned white. 

This is a high you never thought you could experience, the intensity hitting you like a wave. The combination of his tongue, his lips and his beard is enough to drive you over. Of course, Harwin intends for you to be fully prepared, momentarily coming up to gauge your reaction as he pushes a finger into you. 

You release a deep groan at the intrusion, the pleasure brewing. He takes his time, moving in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger at the same time his thumb rubs your clit. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to do anything but writhe under his hand. Gods you wish you could put your arms down and grab him, show him how good he's making you feel. Harwin spreads his fingers carefully, intently studying your reaction. He wants you prepped as best as possible, wanting your first-time pain-free. 

With all these motions and pleasantries you fall over the edge, calling out his name. Harwin continues his movements for a second longer before removing his hand, allowing you to come down from your high. 

He skims over you, capturing your lips and emptying your lungs. You instantly wrap your arms around him, eager to keep him close. He grinds himself into you, allowing you a moment to feel how hard he is. 

You lick your lips whilst you watch him undress, tossing his clothes somewhere before diving straight back down to you. You barely get a chance to admire his hard-earned body, instead running your fingers deep into his back muscles. 

"Give me your hand," he guides it down, wrapping it firmly around his cock. You suppress a giggle at his involuntarily deep groan. "This is what you do to me," he says your name. "This, and so much more. You have no idea the kind of control that's in your favour." 

You can't help but smirk. You leave your hand wrapped around him, a little unsure of what to do. "You take the lead, whenever you're ready." Oh. He means for you to put him in. 

You glance down, hesitantly gliding to the tip, drawing it closer. "Can you help?" You have no fucking idea what you're doing. 

His hand envelops your own, guiding it to you and nudging your opening. You suck in a deep breath, flickering up to his own deep blue eyes. He leaves you to your own devices, gritting his teeth at every inch. 

The feeling is unlike anything you've ever experienced. For the time being, it's uncomfortable and unnatural, your body's initial reaction to close your legs and get him out of you. But you don't, removing your hand and granting Harwin the opportunity to ease in. 

"Harwin." You grunt, clawing at his shoulders. 

"You're doing so well, taking me so well." He praises, finally stopping once he's filled you. As time passes, your body begins to relax, climatizing to having his cock stretch you open. 

"Move, please move." You strain, wanting this first part to be over with. 

He does, slowly rocking out and in, the slight pain shifting to pleasure, your deep breaths becoming short. You have no idea what to do besides lay here, wrapped around Harwin as he thrusts into you, restraining himself from fucking you into the rug. 

That will be for later. 

For now, he intends on showing you a softer, gentler side of him, one where he tenderly brings you to release.

He fists the fur beside your head, his other hand on your hip as he steadily moves within you, your back arching slightly when he reaches parts of you, you never thought he'd reach. 

You bring a hand to his face, brushing a part of his curls back and revealing his prominent features, trying desperately to hold contact. 

He uses the hold on your hip as leverage, lifting your hips ever so little when he ruts into you, eliciting all frequencies of sounds from you. Your walls begin to clench around him, alerting him of your impending orgasm. 

Slipping his hand over, Harwin teases your clit, eager to really please you. With this being your first time, your climax quite quickly, Harwin's name falling from your lips. 

You gasp at his sudden eviction, a small part of you wondering if that was it. Harwin soon answers, scooping you up off the ground and planting you beside the fire, your front pressing against the wall. Thankfully the fire leaves it warm. 

"Harwin, what are you-oh fuck!" You cry out at his sudden intrusion, entering from behind. 

Harwin leaves no space between you, your legs spread to give him better access and a hand weaving through your hair and pulling your head to the side. "You wanted this, Princess, and you'll take it." He grunts into your ear, his thrusts hitting sharply. "But don't worry, you'll find yourself soon enjoying it." 

You almost flutter around him, the words sinking in and leaving you in a hot and bothered state. His guttural voice mixed with those cold, demeaning words. 

In a way, he's not wrong, the new position causing all sorts of pleasures to tremble through your body; your nipples grazing the stone, his cock hammering into you and his dominant hands manoeuvring you like a whore. 

You snake an arm around, cupping the back of his head, keeping him close. With your cheek melted into the stone wall, his breath moulds with your own, your lips dangerously near, yet not touching. You close your eyes, enjoying the brutal fucking and not to mention, Harwin's own grunting and groaning. 

It brings you joy to know that he finds great pleasure in you. 

"You have no idea what you've just done, allowing me the honour to be the first to have my way with you. It wasn't a smart move Princess because I intend to ruin you," it's as though his own words spur him on, harshly rutting into you and carving you into the wall. You can do nothing but take it, and endure his treatment. 

You wouldn't have it any other way.

"I intend on breaking you in to my cock, destroying all hope for you to ever enjoy someone else." He lowers his voice almost menacingly. "No one will ever fuck you like I am." 

You attempt a nod, knowing he's correct. As fucked up as it seems, you know that only Harwin can bring you to these highs. He's the only one you'll ever allow to treat you this way. Like an object, a vacant hole. 

You know your close, your legs beginning to shake and your breath quickening. "Harwin, please," you whimper, once again not entirely sure what you're pleading for. 

Whatever it is, you know he can grant it. 

Somehow he hits a deeper angle, leaving you to cry out clenching around him. He falters for a second, close to spilling over himself. He so desperately wants to, but he's holding out. With the new tempo, you crumble, spilling around Harwin as he continues to thrust into you. 

You whine against him, the overwhelming pleasure causing tears to prick in the corners of your eyes. He doesn't stop, only slowing as he whirls you around, picking you up by your thighs and clamping them to his waist. 

"Gods," you moan airily, his cock ramming against your sensitive walls. 

"The seven won't help you here." He muses, observing your expressions. 

Amazingly enough, Harwin increases his tempo, similar to before. You choke, pawing at his chest. "Harwin I can't," 

"Yes you can, hey," he cups your jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. "One more, be a good girl and give me one more, you can do it." 

You bite your lip at the pain beginning to throb, your body exhausted and to be honest, your pussy used. His dark eyes watch you, a hand coming down to press against your clit, helping in relieve that pressure building once again. 

He groans your name, his other hand moving to brace against the skirting around the fireplace. With his strength and subconscious force, he breaks the corner of it. You barely react to the stone crumbling at his feet, more focused on climaxing for a third and final time. 

He swallows your scream, the rush of you around him enough to bring him over, spilling his seed deep. You lean your head back, your chest heaving and no doubt your back scratched. You feel content, Harwin slumping into your shoulder, nuzzling your flesh. 

"I never imagined it would feel like that," you say more to yourself, your fingers threading through his sweaty curls. 

Harwin lifts his head. "It's never like that, Princess." 

-

The wild winds blast through your hair, your dragon's head blocking the majority from hitting you smack bang on your chest. At this height, the force is unimaginable. 

You slowly begin your descent, dreading the moment you land and go back to reality, your cruel reality. In these last few months, you were made to follow your sister during her tour, allowing the lords to put themselves forward for your hand, alongside Rhaenyra. 

You scowled the entire time. A cold, blank sheet was over your face, your eyes narrowed and dark. You could burn your father for the agony he's put you through, refusing your one ask of him. He's strained his relationship with you. 

As more and more days pass, you ponder the thought of running away, denouncing your blood and flying off into the distance, far from this heartache. 

You know it's foolish, that you must uphold your duty, but fuck duty. 

Your dragon lands smoothly, his large frame dwarfing you once you climb down, your hand brushing against his scales and his head. He growls softly, leaning into your palm and hoping to draw this time out. He's missed you, much like the dark-haired knight that only just received word of your arrival. 

You and your sister returned in the night, and since dawn you've been up in the skies, forgetting the situation at hand for a while longer. 

You gesture for the dragon keepers to guide your dragon back into his nest, turning swiftly and making your way up to the Keep. Eyes watch you, studying you with every step. Since your last conversation with your father, you've turned into a cold little bitch. 

It's the only way you know to protect yourself. 

Your steel gaze burns through anyone who makes contact, challenging them to speak their mind. You know of the rumours that spread, how you've turned down every suitor, how your attitude has changed and you are no longer the nice Princess. 

You don't notice the deep blue eyes following your every move through the courtyard, studying your behaviour. A part of you wonders how your first interaction would be, having not spoken a word to him since that night.

After he helped you dress, you snuck back into your room riddled with guilt. Suppose you came to your senses, realising exactly what you'd just done. But somewhere, you didn't care, you still don't. The next day you prepared yourself to send him away, should he come looking, but he never did. 

And then you left, following your sister around Westeros. 

"Have you seen him?" Rhaenyra sidles up to you, accompanying you to your quarters where you must prepare for the large feast. Your father has organised a large gathering where he can personally meet both of your suitors. 

"No." You answer plainly. 

You confessed the incident to Rhaenyra, trusting her to keep it to herself. She has and is more excited for the two of you to speak than you are. 

"We should have you dressed your best tonight, show him what he's had a taste of, and what he's no doubt missing." 

You roll your eyes, looping an arm through hers. She's been your rock through the whole ideal with your father, understanding both sides, yet gravitating towards yours. 

Rhaenyra takes the opportunity to order your ladies as she sees fit, demanding your hair be styled up to accentuate your chest and collarbone, as the dress she picks is an off-the-shoulder. The black and red material falls to the floor, the sleeves being a cape, tying to the bodice only at the shoulder and leaving your arms to be either hidden or shown. 

The dress plunges down your breasts, opting for a revealing look, courtesy of Rhaenyra. She finishes it off with a dragon-like necklace, alluding to the animal protecting your neck. Throughout the design, scales to represent your house has been embroidered, making it one of a kind. 

Your sister's dress is similar, in the revealing sense. The both of you are definitely pushing your father's buttons, and you have no care. 

The hours past by swiftly, and soon it's time to present yourselves. You walk side by side to the great hall, an anxious tug pulling within your stomach. You can't help but wonder how the evening will play out, and just what will happen with Harwin. 

The great doors swing open, Rhaenyra being introduced first as she's the heir, and you second. Your heart rate quickens with each step, hundreds of eyes staring. You debate whether to search for his, your pace faltering as you connect. 

Gods be fucking damned, he looks divine. 

Your mouth dries at his black attire, at his curls being pulled back and revealing his defined features. It seems he's had a similar thought, dressing his best. 

So many words portray through your eyes, so many thoughts and emotions. His jaw flexes as you draw near, his seat being close to the high table. The rest of the room fades, his gaze agonisingly slowly moving down your body, images of your naked figure coming to mind. 

He pauses at your breasts, subconsciously moistening his lips before he flickers up to your face. He inhales sharply. These past months have done you justice, or you've simply become a woman since he had his share of you. 

Your exchange doesn't go unnoticed, by both of your fathers. 

Rounding the high table, you opt to take your seat, unlike Rhaenyra who greets Viserys before joining you. Neither of you bothered for Alicent, who flares daggers at you in particular. She normally leaves you alone, yet since the altercation with your father, she guns for the both of you. 

You keep silent through the speech, given by your father, focusing on the detail of the cloth before you. A burning sensation spreads through you, almost like a sixth sense, sensing a pair of eyes boring into your skull. 

You clench your jaw, preparing to scare them off when you pause. It's Harwin, unable to keep his eyes off you. Your skin heats up, your thighs pressing together. Fuck, the effect he has on you. 

Viserys takes his seat, the people either beginning to eat or taking to the dance floor, music filling the air. You decide to eat, keeping your attention locked on your plate, desperate to finish it before you go looking for Harwin. You want answers, and one way or another you'll get them. 

At some stage a young lordling braves the high table, asking for your hand. You pause your chewing, your eyes venomous. "As you can see, my lord, I have yet to finish my meal," you gesture to the full plate. 

The boy's cheeks redden, and quickly he excuses himself.  You scoff, resuming your meal with your eyes scouring the hall. You watch the people dance, eventually ditching your plate and leaning back in your chair, your eyes narrowing at Harwin's empty place beside his brother.

You find him amongst the crowd, his attention on a young maiden. Or so you thought, until his gaze flickers up to you, before averting again.

He wants to play that game.

Rising, you round the high table and descend the small flight of stairs, accepting the first person to offer a dance and joining everyone else. At first, you attempt to pay attention to your partner, your bodies moving in partial sync across the floor.

It's not until you spin outward, that you notice Harwin, now with a different girl.

With each movement, you glance over at him, a shadow of annoyance covering you as you realise he refuses to acknowledge you.

You inhale deeply, deciding to ignore your heart's biggest ache and try to enjoy your time without him. You switch partners, losing sight of Harwin as the night progresses. You've lost sense of yourself, spinning and moving to the flow of the music, changing partners every so often that you have no idea who each one is. Your cheeks are warm, your eyes alight. You haven't had this much fun in a while, the suitors flocking to you for a chance to dance. 

Your current partner twirls you around, his grip firm and unwavering. For the first time, he matches you, each movement sturdy and confidence clear in his steps. He makes for a great dance partner. You can't help but laugh as he draws you to him, only to raise his arm over your head and redirect you. 

His hand slips from yours, signalling a partner change, and you spin to stop in someone's chest. You instinctively brace yourself on his chest, an apology on your lips as you glance up. "Ser Harwin," you breathe his name. 

"Princess," he curtly acknowledges. 

His chest tightens at your appearance, wide and excited eyes, wisps of hair falling from their place and framing your face. Not to mention, your delicate hands still pressed to him, leaving only a splinter of a gap between you. 

You follow his gaze, realisation dawning. You go to remove yourself from him, when his own hands cover yours, gently plucking them off his chest. You expect him to let go, throw you aside and move on, but he doesn't. 

Harwin grasps your hands, leading you into the next dance. You follow him, lost within the depths of his blue eyes, so many words threatening to tumble out. You move fluently, matching his pace. 

"Harwin," you say lowly, unsure of how to proceed. 

"Don't." Your brows furrow, your chests pressing together as you both move in. "Just don't say anything." 

You scoff. "You expect us to dance in silence?" He says nothing, despite the electricity sparking around you. "I've been gone for months and this is how treat me?" 

"What do you want me to say?" He grits. 

"Anything!" You say a little loudly, breaking contact to stare at his house emblem stitched to his chest. You sigh, closing your eyes. "Why didn't you come to see me?" 

"My apologies, Princess, I didn't realise I was your lap dog." 

You snap up to him. Fire burns within your hard stare. "What is your problem? Why are you like this?" 

He raises an eyebrow, extending you away from his body, only to snap you back to him. You collide with his chest harshly, flashbacks of that night coming to your forefront. Reminders of how easily he dominates you. 

"Are you so dense, Princess, that you can't see your actions have consequences." 

You gape at him, matching his hard levelled glare. "Careful Ser, anyone else and I'd have their head." Normally, Harwin would never dare speak so freely, yet at this moment the mere presence of you sets him alight. He grunts in response to your warning. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling deeply to keep the dragon at bay. The last thing anyone needs is for you to boil over and explode. "What actions are you speaking of?" 

You honestly have no idea what he's referring to. "Ahh, so you're ignorant as well. Tell me again why you came to me that night, why you begged," 

"I did not beg!" You almost growl. Fuck he makes you angry, almost rivalling your father at this moment. Your veins simmer, your stomach twisting in rage. "I told you why-" 

"I don't believe you." Harwin cuts you off. He lowers his face, so close to your own. His breath bares down on you, his lips dangerously near, yet Harwin's movements are calculated. There's no warmth in his eyes. "I think someone got angry at daddy, and decided to get back at him using me." 

You freeze. You never expected him to say that, to call you out. "Harwin," you start, desperation filling you. You need to explain yourself, to make him understand. 

Betrayal flashes across him, his back straightening. "Good evening, princess." He spits out your title, removing himself from you entirely. 

"Harwin," you choke, reaching for him when a figure steps in front of you. You barely give the man a glance before you intend on following the knight. 

"If I may, Princess?" 

You ignore the man offering his hand for a dance, staring off at Harwin as he makes his way through the crowd and exits the hall. Distress floods you, your body shaking as you fight the urge to heave. 

You feel sick. 

"Sister, are you alright?" Rhaenyra notices, immediately coming to your side. You can't say anything, darting between her and where Harwin just left. She nods in understanding. "Go, I'll tell father you're feeling ill."

You squeeze her hand gratefully, before making your way toward a different exit, with a plan of cutting him off. You have vague ideas of where he would go. With everyone in the hall, it leaves the corridors vacant. 

Picking your dress up at the knees, you pick up a run, your shoes hitting the floor lightly as you intend on making minimal noise. Blood roars in your ears, your heart pumping erratically.

You round corners, desperate to slip out of the Keep before anyone realises. Finally, you enter the gardens, stopping when you spot Harwin storming his way toward you, unaware of your presence. 

You step into his view, flinching as he stops dead in his tracks. He goes to speak, but you beat him to it. "I am to speak, and you are going to listen." You raise a finger, keeping him rooted whilst you close the distance. 

You stand dangerously close, your chest heaving and your hair falling to your shoulders. "Yes, I came to you because I was furious because I knew that it'd destroy my father much as he'd done to me. He asked what it would take to contain me, and I voiced a marriage of my own free will. He refused." Harwin stands rigid, his fingers flexing at his sides. "But I came to you-"

"Because you knew I'd do it. You took advantage of my affections for you, you used me!" Harwin raises his voice, his emotions controlling him. You deny it, trying to explain yourself when he talks over you. "You have no idea how I felt the next morning when my own gold cloaks told me that the King was to select your hand. You shattered me," you close your eyes at the sound of your name leaving his lips with such pain, tears building. 

"Yet you have such a fucking hold on me that I stupidly offered my hand." 

Your eyes fly open, meeting his own despite the darkness. The bright moon shines down, lighting the area as best as possible. "You," you drawl, comprehending his words. 

"Yes, and I had to endure your father and his court's laughter." 

"But your his Hands son-first born son! Heir to Harrenhal!" 

He chuckles darkly. "Exactly, all I have to offer you is a half-burnt castle, courtesy of your ancestors." 

You can't fathom that your father didn't even consider Harwin, that he belittled him. He has no idea what he's done. 

"Harwin," he shivers. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. What my father did is cruel," 

"A trait that runs in the family." 

A tear slides down your cheek, defeat seeping in. It seems no matter what you say, Harwin refuses to hear. After a heartbeat of silence, Harwin moves to round you, pausing at your palm coming into contact with his chest. The feel of him sends a shiver down your spine. 

Harwin slides your hand off as if you've burnt him, continuing on his path. An intense wave of pain surges through you, obliterating every part of you without remorse. Your chin trembles, your mind steaming at you to stop him, to fuck the protocols and policies. 

You open your mouth to call out, to tell him the truth but it falls short in your throat, lodged well. You fear for what happens when you lay yourself bare, what he'll say and do. 

"I'm in love with you." 

Harwin completely seizes, as if he was close to falling off a cliff. 

"I came to you, because deep down I knew my father would never approve, especially of us marrying." With each word Harwin approaches you, his body weightless. "So I decided that before I became caged and forced into a dull marriage, that I'd take control and choose who takes my virtue. That I'd lay with the man that I love, even if it were for a night." 

Harwin stands directly behind you, his front pressing against your back, his breath on your neck. "If you're lying to me," 

You turn to face him. "You think I'd allow anyone to treat me like a whore?" 

A flicker of understanding passes between you. How he manoeuvred you, how he controlled you like a puppet and fucked you against the wall without mercy. 

"What do you know of being a whore?" 

You tilt your head, standing on your toes to brush his cheek. "I know I'd let you do whatever you want, so long as it pleases you." 

Harwin inhales sharply, his body itching for you. He murmurs your name, his voice trembling and his restraint slipping. He allows his fingers to loosely hang off your hips, drawing you closer. 

Your mouth ghosts his, the temptation seeping in. You move your arms to his neck, threading your hands through his hair. Harwin groans, his hooded eyes burning through you, his control snapping. 

He captures your lips, his grip on you tightening and his palms travelling every inch of your back, one of them ending up in your hair, the other on your neck. You whimper softly, Harwin using the opportunity to slip in his tongue and ravage you properly. 

You're powerless against him, the lack of oxygen having its effect on your brain. You feel him move you backward, directing you through the garden until you stand flush to a wall, out of sight. Harwin found this hidden spot behind the bushes when he was a young lad, oft venturing here as he grew older to escape his reality. 

He skims down the skirt of your dress, lifting it to cup your pussy. You whine, pulling apart to lean your head into the brick. Harwin smirks at your state, his palm moving in circular motions. 

"Your drenched Princess. How long have you been like this?" He taunts you. 

"Since I laid eyes on you," you answer airily.

Harwin hums in satisfaction, removing your undergarment and tapping the inside of your thigh to signal you step out of it. A chill shudders down your spine in realisation; Harwin plans on having you against this wall, where anyone could easily happen upon you. 

"Hold this," he refers to your skirts, bunching the front into your stomach. You do as he says, biting your lip as he works to remove himself. 

Harwin pauses, his cock hard and throbbing in his hand. "Tell me you want this," he rasps.

"I want you to fuck me." 

A cold smile tugs at his lips, "as my princess commands." 

He nudges into you, giving you a moment before he slides all the way in. You tense, having only had him months ago and nothing since. It doesn't exactly hurt, it feels uncomfortable, like he should be there but he is. 

You grapple with his shoulders, hissing once he reaches the hilt, filling you with every inch of him that you can take. He shudders at your walls clenching around him. 

Slowly he eases out and in, working you to a steady rhythm as to make sure he won't hurt you, that you've accustomed to him. You have. 

He slams his hand onto the wall beside your head at the same time his hips rut into you. Your mouth opens in a silent groan, your forehead pressing against Harwin's as he intends to watch you. 

Each thrust is intentional, his cock hitting as deep as possible and his slow but hard movements driving you crazy. Your whimpers and small sounds spur him on, a hand on your hip to help leverage him into you. 

Though he's fucked you before, you still have no idea what to do, not wanting to just stand here and take his brutal pace. You remember how it felt to have your legs around his waist, how he was able to hit deep angles and completely fill you. 

Lifting a leg up, you hook your ankle around his waist, Harwin instantly shifting. His hand glides down to your thigh, keeping it locked to him and his hips drive deeper into you. 

You begin to feel that burn within your abdomen, brewing with each thrust, especially as he switches to almost completely vacating you before he hits home. You cry out, Harwin instantly covering your mouth. 

"Quiet Princess, otherwise this ends very quickly." Harwin grunts, referring to someone potentially finding you. 

You attempt to nod. He doesn't exactly trust your control, keeping his palm where it is as he continues to piston out of you, his heavy pants signalling how close he's getting. 

You dig your heel into his lower back, so close to falling over the edge, desperate for him to follow. Harwin glides his hand from your thigh to your clit, paying particular attention to the bundle of nerves and the added sensation being enough for you to climax. 

Your moan is muffled, Harwin's hips faltering at the feeling of you gushing around him. His own restraint slips, his cock ramming into you one last time, his seed spilling. His head falls to your shoulder, his hand slipping from your mouth to rest on the side of your head. 

Your chest heaves, a slight sense of fatigue threatening to wash over you. "I hate you, with every fibre of my being." He whispers into your skin, his lips grazing your exposed collarbone. 

"I know." You reply, your mouth dry as you run a caressing hand over his hair. You don't know what to do from this point onward, whether you and Harwin go your separate ways or you fight for him. 

It ultimately falls on him.

"I would burn this fucking city to the ground for you," you murmur, wanting him to comprehend just how much he plagues you, how much he wields you, how nothing else matters in this lifetime but him. Hesitantly, Harwin lifts his head, unprepared for the serious glint in your eye. "Don't give up on me, not yet."

"Then don't leave me." 

Your lilac eyes shine with fire and determination. "Never. I love you too much," he looks away, releasing a heavy breath as though he doesn't believe you. "Hey," you grab his face, forcing him to meet your stare. "I have loved you, since I was a girl. You, are why I hate my status. If I were a lower-born daughter, we could have wed a long time ago, without the burden of our duties." 

"Show me," his words are barely audible, but you catch them. Show me.

Steadily you lower your leg from his waist, ignoring the slight irritation from your hips and sudden blood flow. His soft cock slips from you, hanging limp. Pushing down the nerves that erupt along your body, you sink to your knees, glancing up at him through your lashes. 

A flicker of surprise passes over Harwin. He didn't exactly mean this. Though he'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity. 

"You're the only man I'll get on my knees for," you quip, tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock. 

Harwin hisses at the contact, his hand bracing himself against the wall. You allow instinct to take over, cautiously pumping him, studying Harwin's reactions. His lips part, his breath becoming heavy with each glide, his cock hardening under your touch. 

"Am I doing it right?" You ask nervously, unsure of what else you could be doing to him. 

"Princess," he grits, his fingers curling into a fist above you. "You keep that up and I won't be able to last." 

Your cheeks flare at his comment, your thumb brushing over his inflamed head. Harwin grunts under your ministrations, his other hand flexing as he withholds the urge to grip your hair. 

"Can you teach me, how to use my mouth?" 

Harwin's eyes fly open, instantly finding your own. "You don't have to, what your doing is just fine." 

"But I want to," you pause your movements, looking up at him expectantly. "Either teach me or I'll learn myself." 

His eyebrows rise to his hairline. "You are a determined thing, aren't you?" You scowl, gently tightening your grip on him. "Alright alright," he repeats, his body stiffening. "Put it in, and for the love of the seven, don't use your teeth." 

A wicked grin spreads across your face, setting Harwin on edge as you take him into your mouth, inwardly cringing for a moment. Harwin shudders, his hip's reflexively jutting forward. 

"Just," he pants, at the mere feeling of his cock inhabiting your mouth. "Move like you were before, and use your tongue." 

Your brows furrow slightly, hesitantly gliding along his cock and back down, dragging your tongue on his underside. He groans, his hand coming to your hair and threading it. How he so desperately wishes to face fuck you, but he won't. Not until you're his. 

You bob your head, following Harwin's instructions as he guides you to bring him to a climax, his leverage on your head allowing him to gingerly rut his hips into you. "Good girl," he murmurs, his eyes closing in pleasure. 

An idea flickers, your tongue swirling around his swollen head and your hand wrapping around the base of him, a small smirk threatening to spread as Harwin stammers. 

You feel powerful, knowing that your mere mouth can bring Harwin to this state, his moral restraint close to breaking like the chains kept around your dragon. 

Harwin calls your name, his cock twitching in your mouth. He's close, dangerously close and he fears that if you don't stop, he won't pull out in time. You remember how he felt you near your climax the night he disappeared between your thighs, sucking gently on your clit to bring you over. 

You wonder if the same applies to him. 

You move to his tip, gently sucking. Harwin cries out at the unexpected sensation, forcing his hips forward and ultimately thrusting his cock further into your mouth as he shatters. 

You squeak, his seed filling your mouth and slipping down your throat. You can't help but cringe at the taste, pulling off him to wipe your mouth. 

Slowly raising, you observe Harwin's state, as he comes down from his high. He releases a heavy breath, his senses clearing. A sense of pride runs through you, for being able to please him as he did to you. 

Being with a man, is not at all what the Septas told you. 

Harwin grabs the underside of your jaw, pulling you up to him. You fist his jacket, a small moan escaping you when his tongue slips in. He doesn't care that he can taste himself. 

He steals your breath, your lungs aching and that familiar burn searing through your abdomen. He reluctantly pulls back, his forehead leaning on yours, his lips feathering you, refusing to completely stop. 

"Harwin," you whisper, your hands sliding to his neck, playing aimlessly with his loose curls. "What are our next moves?" 

"Hmm?" He hums absentmindedly, too lost in the feeling of your cheek against his. He nuzzles you, an act of intimacy that even fucking you couldn't compare to. 

You chuckle, deciding to leave it and enjoy the moment, as much as the two of you should plan out the next steps. 

"You're mine," he says lowly, his gravelly voice sending chills down your spine. "And I'm yours." 

You nod, a smile gracing your lips. "You've ruined me for anyone else."

Tag List: @iwillboilyourteeth @sageshorrorblog @gibbsgirl7 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @missusnora @jdm-traash @happynerdtale @westeros-needs-me @killthedarkthoughts @stardustdragon9 @my-watch-begins @ietss @znanaworm @fulla02

[auroraborealyss]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 | 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞.

⊹ fandom house of the dragon

⊹ pairing ser harwin strong x reader

⊹ synopsis when the fight breaks out, ser harwin strong decides to get the most important lady in the room to safety

⊹ tags some sexual tension—sexual fluff is the term i'd use it; "who did this to you?" trope + wound bandaging; unexpected marriage proposal in the end because i can't control where my stories go

⊹ warnings fighting, hotd spoiler for 1.05

⊹ word count 1305

The crowd thickens on the dance floor. You are sitting off to the side, on your third cup of wine, watching with amusement as your best friend gets in a heated discussion with Daemon in the middle of the room for the entire crowd to watch. As interested as you are as to what will happen between them, you take a sip and divert your eyes away so if someone were to interrogate you, you’d be able to feign cluelessness.

Your eyes sweep over the room, taking in the attendees. There’s King Viserys, who’s aggressively moving his knife back and forth in a cutting motion except he’s missing the actual chicken because he’s too absorbed watching with scandalised eyes at his brother and daughter.

Then there’s Queen Alicent, who’s also watching, but more subtly. She’s gotten better at concealing her emotions, and much better at learning the subtle ways of the court. You’ll have to warn Rhaenyra about her old friend.

But like every time the two of you are in the same room together, your eyes are eventually drawn to him. Unsurprisingly, he’s already staring at you. Ser Harwin Strong stands across the room with someone talking to him, but it’s clear he’s no longer interested in them. You smile at him, and he bows his head in greeting. His eyes shamelessly rake you up and down, and to tease and appease his appetite which you know all too well, you lean forwards slightly so your dress gives him a much nicer view. You grin at his smile.

That is the crux of your relationship. Longing glances from across the room, a moment of flirtation that doesn’t lead everywhere. For now, it’s fun. Sneaking around, teasing each other in public, the possibilities of what could be existing in the inch of space between your lips when you have your back against the wall and his chest pressed against yours, never pushing further, but not pulling away. You’re both satisfied with it for now. But how long will it last before it’s no longer enough and you both must make the decision of either being together or forever apart?

A scream rises above the crowd, tearing your attention from him. Duty and loyalty to the princess takes over your body, and you stand in search for Rhaenyra immediately. You catch sight of her white hair and see as the thick crowd, now panicked, shove the princess aside.

“Rhaenyra!” you shout out to her, but no one hears you.

No one except for ser Harwin, who despite being so far from you and on the other side of the panicking crowd, sees you grab the knife you had been cutting your chicken with and head determinedly into the crowd to defend your friend. As frustrated he is by you endangering yourself, he can’t help but chuckle at the sight of your stubbornness, loyalty, and bravery. But worry overtakes him as you disappear into the throng of bodies, gone from his view.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father motion for him to grab the princess. Harwin stretches his head to the left before shoving aside the person in front of him, then the person behind them and every else who stands in his way. He occasionally punches someone if they won’t move. As the crowd gets even thicker, he begins to use his body to barrel his way through. He does pretty much anything that needs to be done until he catches a glimpse of you again, now having made it to the princess’ side. Blood drips down your knife. The sleeve on your pretty blue dress is ripped, and he sees blood stains around it.

You turn and your eyes meet, as if you could just feel his presence when he came near enough.

“Ser Harwin,” you gasp out. “Take the princess to safety—OH!”

The floor disappears from under your feet.

You scream out as his large hands grasp your waist, and with barely a grunt, hoist you over his very broad shoulders. The heat from his hands is familiar, the grip on your waist drawing memories from two nights before, but in this moment, all you feel is anger and disbelief as you are carried away from Rhaenyra who is picked up in a similar position by another member of the city watch.

“Put me down, ser Harwin!” you shout. You slam your fists against his back, not that he’d feel it.

“Stop moving, my lady,” he says gruffly.

You twist around so you can see a glimpse of where you’re going. One hand is still wrapped around your legs to keep you from falling. His other hand is shoving people aside to clear a way.

“PUT ME DOWN!” You try to kick, but his grip tightens.

Then he slaps your ass.

“I said, stop moving!”

Realizing that this isn’t a fight you’re going to win, you huff and stay still as he fights through the rest of the room. Only out in the hall where it’s silent, empty, and dark, does he bend down to put you gently on the ground.

You slap his chest. “You were supposed to get the princess to safety!”

“I was getting my lady to safety first,” he says unabashedly.

“You can’t put me above Rhaenyra!”

“Can’t I?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words. You look down and see that his hands are still gripping your waist, as if he’s still keeping you safe. Silence passes between you, only the sounds of his and yours heavy breathing filling the air. Gradually, your anger ebbs away, but still his grip doesn’t loosen.

“You can let go of me now, ser Harwin,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

He doesn’t. He steps forward, forcing you take a step backward. Forwards, back, forwards, back, your eyes never looking away from his until your back hits the wall. He takes a step forward. Then another. He’s much taller than you, and much broader. His entire presence looms over you, but you don’t feel terrified or small. If anything, you only feel protected. Secure.

Loved.

He reaches for his shirt and tears a strip from the bottom. You don’t protest as he dabs the blood on your arm before wrapping it over the wound. When he’s done, he bends down to press a kiss against it.

“Does it hurt?” he asks softly.

You shake your head. The scalding touch of him being so close to you yet not doing anything is more unbearable than the knife that cut you.

“Who did it?”

“Harwin.”

“People get hurt from fights all the time. No one will know it was intentional.”

You can’t stop the chuckle from escaping. He smiles softly at you and moves even closer so his forehead is resting against yours, his breath warm over your lips.

“You can’t do that again,” he says.

You look at him challengingly. “Can’t I?”

“No, you can’t. Stop risking yourself.”

“Rhaenyra is my friend, and I have a feeling that things are only going to get worse from here. I have to stay by her side and protect her.”

He sighs, and you know he understands that he can’t ask you to forsake your friendship with her. “Then I will stand by your side and protect you,” he says instead.

You raise your brows. “Oh, will you?”

“Enough of this hiding around and being on opposite ends of the room. I want to be by your side at all times.”

“And how will you do that, ser Harwin?”

He takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Marry me,” he says, and you feel everything in you stop until he is all you can see and think and feel.

“Marry me and be mine.”

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖽? 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄 𝗌𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗇𝗈. 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗍𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗑 + 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌? 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒.

𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽. 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝖽 (𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇). 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Since you mentioned Harwin… (smut pleek)

Princess | Harwin Strong

i had no idea what you wanted other than *harwin* so i hope you like this!! (tho the title sucks so bad but i’m too lazy to think of a better one)

warnings: smut, 18+, mentions of loss of virginity?, bits of fluff ig, fem!reader (?) x harwin but other than that there’s no specifications!

idk how to do this warning shit ngl. also my first time writing smut and you didn’t really specify so… also it’s not proof read at all so read at your own risk

summary: the morning after ser harwin breakbones carries his princess to safety and has his way with her

word count: 1.2k (ish)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Whispers of dawn kissed her cheeks, bursts of gold rallying against the dark of her closed eyes, and the Princess smiled against the softness of her pillow as she registered the warm weight slung over her bare hips.

Harwin’s calloused hand was splayed against her stomach, holding her close throughout the night and break of day. Her smile grew wider as he grumbled unintelligibly and his grip tightened. She could only spare half a thought for her dear sister - poor Rhaenyra stuck with a heartbroken Laenor on her wedding night - as she felt her new found lover stir.

“Good morning, Princess.”

His voice, deep and still cloaked in sleep, was laced with a sense of smug satisfaction she would have found insufferable on anyone else. Luckily for Ser Harwin Strong, she found him far too endearing for her own good. “Good morning, Ser.”

She could feel his lazy grin against her shoulder as he peppered gentle kisses along her smooth skin. “So proper,” he teased as his kisses reached the slope of her neck.

“I’m a Princess,” she sniffed, tilting her head.

He smirked and bit her neck lightly, “A dirty Princess, what would your father think?”

Holding in her whimper, the Princess arched a brow despite knowing he couldn’t possibly see it. “I’d rather not think of my father at all, thank you.”

Harwin hummed as he nuzzled her jawline. His heated breath made her shiver and his grin widened. Last night felt like a dream - one he’d had many, many times over the past few moons. A dream that was often accompanied by his hand in his trousers after. King Viserys would have his head on a spike if he ever found out just what the knight had done to his precious daughter, but Harwin couldn’t find it in him to care much. He had the most beautiful woman in Westeros in his arms and he wasn’t about to let any man - King or not - stop him from relishing this moment.

She turned to face him and his heart stuttered at the softness in her eyes as she smiled. No one had looked at him like that before, certainly not a Princess.

“What?”

His own smile turned just as soft. “You’re beautiful.”

She snorted lightly and he had to stop himself from looking like a complete idiot and confessing his love and adoration at the sound. “Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight.”

He couldn’t help himself; he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and grasped her chin delicately in his large hand. Gods when had he last been this gentle with anyone? She seemed so small compared to him - although most people were small to him - and his chest felt tight in the best possible way as he looked at her. “You are the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.”

A blush crept up her neck and Harwin smiled smugly at the sight. She had been so confident the night prior, seeing her uncharacteristic shyness before him now made his cock stiffen and, judging by her deepening flush, she could feel it too. “You’re the first man I’ve lain with,” she admitted.

He didn’t tell her that he hoped he’d be the only man she’d ever lie with. Instead he opted for the safer choice, “Well one union had to be consummated, Gods knows your sister’s wasn’t.”

She gasped indignantly and slapped his chest. “Ser Harwin!”

Clasping her hand to his chest, he leaned over. “Yes, Princess?” He was lying fully on top of her now and he felt his pride swell as her eyes flickered to his lips.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I figured that having fucked the King’s daughter, a few jests on his heir’s behalf couldn’t make things much worse.” He grinned as she gaped up at him and took the opportunity to finally kiss her lips again.

She moaned quietly as she parted her lips for his tongue. Harwin made her feel a thousand things at once. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or scared or shy or offended anymore, all she knew for certain was the very obvious effect he had on her body.

The Princess had resigned herself to admiring the knight from afar until he had carried her to her rooms during the commotion at Rhaenyra’s wedding. Having him in her rooms after saving her like that… how was she meant to resist him?

She was no damsel in need of saving like in one of the stories her mother had told her as a child, but being tossed over his strong shoulder after he had immediately stepped into the fray to save her set off the butterflies in her stomach.

It was wrong. Her father would lose his mind if he found out, especially after the recent rumours of her sister’s indiscretions. But she couldn’t ignore the thought that he might consent to a match between them and her groan as Harwin slipped his hand between her thighs was far louder than she had expected.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess.”

She groaned again and shut her eyes, unable to stop herself from grinding against the palm of his hand as he fucked her with his fingers. Harwin didn’t bother to disguise his own groan as he watched his fingers disappear into her over and over.

“Look at me.”

It took an embarrassing amount of effort for her eyes to open and find his. His intense stare alone almost pushed her over the edge.

“You’re going to look at me while you come undone on my fingers, Princess.”

She couldn’t hold back her whimper. “Yes,” she breathed.

Harwin grinned at her. “Good girl.” He added a third finger and watched as she struggled to keep her orgasm at bay. Gods she was stunning: legs spread wide just for him, hair wild against her pillow and her chest flushed.

“Harwin.”

“Princess?”

She could barely form a sentence. “Please.”

“Use your words.”

A brilliant shade of pink covered her cheeks. She’d never felt so submissive in her life. She was a Princess, she wasn’t meant to take orders from those beneath her, and yet here she was acting like a whore - on the verge of begging - for a mere knight. Gods she loved it. “I can feel it, please.”

“Such a good Princess,” Harwin murmured as his fingers found her clitoris. Her moans were so loud he almost feared the entirety of the Red Keep would hear but he didn’t stop and he didn’t dare tell her to be quiet. “Let go for me.”

He felt her shudder around his digits and he stared, transfixed, at the way her thighs shook and her bosom heaved. Her moans gradually turned to soft whimpers and Harwin made sure she watched as he licked his fingers clean. She tasted even better than she had last night.

It took a few minutes for his Princess to catch her shaky breath and Harwin swallowed roughly as he studied the glisten of sweat on her brow. “I suppose I ought to do the honourable thing now.”

The Princess looked at him in confusion, mind still clouded with pleasure. “Honourable thing?”

He couldn’t stop himself this time. “I’m going to love you, wed you and fuck you for the rest of your life, Princess.”

[house-strong]

— THE COMMANDER’S tryst ʾ ⋆

summary ; requested by anon.

“can you write some targaryen!princess getting married to harwin strong? maybe a younger sister to rhaenyra and maybe because she’s the second child to the king she’s put into the background but harwin is just utterly devoted to her.”

pairing ; targaryen!reader x pre-established!harwin strong

notes ; when i tell you i screamed when i saw this in my inbox …. devoted harwin is my weakness,, i just know he’s a giver.

“my princess,” a baritone voice slices the silence that’s settled in the air. you know his voice all too well and the mere title sends a warm chill down your spine, stopping you in your tracks.

you spin on your heel with practiced movement, silver wisps of hair dancing in the air and gown flowing with life. you’re greeted by a pair of warm, round eyes and brown tussles of hair that you have both grown too fond of. he’s wearing the garments of a courtly lord; clothes of leather topped with a cape and adorned with house strong blue. it’s strange to see him in this attire, but it’s a lovely sight indeed.

“ser harwin,” you greet, hands moving behind your back as the pair of you close the gap between each other. once you are close enough, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

he takes a moment to drink in your appearance; famous silver hair in neat plaits and fashioned into a popular southern hairstyle that he had grown to like, a red dress with wide sleeves, and gold jewelry to match your skin. he sucks in a quiet breath – gods, how beautiful you looked.

he surveys the dim-lit hallway, carefully examining if there were any one to see or hear what was about to transpire. he suddenly grasps your arm with his gloved hand and pulls you into the nearby room. you don’t have enough time to react, but you feel the press of your back against a wooden door and soft, warm lips against your own.

you melt into the kiss and return it happily, a sigh falling from your mouth when you part. although it’s short lived, you can’t help but hold on to the lingering buzz of ecstasy on your lips. your eyes flutter open and notice how visibly dark it is, though, you can make the faint outline of ser harwin’s face. you raise a hand and gently caress his cheek; he responds by closing his eyes and leaning into your touch.

“i’ve missed you,” he starts, opening his eyes after a moment as he holds the wrist of the hand that’s touching his cheek. he moves your hand just enough to give the palm a kiss. his hands move to your own face, gently moving your hair behind your shoulders. he leans in and kisses your forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of perfume that lingered in the air around you. ser harwin was obsessed. “i’m sorry that i haven’t had the time to see you,” he pauses, “it was never the right moment.”

“and i’ve missed you,” you respond, eyes fluttering as you stare up at the knight in front of you once he pulls away. a smile reaches his eyes, one that you can’t help but return. “it’s alright, i thought that would’ve been the problem. but, we’re here now, aren’t we?”

you move to your tippytoes, hands against harwin’s chest for support as you lean up to kiss his cheek. your hand grazes against the clothing, making a beeline for his shoulders. your hands find his hair and tug at the curls with refined gentleness.

ser harwin hums, “not here, my love. i have some news i’d like to share.” this gains your interest, so you halt your advances and retreat, returning to lean against the door. you relax and your hands find the strap of his scabbard, tugging at it playfully.

“and that is?”

the knight clears his throat and moves away from you, too distracted by the small advancements you were making. he thinks for a moment, deciding how he would share the conversation he had with his lord father, lyonel strong. he thought that the outcome was a great idea, but was nervous to hear your response. he had hoped your devotion would match his.

“my father has suggested that i take a wife, seeing as i will inherit harrenhal someday. i agreed, and i’ve asked for you. he will meet with the king and ask for our betrothal.”

the words that fall from his lips churn your belly into a euphoric bliss, a long-awaited pleasantry that you would both now be able to enjoy. to hold hands in public, to stop the secret meetings (although they were an adrenaline rush and you loved the dirtiness of it), and to officially be his and him yours. you didn’t care for castles, being royalty, or the political aspect of it – you weren’t rhaenyra, thankfully, and was subjugated to more lenient terms of being a targaryen princess.

you can’t help but laugh in joy. your hands meet together at your mouth, your lips parted in awe as you try to make full sense of the situation. you were so sure your father would say yes. ser harwin was a respectable man, handsome, and strong, with a reputation as a knight. although he did have the ruins of harrenhal, you were sure that together you could make it home. you return from your thoughts when you see ser harwin cross the room in a few strides and kneel to the floor in front of you.

“it’s always been you,” he breathes, hands cupping your hips. he looks up, eyes wide with hope, love, and adoration. this was what you loved about him. the devotion, the unwavering loyalty – the never ending hope that this would turn out into something more than a midnight tryst. harwin feels as if he could cough out his stomach, though, he’d do that and so much more if it meant he had the privilege of calling you his lady-wife.

a shiver runs through ser harwin, despite the warmth that radiated between the two of you. he’s overjoyed at the position reaction you had given him, and the onslaught of emotions leaves him sick to his stomach. he exhales slowly to quell the feeling before rising to his feet.

“before the new moon rises, we shall be husband and wife.”

and he was right.

within the fortnight, lyonel strong remained faithful to his son and visited the king in his private quarters. the hand had given the king his proposition; his son, ser harwin, married to his daughter, the younger targaryen princess. your father didn’t let a moment pass before he had said yes. he, if not everyone, had noticed the longing gaze and lingering touches that mingled between you and ser harwin, the bare signs of obvious and mutual attraction was evident and reminded him of himself and his late wife, queen aemma.

if rhaenyra couldn’t find happiness within the men in the realm, then perhaps you shall.

a royal wedding was no easy event to miss – the festivities lasted for almost fortnight, and the bells of king’s landing had rung for what seems like an entirety of the month.

the actual wedding was stunning, an event taken out from the writings of fairytales. a mixture of reds, blues, and gold had adorned every tapestry that was strung along the streets. great houses from across the southern plains, and even some from the northern realm, had gathered to watch the commencement of yourself and ser harwin. your dress was a beautiful sight – a vibrant blue gown adorned with trinkets and jewelries. lace detailing gave the dress more depth and the house sigils of house targaryen and house strong were embroidered on your shoulders. a dark, free-flowing cape had followed your figure as you were walked down the aisle.

and in front of a weirwood tree and maester, as house strong had followed the faith of the seven, was your marriage to ser harwin made.

the road to harrenhal was sweet and short, a journey that didn’t even last a fortnight. though in some ruin, the castle of harrenhal was majestic with towering walls that seemed to touch the sky. blackened stone shone fierce against the strength of the sun and scaffolds lined the castle walls. ser harwin had mentioned that him and his father were overseeing a project to restore the castle to a shadow of its former glory. this was now your home.

as your party enters, the people of harrenhal had make quick work to tidy the castle and string festivities up on the walls. they were excited to greet the future lord and lady of their province and they made sure to voice their support of your marriage. when you stopped at the steps to the heart of the castle, stewards seem to come out from the shadow and aid you – keeping your horse still and bringing a small step stool to aid your descent from your horse.

ser harwin takes your hand and climbs the steps with you, his other hand carefully rubbing your back. the knight is more than excited to have you here – here in the place that he and his family had called theirs.

“you know,” he says under his breath, the air fanning the side of you cheek to show how close he is. you turn your head and look at him. you can’t help but notice the obvious desire and mischief that seemed to bring his warm eyes to life. “if they don’t know your name now, they will after tonight.”

the mere sentence is enough to make your knees weak and cause a blush to highlight the fullness of your cheeks. ser harwin was everything more of an affectionate lover. he knew everything and more on how to make your toes curl and turn your soft moans of delight into a cry of pleasure.

“ser harwin,” you warn, a grin causing your lips to part to reveal your teeth. crows feet gathers at the corners of his eyes and harwin is far from being accustomed to the beauty of your face. he reaches behind your head and pulls a pin or two out, causing the curls of your once intricate hairstyle of twists and turns to turn into nothing more than a braid followed by a wave of white. he decides that he likes your hair this way the most.

“lady-wife,” he counters back, pressing into you close before placing a delicate, yet passionate kiss on to your lips. his arm wraps around you and gives you stability against his weight. passion turns to desire and his wandering hand starts to become noticeable. you pull away despite the tingling sensation that slowly started to develop.

“husband, i don’t think it’s appropriate to subjugate your people to watch us in these halls.” the new use of husband doesn’t fail to make you giddy.

harwin shakes his head, tufts of hair bouncing as kisses your cheek, then your jaw, “yes, here.” once he notices that his affections aren’t being returned, he smiles innocently at the expression on your face. “our people,” he corrects.

his hand slides into yours and he leads you to the fine chambers. he pushes the door open and you both are greeted by royal chests that held your personal belongings and gifts for your marriage. harwin is quick to reach the bed and he turns with a playful grin on his lips.

“shall we?”

your ever devoted husband kept his promise. from that night, every steward and castle-worker made sure to call you ‘lady strong’ and ‘princess’, as their lord’s son had that night.

[maidragoste]

Another Man

Summary: Harwin discovers that there is another man in your life.

part 2 of this.

part 3

I'm just going to say that I don't regret anything and that I have many ideas to continue writing to this MC and her lovers 🥰💖

comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Harwin misses you. He misses your smiles, your kisses, your hugs, he misses how you took care of him every time he came back hurt or tired of his guards, he misses the talks until dawn, he misses waking up by your side.

Since Jacaerys's birth, the only thing he received from you was silent treatment and hateful looks every time they were alone. You had kicked him out of your chambers so he now slept alone but from time to time you made him spend the night with you just so as not to arouse more suspicion at court.

The first time you called him Harwin he had felt so hopeful thinking that your love for him was great enough to forgive him and give him another chance. He believed that your invitation to your chambers was the first step in making things right. He was disappointed and heartbroken when you didn't even greet him when he entered your chambers, all you told him, or rather ordered him, was that he come to your quarters every ten days. Before you sleep you always put pillows between the two of you. Sometimes he took advantage of your deep sleep to move the pillows and hug you, pretending that everything was fine between the two of you and that you still loved him.

Today marks ten days since he last came to your chambers. Despite your silent treatment, he was eager to go, it always calmed him down to see you sleep and he could hug you without you wanting to kill him, so he didn't even bother to knock on the door and went directly to your chambers. His anxiety turned into concern when he saw that the maester was with you.

"What happened?" he came quickly to your side. He didn't see that you had any wounds or cuts or that you were bleeding so he hoped that whatever your ailment was it wasn't something serious.

"Nothing to worry about, Lord Strong, I was just bringing your wife some tea to calm her nausea."

"Nausea? Are you sick?"

"Thank you for your help, maester" you nodded and waited for him to leave to answer your husband "I'm pregnant"

Harwin felt as if you had plunged a knife into his heart. Is that how you felt when you looked at Jaceaerys and realized that it was his son? Did you feel this pain when he confessed to you that he loves Rhaenyra too? He deserved to feel the same pain he caused you. He had been the first to break your heart by falling in love with the princess and getting into her bed. He was the one who ruined your marriage and lost your trust and love. He had no right to feel angry or betrayed. He had only caused all of this. If he had only been brave enough to talk to you earlier about his feelings for Rhaenyra, if only he had been honest with you, maybe they would have come to some kind of agreement, and maybe things would be better than they are now. Maybe he wouldn't have lost you.

You had already told him that he had lost you but he acted as if he had never heard those words and he hope that by some miracle you will forgive him. Now that you were carrying another man's child, he could see that you were serious.

Harwin wanted to ask you who you slept with and if you loved your new lover but he felt he had no right to know, but he didn't want to know either, he couldn't bear to hear that your heart now belonged to someone else. He preferred to believe that you had only let another man into your bed in revenge, that this was all about hurting him the same way he hurt you, and that there was no feeling involved.

"You can stop coming when I'm five months pregnant." You informed him as if he were a worker that you won't need his services anymore "If someone asks, I'll just say that the maester recommended we not share a bed until the baby is born" you took the cup of tea and walked away from him.

That night Harwin didn't move the pillows nor did he hug you while you slept. He couldn't even bear to stay in your bed all night and know that someone else was in the same place as him, he couldn't stop thinking about scenarios of you with your unknown lover.

•••••

The guard saw you and instantly turned away from the door knowing that the queen was already waiting for you. It wasn't a secret that you spent most of your time with her and her children.

"Sorry for being late" you apologized entering the room and interrupting the conversation between Larys and Alicent, first you approached her to give her a short kiss, you smiled at her when you saw her blush and then you went to kiss Larys "Your son doesn't wanted to get away from Sunfyre so it took me longer than expected to take him to his lessons with the maester," you said as you sat between the two of them, the affection you had for the prince in your voice.

“About Sunfyre…

You knew that tone in Alicent, she was worried and you knew why, you three had already had this conversation more than once. Ever since she found out you were pregnant she didn't want you to spend time in Dragon's Pit. She was afraid that one day one of the guards would come to tell her that one of those beasts had attacked you. You got tired of repeating to her that this would not happen.

You looked at Larys. You could tell from the boredom on his face that they were also talking about it before you got there.

“Aegon has to learn to care for and bond with his dragon. If his father doesn't bother to teach her then someone has to do it” you interrupted her and began to cut your meat with more force than necessary. Every time you think of Viserys you feel anger for the little attention she gave to her children but of course, he had time and attention for Rhaenyra's bastard. "A dragon would never harm its rider"

"But what about you? You are not its rider. It is dangerous. Especially in your condition” Alicent looked at you anguished. She didn't want anything to happen to you. King's Landing without you would be hell. You are the person she trusts the most. It hadn't been Alicent's intention to cling to you. But you're the only person who really cares for her, for Alicent Hightower, and not for the queen.

It all started when her engagement to Viserys was announced, Rhaenyra began to hate her and pushed her away. She thought you would support the princess and do the same. She was surprised that you stayed by her side and listened to her, you didn't call her a liar when she told you that she only did what her father ordered, instead you guiltily confessed that you were also in her position and that you believed that Viserys didn't choose you because you admitted to him that you were in love with Harwin Strong.

Alicent looked so lonely and sad without Rhaenyra. You didn't know if it was the guilt you carried thinking you should be taking Alicent's place but you started spending time with her. The first time you found her in the weirwood you pretended it was a coincidence, the second time you admitted you were looking for her on purpose, after the third time it became a routine to meet there at the same time. One day Alicent woke up and the first thing she thought about was that she longed for the time to come so she could see you. Every time she was with you she felt calm, she wasn't nervous thinking about what role she should be playing or thinking if she said the wrong thing she would push you away.

"Sunfyre won't do anything to me unless I hurt Aegon, which I never will" you took the queen's hand and gave it a squeeze "So you have nothing to worry about" you kissed her knuckles. "Now can we continue eating or is there something else to discuss?”

"Harwin was seen sneaking into the princess's chambers again," Larys informed you, and he carefully appraised you looking for any trace of sadness or disappointment in your eyes. He was satisfied to find none of it. The truth was that He hadn't believed that you had completely overcome your feelings for his brother, but it was more than clear from your face that you no longer cared what Harwin did.

"I'm not surprised, considering that I told him about my pregnancy last night," you admitted stroking your stomach with your free hand. "I don't care what Harwin does anyway because I have both of you" you smiled and Alicent felt her heart rise. She loved you so much and she was happy that her feelings were finally reciprocated. She shouldn't be happy that Harwin cheated on you but if it wasn't for your husband's infidelity then you wouldn't be with her and Larys now.

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[simpingland]

Ooohhhh okie so;

Can I get a Harwin x Fem!Reader

Major fluff, I’m thinking Harwin either wining or losing to Daemon at a tourney and reader like cleans him up as they share a bath.

The idea is really vague.

(Feel free to ignore!!)

Crown of Soap.// Ser Harwin Strong x fem!reader.

Summary: Ser Harwin only wants to crown his wife as the Queen of Love and Beauty. And the problem is not that Daemon is his opponent, but that his wife does not want Harwin to win the tournament.

A/N: sorry if this was too much introduction till the bath. I LOVED THIS IDEA. Thank you for reaching, hope you like it❤️gif not mine.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Days at King Viserys's court were quiet considering the presence of Prince Daemon. Daemon's marriage to his beloved niece Rhaenyra had brought happiness to the family, though it was a difficult decision for the King. But the Princess radiated joy and quickly outgrown your reputation as a happy bride. Whenever Rhaenyra appeared in your room, your husband Harwin left politely but hurriedly. You could see him roll his eyes when your attention was taken from him, and you could only smile at his politeness, knowing full well that he was not irritated, and that he was exaggerating just to amuse you. You, on the other hand, were deeply happy for your dear friend Rhaenyra, who had trusted you from the first day you sat beside her. And of course, the Crown Princess's wedding deserved something grand, something to entertain the nobles, a tournament.

"No, Harwin, there is no need for you to participate," you told him at dinner. Your refusal took him by surprise.

"And why not? It will be fun. Besides, who can beat me?"

Ser Harwin "Breakbones," of course, and his confident smile appeared at that nickname. And the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his arms would never deny it, but not everything lasts forever. Daemon was a proud, competitive man, and besides, Harwin was more clumsy, strong, but clumsy.

"Well, I just don't want you to get hurt too badly."

"I'll take my chances. I want to crown you Queen of love and beauty."

"That's very sweet..." you saw him take your hand, pleased with himself. "But I wouldn't want you to."

"I'm not understanding anything."

Poor thing, you stroked his hand, big and rough but so manly and tender.

"It's a tournament in honour of Daemon and Rhaenyra. And Daemon will want to win to crown Rhaenyra. And honestly, she deserves to be crowned, even if Daemon doesn't deserve to win. You don't know how many times the Princess has cried on my shoulder for Daemon. She doesn't deserve that man either...but since she's got him, it would be fitting to give them a nice start to their marriage. Do you understand, my love?"

You watched as he processed the information, his sweet eyes looking into yours. And he nodded, smiling and stroking your hand back.

"All right...but I'm not going to make a fool of myself."

"Harwin..." you chided him.

"You deserve crowns too, and it is my duty to honour you. So I won't let them laugh at me or you. And I will fight as hard as the Prince fights." His tone was serious, but not strong or stern.

"I don't want a crown!"

"Then you shall have it!"

"You are disgustingly stubborn."

"You cannot prevent me from winning fairly. It is dishonourable."

"Harwin, please..." he got up to get into bed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to win you that crown." He pointed his finger at you and began to undress.

"Then I'll flush it down the toilet," you lied, crossing your arms.

You could see the smile creeping back on his face, and you couldn't hide it much longer either. And the 'discussion' went on until Harwin fell asleep.

The tournament was not long in coming. Of course, while you were putting on one of your best dresses, Harwin was putting on one of his best suits of armour. He sat obediently for you to put his long, curly hair up in a ponytail. You offered to be late for the tournament while you frolicked in bed, but he declined.

"We'll enjoy tonight, where I can see you happy and beautiful with your new crown. Only with your crown."

"That's if you come in one piece, my love."

Of course, he never took such remarks with offence. A man as great as he was did not doubt his manliness in the face of words, and his dear wife was the first with whom he could be vulnerable and who truly knew his ways. And to hurt Harwin's spirit it took more than that, and that was what you loved most about him, that he was so much more than 'the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms'. He gave you a tantalising kiss before parting from you, a kiss that could have gone further, but Harwin broke away, leaving you wanting more. As you sat down next to Rhaenyra, you could see him smile sympathetically at his squire, happy and nervous. The bride looked with his same emotions, her eyes searching energetically for Daemon, touching her necklace.

"Who are you going to bet on, Princess?" you asked jokingly.

"For my husband, just as you will bet on yours..." she replied, smiling.

"Oh, don't think I'm so convinced. Prince Daemon will do everything he can to crown you. He'd be willing to finish off the brute of Harwin to win a kiss from you."

You watched as Rhaenyra laughed, blushing. She reminded you of yourself when you were newly wed. A young lady, who travelled with her father to King's Landing to gain a place among the King's court. And of course, you were given the duty of marriage. The Princess and now Queen Alicent were kind, and kept you company during the exhausting courtships of the lords. Rhaenyra was only bent on marrying Daemon, Alicent was already married, but you couldn't find anyone you liked at all. Until the hunt in honour of Aegon. Ser Harwin Strong hadn't said a word to you since you arrived, and it was understandable since you were a girl in the shadow of a princess and liked to watch him from afar. When the whole court moved to spend three days hunting, the Strongs offered to take you and your father in the carriage, for yours had broken down in the middle of the road. And it was during those days that Harwin truly saw you. He gave up riding on his own horse to keep talking to you on the road, gave you his cloak at night when it was cool, and sat beside you at suppers, listening to your gossip while he told you what he had seen on the hunt. And though Harwin was a candidate to be the Princess's husband, he was quick to ask your father for your hand, but not before asking you first. Your betrothal was so simple and so happy that Rhaenyra had to hide her jealousy, but it was soon noticed and you and Harwin planned dinners with Ser Lyonel, where you convinced him that Daemon would be the best choice and conveyed it to the king. You triumphed.

The jousting began, and as expected, the final three were Daemon, Harwin and Criston. Your husband winked at you every time his opponent fell to the ground. And it was he who defeated Criston, making both you and Rhaenyra chuckle a bit too much. When it was his and Daemon's turn, they both approached the stand where you were standing. Daemon asked his wife for her favour, while Harwin asked for yours. You chose the most beautiful and simple ribbon, with small purple flowers and colourful dark green leaves. When you put it on Harwin, you looked into his eyes.

"I would wish you luck, my lord, but if you do the right thing, you will always come out on top." That was your last request.

And you watched as they both clung tightly to your horses. Difficult to overthrow, Daemon and Harwin were beginning to grow frustrated, as were you and Rhaenyra. And when Harwin broke Daemon's shield, it was all but settled for the knight to win, not the prince. Before they made the final turn, Harwin looked at you, without the smile, and you nodded for him to look at Rhaenyra. She was holding your hands, her face was one of disappointment as she saw her husband angry at the situation. And you saw how he himself struggled. On the last blow, Harwin again galloped with impetus, as did the Prince, and before he could strike the blow, the Prince was able to push him off his horse. It was harsh, and a resounding fall. Everyone held their breath a little before bursting into applause as Harwin removed his helmet in defeat. You clapped as you watched your husband, being lifted up by Daemon. They shook hands and then he reached for his squire. And from a distance he could see the smile on your face as Rhaenyra was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty by her husband. Then, he waited for you to arrive at his tent so that you would feel sorry for him.

"Are you all right?" You asked, genuinely dismayed.

"I think I need to wait in bed for a month and a half. In the company of my wife, naked if possible. The masters so indicate." He exaggerated a tired tone that made you laugh.

"You are perfectly fine, I see. Though you reek of sweat."

"A crown of flowers would have taken away this stench."

"Soap and water is also a good option."

And you walked towards the castle, but Harwin was not at your side, and when you turned you saw that he was limping. The sight made you tender, for he was so big, he made so much noise in that armour, and he walked like a little boy with that smile framed by a beard. You had to let him rest his arm on your shoulders.

"Come on, 'old-bones', we haven't got all day."

You smiled at him when he rolled his eyes at his nickname. Harwin didn't have that many years on you, you were always amused by the nickname, pointing out his very limited grey hair as if it was the beginning of the end, and watched as he proceeded to try to impress you with his talents. And you loved those displays, him picking you up, practising with his sword in front of you, or helping to fix things around the castle. In time, Harwin began to enjoy your "pity" for him when he fell asleep on your chest, or when you read aloud to him. When he was drowsy he always let you fill his face with little kisses. The maidens prepared a large bath for you, with refreshing water after the hot day, and the squire brought into the room the cloak, shield and crown with which you had wished Harwin luck.

You helped him take off his armour, one of your favourite hobbies, and your husband always enjoyed watching your concentration. He had bruises when you undressed him completely, and one that was sure to get worse on his abdomen, where Daemon had struck to get him to throw it off. He was sweaty, incredibly handsome, but his injuries worried you.

"Don't worry," he said, voice low and caressing your face, making you stare at him. "I'm fine."

"It's a good bump."

"That's what happens when you raise your arm too high, you find a weak spot."

You could tell by the smile. Harwin had done it on purpose, he'd let himself get hit. It made sense, he had the advantage, and he was too easy to beat even when Daemon had been hurt worse.

"You let him win..."

"No..." he lied. "I'm old, that's all."

He climbed into the tub by himself, sinking down to wet his head. Meanwhile, you stood outside, watching him, your brave knight. Grabbing an ointment, you sat beside the tub and carefully spread the cream over those bruises. You could feel Harwin's eyes following you. And when you reached the big one, the pain made him pull away.

"I'm sorry," you said, "I can't quite reach, turn around a bit."

"No," he replied. "Get in with me. You smell like sweat too."

"But I have to put the ointment on you."

"Put it on later. Take a bath with me."

At your refusal, Harwin splashed the water on you, soaking much of your dress and hair. So, wanting to kill him, you gasped and shed your clothes. Your husband couldn't take his eyes off you, and immediately made room for you.

"This bathtub isn't that big..." you said as you settled in.

"I know, and that's what I like the most."

You were in front of him. You had to pull your knees up to your chest to get in, and Harwin grabbed your foot and made you straighten your leg. When he kissed you on the sole, his beard tickled you.

"Harwin, stop!"

"I can't hear you, wife, you're too far away." And he tugged at the hand you'd thrown to pull your foot away from his lips, and pulled you down to lie in his lap. Your faces close and his hands resting on your waist. Then already Harwin let you clean him. With the washcloth and a bar of soap, he closed his eyes as you ran it gently over his armpits, over his shoulders, always leaving a path of caresses.

"It's a shame you didn't win, my lord..."

"More's my pity you didn't get a crown."

"You're obsessed with the crown," you joked. Harwin opened his eyes to focus on you. "Honestly, I don't need you to win tournaments or be a great fighter to prove anything. I like the humble, good man I have for a husband."

As you washed his face, Harwin moved his hand along the curve of your back.

"I just wanted to see you shine," he confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since you came to the palace, you've been in the Princess's shadow forever. And I only dared to speak to you when I could find you apart from her. You are more than a lady-in-waiting to Rhaenyra, and I feel that the life I give you does not take you away from that. I feel that...I need to bring you pride and honour. I need them to see you, as I see you."

"Oh, Harwin..." you threw yourself on his mouth, and you kissed each other so passionately that you felt like you could melt right there, on top of your husband, with his flowery scent and warm from sweat. And as you kissed, Harwin's hand caressed your thighs, drawing you even closer to him. When you broke apart, your smile was irrepressible.

"I adore you... I adore you for what you have done for Rhaenyra. And I adore you for thinking of me. And I love you, Harwin, I love you for being the gentle knight as sweet as you are stubborn."

You saw him blush, smiling. And you kept bathing him until all that was left to do was to wash his hair. Then you stood behind him, all that back holding your upperbody.

"I can't wait to be an old man so you have to bathe me all the time." You felt him relax with your massage.

"In a month you'll be fulfilling that dream, you little elder."

You heard his laughter as you removed the soap from his hair. And then all that was left to do was relax. With Harwin between your legs and his head on your chest, his hands caressed the hands resting on his chest and you stared into nothingness. Then you began to talk about your favourite subject.

"I saw Criston tripping before the joust began," Harwin said. "He thought no one saw him, but he saw me looking at him."

"And you laughed, didn't you?"

"And I laughed..." and Harwin burst into laughter again, laughing and making you laugh as well. "Well, though in fairness, I don't think there's anyone in the kingdom who could wear a crown of flowers better than Criston, he's a handsome mother fucker..."

"I don't agree. He's very handsome...but he doesn't deserve it."

Your arm reached for the small crown from before, Harwin looked over to see what you were doing. When you took the little crown, he thought he understood everything.

"True, you are a better candidate for..." when he went to take it from you to crown you, you pushed it away from him.

"No, my dear Harwin. I don't deserve it either..." you put on an exaggerated solemn tone. "The true king of love and beauty is the sweet knight Ser Harwin 'Breakbones' Strong."

And he let you put the crown on him, his hair wet and clean. You watched as he clasped his hands together and placed them tenderly near his cheeks, lifting one shoulder flirtatiously. He forced you to kiss his hand, which you did as you laughed. But his appreciation was shown when he plunged you back into one of those kisses that only he knew how to give you, the kiss he had promised before the joust began.

And you knew he was truly honoured because he spent the rest of the day with that wreath on, and took one of the flowers in his suit the next day. No one else could know even if they saw it on his shirt. But only you needed to know, because when you got close to his chest you could smell not just a flower, but the love and beauty it represented.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Look At Me, Princess (Harwin x Reader)

This was a really nice spin off since I wanted to write about Rhaenyras aunt and someone that Rhaenyra could have a close bond with also having Harwin as your love interest is always a plus

There’s one person princess (y/n) Targaryen loved more than her family and children and that was her dearest niece, Rhaenyra Targaryen who looked up to her aunt ever since she was a toddler, Rhaenyra had formed a bond with the youngest sister of Viserys like no other, mayhaps because (y/n) was only 10 when the princess was born so (y/n) plus understand the struggles she was going through better than anyone since they were still fresh in her mind.

No matter the reason Rhaenyra felt most comfortable in the presence of “the people's princess”, (y/n) was an interesting character, it seemed like she had the best features of both of her brothers, she was fair and optimistic like Viserys but also adventurous and outspoken like Daemon, both of her brothers spoiled her rotten, no harm would come to her if they had something to do with it, it only took for a simple mist of tears to well up in her eyes for Viserys to fill her hands with gifts and Daemon to roll heads.

“You look beautiful Rhaenyra”

“Thank you, I was going to say the same for you, I see you have not held back on the jewelry”

“It is my name-day, the tourney is held in my job honor, and as my dear brother says “it is an opportunity to gather an established suitor” so, in my opinion, it is just enough, besides, I was never known for my subtle taste”

Rhaenyra giggled at the answer of her aunt, (y/n) was one of the most luxurious women Rhaenyra has ever laid eyes upon, ever since she could remember her aunt was dressed in the finest of dresses with the most intricate patterns, and her neck was decorated by rubies and pearls as were her earlobes, she would bathe in goat milk and rub rose oil on her to keep her skin looking youthful.

Her dress was in Targaryen red with golden details sewn all over it, Rhaenyra wondered how long did it take to create this dress to be worn by the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms who remained unmarried, Viserys had begged her to marry but she refused any man that asked for her hand, all of them wanted to lay with a Targaryen, the sense of power excited them none would even spare her a look of it wasn’t for her name.

“I must thank the knights that decided to partake in this tourney held by my beloved brother and your king for my name day, I am honored to feel such warmth from you on this special day, I shall keep this brief since I believe no one came to listen to me but to watch the men in action, let the games begin”

Everyone clapped as (y/n) sat back down and winked at her niece who was smiling brightly, poor little thing had yet to adapt after the second wedding of her father, and to her best friend at that, Rhaenyra leaned on (y/n) more than ever and (y/n) was right there to offer a shoulder and an ear, she knew the pain of living without a mother very well.

“I ask the favor from the woman of the hour, princess (y/n) Targaryen, the heart of the realm”

(Y/n) had done her best to keep the peace within the small folk, but the starving masses had torn her heart open, she talked her brother's ear off to offering food and water in the flea bottom and paid for the orphanage to be fixed and in proper condition, that is where “the heart of the realm” name came from.

(Y/n) rose from her seat with a flower crown in hand and stopped in front of the stand, she leaned enough for the flower crown to slide down the spear of the strongest man the Seven Kingdoms could offer, Ser Harwin “Breakbones” Strong who waited patiently for the princess that was smiling as bright as the sun.

“I wish you good fortune and thank you for the kind words Ser Harwin”

“You honor me, princess”

He replied before he commanded his horse to the other side, (y/n) was supposed to walk away as well and sit back in her seat, surprisingly she remained still, her eyes following the Commander of the city watch until he charged at his opponent who to no one’s surprise loss against the knight dressed in blue armor.

(Y/n) smiled and clapped for him only for Ser Harwin to bow his head in gratitude, after that, she went back to sit next to Rhaenyra, the young niece had a playful smirk on her lips.

“Ser Harwin is a very handsome young man”

“Indeed he is”

“And Strong, who else would be better suited for a dragon?”

“You are rushing my dear, where is the fun in marrying Ser Harwin just because he asked for my favor? Things like this shine better with time”

-

“Princess (y/n) Targaryen with her brother Prince Daemon Targaryen”

(Y/n) and Daemon walked into the room side by side, no one knew where to focus, to the luxurious princess or the rogue prince who made his first appearance after his wedding was recently dissolved.

(Y/n) was the one to inform her brother about the feast, she was aware of the feelings Rhaenyra had developed for her older brother so she thought it would be a good gift to her niece.

“Congratulations my sweet Nyra, may the mother bless this wedlock with a plethora of children”

(Y/n) spoke before she got up the steps and hugged her niece, the kiss she placed on Rhaenyra's forehead reminded Daemon and Viserys of their mother Alyssa, even though (y/n) had never met her she would still mirror their late mother in so many aspects of her life.

“Thank you, aunt, mayhaps you are next”

“That is a possibility your father would adore”

“I wish for you to have a husband by your side is that so bad?”

“No brother I was just jesting, let us enjoy this night”

(Y/n) took her appointed seat next to her brother Daemon who sulked in his chair and stared daggers into anyone he laid eyes upon, (y/n) wondered what life would be like if she was Daemon or Viserys, she loved them both and would give her life for them but she had to recognize the privilege of being born a male, a prince at that, one had a target on his back for killing his wife and the other sacrificed his love for a babe that did not survive and is now married to a much younger lady.

Would she suffer the fate of Aemma as well? Or mayhaps marry someone she is not interested in out of duty like her niece? Her thoughts were interrupted by a young man dressed with the sigil of a lion bowed before her.

“Princess, my name is Gregory Lannister, brother of Jason Lannister”

“Pleasure to meet you, my lord, to what do I owe this introduction?”

“I was hoping you would accompany me for a dance”

“The princess will-“

“Be delighted, thank you, my lord”

She interrupted her brother who was ready to attack the young man. It was time for (y/n) to face the music, she is not getting any younger and as a princess, there was not much that she could do but marry, she had managed to slip through the cracks for so long though she could not always run away from it.

The Lannister lord seemed delighted and offered his hand for her to take, his touch was soft and gentle, he guided her to the middle of the crowd, and with a curtsy, they followed the music for the custom dance.

“How does it feel to see your niece be wed?”

“It is a wonderful day for my lovely Rhaenyra, lord Laenor will be a great king Consort for her”

“He is an honorable choice that is true, is that what marriage is for you as well”

“Wedlock is an oath given to the gods, to trust and to hold, it is a sacred act that I hope I will experience myself”

“I am certain you had your chance with multiple suitors would I be overstepping if I asked why have you chosen to stay a maiden?”

“As mentioned I believe marriage is sacred, call me insane for wanting to find a man that I enjoy being around and not just a man that appears to be a match for the realm”

As the two of them grew into a discussion (y/n) did not have the mind to notice a man that gawked at her like a hawk, Ser Harwin Strong had followed her with his gaze and had yet to pull away from her, his hands turned into fists as he saw the man’s eyes shifted down from her face and to her cleavage.

Gregory cared nothing for (y/n) nor her personality, it was all a mediocre act to get his hands at the pot of gold which was befitting behavior of a Lannister Lord.

“You are letting your true self show son”

“I am just guarding the princess”

“You can fool anyone but not me”

Harwin did not respond to his father, he had nothing to say that could prove to his father that he did not have a soft spot for the lady that was spinning around and her dress taking most of the space on the floor, she was perfect to him, a woman that anyone would be lucky to have so he couldn’t help but wonder why was she dancing with a man that was beneath her? He wasn’t clever nor strong nor did he have anything that could help his courting with her besides the Lannister sigil.

No one could have guessed what was coming next, a blood-curling scream went through everyone’s eardrums as the crowd became one mesh, in a blink of an eye Harwin lost sight of the princess, baffled he started shoving people out of the way in hopes to see her, knights were throwing commands as the people screamed and ran for their lives.

(Y/n) attempted to move out of the circle only to be met with someone’s back which caused her to fall back and hit her head on a piece of wooden furniture, the impact on her head was enough to bring her into a sense of lightheadedness, Gregory lifted her by her waist and pretty much carried her outside until they were secluded to a more private and dim lighted area, (y/n) blinked profusely to clear her foggy eyesight but to no avail, her legs felt weak as she had to support herself from Gregory.

“I can’t breathe”

She felt Gregory’s hands go up to the strings of her corset, she was about to thank him for loosening the tight piece of clothing until the corset started to become loose as to expose herself, thankfully she was quick enough to bring her hands up to her chest and keep it there, her mind tried to find an excuse as to Gregory being in shock and not knowing exactly what he was doing.

“My dress”

“It is alright (y/n) we are alone”

“No, my dress is untied”

“I’ll be quick”

(Y/n) finally met his eyes, the eyes that she could not recognize, dark and almost demonic, her hands were occupied with keeping her corset in place to shove him away as she was starting to get squeamish, her stomach turning as she fussed to get away from her.

All she felt was his weight leaving her but she did not count that he was keeping her up, (y/n) slid down and curled into a ball from fear of what was to come, it was at this point that she saw a man towering over Gregory and punching him repeatedly, a part of her felt relieved for the immediate justice of Gregory’s attempt to harm her, her other part trembled about whom it was and who could have seen them.

“Princess”

A voice as soft as silk reached her ears, Harwin strong had knelt to take a good look at her, make sure she was unharmed, he had run out to look for her only to find her in distress whilst the Lannister bastard wanted to defile her, (y/n) flinched when Harwin reached for her and although it hurt him he understood that she probably does not wish to be touched.

“Listen to me princess, in any minute people will start to pass by and if they find you like this they will not ask questions, they will just start whispering, we must take you away to your chambers, can you walk”

“I don’t think so”

“Can I lift you?”

“Please”

-

“Alyssa be careful”

Harwin heard (y/n) call for their eldest daughter as he entered the hall with a letter in his hand, the scene was heavenly in front of him, his beloved princess sitting on the couch with a fan in her hand to cool herself, her swollen belly was protruding from her dress, it was almost time for her to start her labor for their fourth child, their two older children, Alyssa and Alamea running around in mischievous nature chasing one another around and the third Arran was only two years old was sitting down next to his mother playing with his toys.

All of them had inherited their father's hair, dark brown curls, only little details telling of their Targaryen ancestors, Alyssa had her grandmother's eyes, Alamea had a few strings of blonde hair and little Arran had lavender hues, (y/n) never complained, she enjoyed the fact that she could see her lovely knight in their children.

“How are you feeling my dear?”

“I’m burning up but that’s nothing new”

Harwin sat next to her, contemplating how to go about this, his hand found her belly to caress it lovingly, the last thing he needed was to cause any complications with the news that he must share with her, he had done his best to shield his family from the outside world, brought them to harrenhal to maintain a peaceful life away from the menaces that lurked at court, his offspring should never be taint by the monstrosities that found a home in the red keep.

“A raven came from Dragonstone”

He simply informed as he passed the piece of paper to her, (y/n) who was clueless as to what it said grabbed it with excitement, wanting to read news of her family.

“My beloved aunt,

I write to you with great grief to announce to you that my father, your brother, Viserys has passed.

Unfortunately, this letter is not just to inform you over the kings passing, it is to ask for you and your family to come to my aid as I go against my brother Aegon who has usurped me and was crowned in front of the masses, claiming that he is the rightful heir due to his gender.

Please, I beg you for your love and guidance, in return I offer you the position of being the hand of the queen and your husband to be the commander of the queens guard, I need you by my side as you have always been the light of hope at my darkest of moments.

Love,

Rhae Rhae”

Tears welled up in her eyes as her hands trembled over what she was reading, her eldest brother was gone and before his body grew cold the Hightowers declared war on her Rhaenyra, Harwin took the princess in his arms as the tears escaped and sobs took over her body, he hated seeing her like this, he had done his best to keep her happy and now the pain of losing one of the few members of her immediate family engulfed her to such a degree that he saw just her younger self clinging on to her brother for dear life.

Even though (y/n) had created a family of her own, Viserys was someone she adored, her kindhearted brother, (y/n) dug her nails on top of Harwin back out of desperation as he was the one that she could always snatch upon and feel some level of safety, the man that always stood in front of her and took all the pain just so she can be out of harm's way, now that meant that he endured her nails piercing through his skin in an attempt to bring her some type of comfort.

“I must go to her”

“You cannot travel my love, what of our children?”

“You are right I suppose, I am sorry”

“Magdalena take the children elsewhere”

“I want to stay with momma”

Alyssa complained, (y/n) was in shambles and she had every right to be but Harwin wanted to spare them from witnessing such a tragic scene of their mother being miserable.

Once the children were out of sight (y/n) wiped away her tears and her eyes bounced from one thing to another since they refused to focus because her mind was scattered with thoughts that came all at once, a headache was surely soon to follow.

“Look at me, princess”

Harwin's voice was low and endearing, he pulled her out of her delirium the minute her eyes found his deep blue hues, oh those bewitching eyes that held a tremendous amount of admiration for his lady wife, his princess, Harwin took one deep breath through his nose and then out the mouth, (y/n) followed as Harwin wanted to slow down her heart and breathing, soothe her enough so they can plan together.

“Harrenhall shall declare for Rhaenyra, once I give birth we will ride for dragonstone”

“Alyssa is young she cannot go through a war”

“We can take them to Lys, we have friends there”

“If you become the queens' hand and I go as a commander it means we risk our lives”

“I cannot leave her”

“Harrenhall will declare for Rhaenyra, we will send an army to her and bend the knee to her, I give you my word for that, bullet us enjoy a few days of peace until we decide.”

“Fine but I will send a raven to her”

“I love you, princess”

“I love you more, Ser Harwin break bones”

Harwin leaned to place a gentle kiss on his wife's lips, he feared for what would come next, if she dies there was no reason for him to keep on living, but if he refused her she would end up despising him or try to run away, he had no choice but to bargain with her.

The next morrow Rhaenyra received a raven from Harrenhall, she put everything to a halt in order to read what her aunt was writing, she knew she was asking for too much and the princess that was days away from starting her labours had every right to refuse her or remain cordial.

“My Rhae Rhae,

I grieve for my brother, I will forever hold the moments I had with him near my heart, and with utmost love, I also know he is probably cursing at his son from the other side over this treacherous crime.

I also of you to understand that I wish to stay at Harrenhall until I give birth, in a few morrows time my children will go to Lys for sanctuary, I want them away from any type of war.

My husband and I will be by your side, as we only recognize the firstborn daughter Rhaenyra Targaryen as the true heir to the iron throne.

My flesh and blood, my strong niece, you will have your throne and crown.

I love you

(Y/n)”

Requests are open!

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Could you write about Harwin strong being married to Rhaenyra's sister and they are in Drifmark and is their son who attacked Aemond to protect his little brother so when they are asking about what happens they stand up for him and at the end is the reader who stops Alicent from attacking her son?

(Gif not mine but oh, be still my beating heart)

Title: Strong Bonds

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Female!Targaryen Reader

Word Count: 7,610

Warnings: Grief, incest, blood, violence, childbirth, etc.

A/N: FINALLY A HARWIN STRONG REQUEST! For context, Y/n will be a year younger than Rhaenyra, and speaking of which, Rhaenyra will still be married to Laenor and their sons are all legitimate with mixed skin, silver hair, and purple eyes.

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

"Are you sure it's safe for you to be traveling at this extent?"

Y/n peered up from absentmindedly playing with her sleeping son's dark hair, her own silver locks falling over her eyes as she does so. The carriage rocks as it slowly made its way down a dirt road outside, swaying the Targaryen princess and her family in a calming moment of their chaotic lives. The son whose head rested in her lap, Osmund, stirred when the carriage hit a bump in the road but otherwise kept on dreaming. Y/n returned to petting his hair to keep him that way.

Her husband, Harwin Strong, closely watches her from across the carriage, their youngest son, Baelor, also slept but preferred his father's strong arms over his mother's small lap. No one could blame the five-year-old child since Princess Y/n's lap had shrunk over the months due to her ever-growing stomach, now barely giving ten-year-old Osmund room to sleep in peace.

She raises a sharp eyebrow at her husband, "Would you rather have me fly Qyraxes to Driftmark?"

"Gods, woman, no of course not," Harwin shakes his head, but couldn't help the small grin he bore, "You act like I want to be a widower. What I meant to say was that we didn't have to leave if it would be safer for you."

"This is my cousin's funeral, my love," Y/n spoke sadly, staring out the window while thinking of Laena, "Everyone is going to be there and we, alongside the rest of my father's family, are expected to be there. Besides... I have not seen or heard from Rhaenyra since she left for Dragonstone. I need to see her again."

"Your sister could easily fly back to King's Landing to see you."

A scowl forms on the princess' beautiful face, "Not when there are leeches always lurking about in the Red Keep."

She doesn't speak plainly, but the message was clear. Y/n always prided herself in acting similar to her uncle, Daemon, over her father, Viserys. Much like Daemon, Y/n always saw Otto Hightower as a leech, sucking the blood from the King's back. His daughter is no different. Queen Alicent is a thorn in Y/n's side. Like repeating history, the two women exchange poisoned words with each other, much like how Otto and Daemon once did. It brought Y/n comfort to learn that Lord Otto was dismissed and sent back to Oldtown, with her good father, Lord Lyonel, taking his place as the new Hand of the King, but the Queen still remained. Y/n may not have been friends with Alicent like Rhaenyra once was, but their personalities clashed and therefore formed a rivalry that matched the feud between Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Alicent's most recent jab was one spoken under her breath, but for the entire Small Council to hear. She had made a comment that only true Targaryens have silver hair, and although she never spoke plainly, everyone knew she was singling out Y/n and Harwin's black-haired children. Lord Lyonel Strong looked appalled and disgusted in defense of his son, and Viserys wanted to come to his youngest daughter's defense, but Y/n had always been able to hold her own. Her sharp tongue shuts the accusation down quickly when she pointed out that Alicent's sons and daughter must not be true Targaryens then since they're half Hightower and were just lucky enough to bear silver hair.

Y/n didn't like King's Landing any more than Rhaenyra because of obvious reasons, but unlike Rhaenyra, the younger sister didn't really have a choice in leaving when both she and her husband were part of her father's court. As much as Y/n would love to raise her children alongside her sister in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra had been named the princess of said keep and therefore she had every right to live there. Y/n, being the younger daughter of Viserys and Aemma, had no such claim and unfortunately had no rights apart from those she earned when marrying her now husband.

Not to say she was complaining, however, since she loved Harwin with a burning passion and was happy to bear his sons and heirs of Harrenhal. Y/n had never been happier, and made peace with the fact that she would never have claims to anything like Rhaenyra did as long as she wasn't Viserys' heir. Y/n was content in just being a Targaryen princess, a dragon rider, a wife, and most proudly a mother. Nothing more.

Harwin relents after a fashion of heavy, grieving silence, adjusting his younger boy's head to rest more comfortably on his chest, "Did the maesters say you'll be safe to travel?"

"... No," she flashed a shy grin as if she had been caught stealing sweets, "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Harwin huffs out a small, exhausted laugh, a fond tone in his voice, "Have you noticed how much I've aged since I married the trickster that you are?"

"I've never tricked you into anything," Y/n tilts her head and smiles fondly back at him, "If anything, you're the one who's been tricking me. Only you could persuade me from causing a little chaos."

"Then I should have tried making my case back at King's Landing before we even packed for Driftmark."

"I'm pregnant, my love, not dying," Y/n decides to change the subject upon looking out the window and seeing Driftmark's rooftops in the distance, "I hope Daemon makes an appearance. He tends to act more of a stranger than usual when grieving."

~~~~~~~~~

Daemon is not there to greet his family when they arrive, but Rhaenyra is, along with her husband, Laenor, and their children, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

The royal family and their court all spill out of their line of carriages, King Viserys being the first to greet his oldest daughter with a hug and a kiss before greeting Laenor with his condolences. Alicent and her children dutifully say their grievances, but remain stiff during the whole exchange. Harwin emerges from his carriage, helping his sons out and then his heavily pregnant wife. Y/n's feet barely touched the ground before Rhaenyra embraced her.

"You look stunning," the older sister comments while holding Y/n's face in her hands, "Have the maesters determined the gender of the child?"

"They think it's a girl," Y/n beamed, glancing over at her husband, "And I think he is far more excited than I."

"Marvelous. You must tell me what names you have planned out over tea," Rhaenyra links her arm with Y/n as they began to walk.

"How is Joffrey?"

"Restless, I'm afraid. I left him at home with the wet nurse so that I may gain some sleep out of all of this. You know, if you're truly having a daughter, perhaps we might get to wed our children after all."

"Wouldn't that be lovely? We would get to spend our elder years together, watching our children and grandchildren rule all of the strong houses of the Seven Kingdoms. And let's not forget the dragons they would all ride."

The beautiful vision fades when the Lord and Lady of Driftmark finally come out to greet their guests. Rhaena and Baela are with them and are momentarily distracted from their grief in exchange for fawning over Y/n's rounded belly. Y/n gladly answered their questions if it meant they could briefly forget about their mother's passing. She also secretly enjoyed the girls' company, excited with the idea of possibly having her own girl soon. Jace and Luke trail behind them, but try to act as though they were not interested. Y/n included her nephews in the conversation, wanting them to bond with Laena's daughters. They were family after all, and family shouldn't feel like strangers to one another.

The funeral itself is brought down to the cliffsides where Laena's coffin is to be thrown into the sea. Vaemond Velaryon said a wonderful eulogy about his family's house and finally, the heavy coffin was thrown from the cliffs' edge, sinking to the very bottom of the deep. No one ever said a word until they walked back up to the keep in order to help themselves to wine and food. Plenty of people took this time to give their condolences to the family of the dead, and Corlys and Rhaenys bravely took in their guests despite mourning for the loss of their child. Laenor mysteriously vanishes, but no one says a word, not even when Corlys angrily sent Ser Qarl Correy to fetch him. Everyone was tight-lipped, the tension filling the air with the threat to break. Who were meant to be family members barely knew what to do with each other.

Speaking of, Y/n finally spotted Daemon lingering on the outskirts of the growing crowd and briefly left the children with Harwin and Rhaenyra so that she may give her condolences, "Uncle. My sincerest apologies for you and your daughters."

Daemon accepts the kiss on his cheek but keeps his hands folded in front of him, leaning against the stone balcony overlooking the sea. His eyes travel over his niece's face before traveling down to her swollen belly, smiling slightly as he spoke in Valyrian, "Not as sorry as I am for you to make such a harrowing journey in your predicament. My own wife was dying from childbirth before she took matters into her own hands. One could only wonder if the difficult labor was the consequence of our family traveling so often."

"You can't blame yourself for what's happened," Y/n rests a hand on her uncle's shoulder, reverting to her mother tongue, "Women die of childbirth every day, our mothers were no exception. Laena was strong and determined to die a dragonrider's death, which she succeeded."

Daemon briefly looks down and then looks off to the side. Y/n follows his gaze and spots her father across the yard, eyeing the two of them before turning away and speaking with Corlys Velaryon. Lyonel Strong is standing beside the King, with young Baelor weaving between his two grandfathers, unbothered. Y/n looks back at her uncle and whispers in his ear in the common tongue, "Speak with him. He misses you."

She pulls away and gives Daemon his space, carefully hobbling over to her usual social circles. Harwin has a chair waiting for her as their friends and family are gathered around it. Harwin holds Y/n's hand to steady her as she sits, gratefully taking a drink from a servant girl. Osmund approached his mother once she was settled and she immediately grabs his hand with an encouraging smile.

"Why don't you go and see to your cousins, hm?" Y/n gently squeezed her son's smaller hand, her thumb tracing shapes in his skin, "They've lost their mother. They could use a kind word."

Osmund looked as though he was ready to pout and whine until he glanced up at his father. One stern look from Harwin and the little lord sighs and nods obediently, leaning over and kissing his mother's cheek before walking away to find Rhaena and Baela.

Rhaenyra watches her nephew walk off, a cup of wine in her hands, "Is he ill-tempered?"

"Not usually. It's been a long journey to Driftmark and he was sad he couldn't fly here. It's also the first time he's ever experienced loss. I don't think he knows how to properly react yet," Y/n absently rubs her stomach, playfully smiling up at her husband, "He does get his might from his father though."

"As one could expect from the son of Ser Breakbones," Rhaenyra chimes in with amusement as she now watches her sister's movements, "So for names, have you decided on any?"

"A few," Harwin answered from his stance behind his wife's chair, "If the maesters were mistaken and it is a boy, we want to name him Viserys," Rhaenyra smiles as he continued, "If it's a girl... we're still deciding on just one."

"We've been going back and forth," Y/n sighs, exhausted by the memory alone, "Alysanne, Alyssa, Nymeria, Visenya and... and Aemma."

Rhaenyra pauses mid-sip, slowly pulling the goblet away from her lips when she found she couldn't swallow, eyes blinking rapidly as she wordlessly gripped Y/n's shoulder. Neither sister said a word, but they understood each other all the same. Rhaenyra pardons herself, deciding she needed fresh air away from the crowds. Once she caught sight of Daemon leaving the gathering, she makes up her mind and sends her sons to bed before she, too, disappeared from the public eye.

Y/n watched her sister leave with her uncle and chose to ignore it, smiling and acknowledging the King when he slowly made his way to her after bidding the Queen goodnight.

"My child," Viserys took his daughter's hand and kissed it, "I'm retiring for the night. Do try and get some rest before the return journey."

"Yes, Father. If it is my king's wish."

Viserys smiles and nods to Harwin before exiting. Eventually, Princess Rhaenys walks up to the couple after consoling her granddaughters, and Harwin offers her a seat beside Y/n. Rhaenys accepts and leans close to her distant cousin while overlooking the crowd.

"I had hoped for your baby to be born by the time this gathering happened," the elder woman admits, "I had hoped new life would've outshined the loss of an older one."

"Laena was still young," Y/n held onto Rhaenys' arm, "And strong-willed. I would rather have people remember her life today instead of celebrating the birth of my child. Laena deserves that. I'm so... I'm so sorry, Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaenys only nods, unable to allow herself tears in a public setting, keeping her eyes fixed on Y/n's hand on her arm for a focus point, "No parent should outlive their child."

"And yet, we all wish for our mothers to be with us for the rest of our lives," Y/n looks off, heart-clenching, "I wish my mother got to grow old. I wish she got to meet her grandchildren and die fat and happy... But I wouldn't wish that for myself if it meant your granddaughters got to have their mother back. I wouldn't wish for Rhaena and Baela to go through the same loss I went through when I was their age. I wouldn't wish that for my sons or my nephews."

Rhaenys stands, feeling the emotions threatening to spill from her eyes and she couldn't bear to cause a scene. She squeezes Y/n's shoulder, nodding in thanks when the words couldn't come out, and then she left. A few hours pass and then both Harwin and Y/n round up their boys and bring them to their beds. Once their children are asleep, the parents turn in for the night as well, hearts heavy and exhausted.

Harwin had been quiet during most of the interactions at the gathering, but his thoughts were loud in his actions. While helping his wife undress, he couldn't help but kiss her bare shoulder and let his hands linger around her stomach, storms brewing in his eyes, "Years ago, I couldn't understand why your father was so... broken after the loss of your mother and brother. But now... as your husband and father to our boys... I can't even fathom what I would do if that were you in your mother's place."

Y/n quietly hushes Harwin as she turned to face him, letting her fingers graze over his beard, "It happens to women all the time, my love. It cannot be helped. You can't fight your way out of that. My mother used to say that a woman's battlefield is the birthing bed, and unfortunately, it's not a battle you can fight for me."

Harwin nods despite the look of defeat in his eyes. He had always been a man of action, able to protect those he loves with his might. However, Ser Breakbones always felt helpless whenever his wife goes through pregnancy. He felt useless and the only thing he could do was continue to be a husband and father, but not a soldier. Up until now, his family didn't need him to be a soldier.

The two of them go to bed, held in each others' arms as the moon moves slowly overhead and commanding the unforgivable waves to crash against the rocky cliffs outside the keep. It was soothing to listen to as sleep overtook the tired pair, more soothing than the sounds of King's Landing at night. It was easy to drift into dreams when a beautiful place such as Driftmark was so peaceful and quiet.

That is until a frantic knock is heard pounding on their bedroom door hours later, rudely awakening Harwin and Y/n from their slumber. Harwin crawls out of bed and walks to the door, "Who is it?"

"Harrold Westerling, Ser Harwin."

Y/n sits up in bed, alarmed as both she and Harwin exchange a worried expression. Harwin helps her stand up and throw a dark red robe over her nightgown before they beckon the Commander of the Kingsguard inside. The old man throws the heavy door open, straightening his posture and bowing in Y/n's presence as she addressed him.

"Ser Harrold, what seems to be the matter?"

"Forgive me for the late hour, Princess," Harrold appeared out of breath and possibly even horrified, further worrying the Strongs, "But there has been an accident and your sons are waiting for you in the Great Hall."

Neither of them questions it, both parents racing out of the room with Ser Harrold closely following them. They weave through the hallways of the dark keep, barely seeing a soul awake until they burst into the doors leading into the Great Hall.

Most of the souls that were once sleeping under the roof of the keep were all gathered in this one room, the lights of torches and the blazing fireplaces dancing over everyone's grave faces. Y/n first spots silver hair and finds Rhaenyra and Daemon, standing together off to the side and holding onto Osmund and Baelor. Both Y/n and Harwin run to their sons and gather the boys in their arms, worry filling their voices as they question why both of them had blood on their little faces.

"Ozzy, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Are you hurt? Let me see it, son."

"Why is your nose bleeding?"

"Tell us what happened, Bae."

Poor little Baelor was crying too hard to get a word out, clinging onto his mother's skirts like a lifeline even as his father was kneeling beside him and examining the bloodied and bruised knuckles on his tiny left hand. Osmund looked angry and defiant, a cut cracked over the bridge of his nose and bleeding along with his flaring nostrils as his mother's hands trail over his injured face. Finally looking around at the rest of the crowd, Y/n noticed Viserys and Alicent on the other side of the room, the Queen kneeling beside the maester as he tended to Young Aemond, the prince sitting beside the fireplace with half of his face stitched up. Rhaena and Baela were also present and bleeding from their faces, hugging either side of their Grandmother Rhaenys' waist and Corlys stands protectively in front of them. A few faces were missing from this picture, such as Laenor and his sons, but Rhaenyra doesn't acknowledge this as she stands close to her sister and answers her questions.

"The children were fighting each other. A knife was drawn--"

"Your son took my son's eye!" Alicent proclaimed hysterically, unshed tears in her manic eyes as she stood up and stepped toward the center of the room.

Y/n's eyes widen and looked down at her oldest child, "Ozzy?"

"Aemond stole and claimed Vhagar," Osmund explained, "He said horrible things about Aunt Laena when we all confronted him."

"She attacked me!" Aemond snarled as he pointed at Baela, thus starting a chain of children arguing over each other.

"He attacked Baela!"

"You insulted our mother!"

"He broke Ozzy's nose!"

"He stole my dragon!"

"He could've killed me!"

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent roared.

"He was only defending himself!"

"He could've killed Baelor!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Silence!" Viserys demanded, slamming his cane down against the cobblestone floor, "I am your king and I will have the truth of what happened! Who drew the blade?!"

"It was mine," Osmund admits, hanging his head when all eyes turned to him, "I drew it when I thought Aemond was going to kill Bae."

"He wouldn't stop hitting me," Baelor whimpered into his mother's swollen belly, thus shattering Y/n's heart and angering Harwin's as he stood, placing himself between the royal family and his own with a stern glare.

"Let me see the knife."

Ser Harrold brought the weapon forward as evidence but wasn't stupid enough to just hand it over to Harwin. Ser Breakbones noticed the knife and nodded, looking back at Princess Y/n, "It's the one I gave him."

"But Osmund didn't cut Aemond!" Baela yelled to her cousin's defense, "It was--"

Her voice dies once she noticed something in Osmund's eyes and Rhaena elbowed her. Y/n caught this exchange and gently pinched her older boy's chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Osmund Strong. Did you or did you not attack Prince Aemond with a knife?"

Osmund's throat bobbed nervously, eyes trying to focus on anything other than his mother's gaze. Y/n found this bizarre, considering that he had been honest with her until now. Then, realization began to dawn on the princess as she slowly looked down onto a different child, not Osmund. All eyes follow her gaze until they all land on Little Baelor. Y/n's other hand ran through her baby boy's hair.

"Bae... was it you?"

Baelor continued to sob, shaking from head to toe, "Aemond grabbed a rock! He was gonna hurt Ozzy!"

"I lost the knife," Osmund finally admitted, trying to keep everyone's attention away from his little brother, "And I got pushed to the ground, but it wasn't Baelor's fault! He took the knife to protect me!"

Alicent scowled in disgust, "And so you cut Aemond's face--"

"Your son was hitting my baby boy!" Y/n screamed back, beyond all of the Queen's slander.

"Seven Hells, Your Grace, he's only five years old!" Harwin came to his family's defense.

"And yet he's capable of spilling my son's blood!"

"Is this what you condone, my Queen?" Y/n's voice drops, a clear tone of challenge, "To have your son, a prince, attack little girls when they defend their mother's name?"

"Your sons attacked mine!"

"To defend their cousins," Y/n reminds her and the rest of those in the room, "Surely you wouldn't raise your son to believe he could do whatever he wanted just because he's royalty. Surely, the good Queen herself wouldn't teach her children to mistreat women or smash a little boy's head in with a rock."

Alicent is momentarily struck by the mockery, quickly recovering with a small scoff, her top lip twitching, "Are you questioning how I parent my children, Princess?"

"I am not questioning your parenting, Your Grace. I'm denying its existence."

Daemon grins proudly at his niece as the room is filled with gasps of dismay, clearly being the only one amused by Y/n's retort. Alicent's face crumbled as though someone had just smacked her in the face. With the tension straining, Harwin stood closer to his wife and children, his arm hovering over Y/n's back as Viserys clicked his cane upon the floor.

"Enough, Y/n. Trading insults won't change what happened. Aemond, tell me the truth, boy," the King slowly limps over to the bloodied prince, "Did you hit Lady Baela?"

Aemond looked as though he had been caught red-handed, pale, and stubborn. Slowly, he grits out his answer, "Yes. After she hit me."

"Liar!"

"Silence!" Viserys roared before glaring back down at his son, "Aemond, did you grab a rock?"

"To defend myself!"

"I was already on the ground, you idiot!" Osmund snapped, spitting out blood and saliva.

"Osmund!" Y/n reprimands her son, tightly holding his shoulder as Harwin reverts his gaze onto the boy.

"Hold your tongue, son."

"But no one was attacking him by then! We were all on the ground!"

"It's true!"

"Silence!" Viserys slammed his cane again.

"This was clearly just an act of self-defense, Your Grace," Y/n bravely continued her defense of her children, against her father's order.

"All of this... over an insult," Alicent huffs out a breath of disbelief with her eyes rimmed with tears, "My son has lost an eye."

Viserys, distressed, tired, and angry, nearly threw his arms around like a child having a tantrum, "This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!"

The whole room froze, shocked with disbelief. Alicent appeared appalled as her husband slowly limped past her towards the door. Y/n witnessed something snap within the Hightower woman as she spoke, "That is insufficient."

Viserys slowly turns around to face her as the Queen continued, "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken."

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid," the sentence alone sent a chill down Y/n's back, eyes dancing between her father and stepmother. Viserys stared at his wife in disbelief as the Queen strongly proclaimed, "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Murmurs and gasps of horror filled the room; Harwin and Y/n's grip on their sons tighten protectively. Viserys tried to calm Alicent, wanting to defuse the situation, "My dear wife--"

"He is your son, Viserys," Alicent cried, the tears finally spilling, "Your blood."

"Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment."

Silence fell again and Viserys thought it was over. He turns to leave just as his wife spoke again, her tear-stained face straightening up as her eyes turn to another man in the room, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Baelor Strong."

Criston Cole's eyes scan the room as Baelor begins to step back away from the crowd and from his parents, distraught and terrified as he spoke in his small, innocent voice, "Mother!"

"Alicent..." Viserys warned.

"He can choose which eye to keep. A privilege he did not grant my son!" Alicent snapped back while glaring down at the offending family.

"You will do no such thing." Y/n sternly stated, willing her voice not to shake in fear, but to be as powerful as the Queen's own demand.

"Stay your hand!" Viserys snaps to Ser Criston, to which Alicent pushes back.

"No, you are sworn to me!"

Ser Criston feels the eyes of Ser Harrold on him and finds his words, avoiding Alicent's gaze, "As your protector, my Queen."

Alicent reared back in betrayal, barely flinching as Viserys stepped up to her in challenge, "Alicent. This matter... is finished. Do you understand?"

She scans his face, unable to form a reply as he spins around and tries to meet the gaze of everyone else in the room, "And let it be known! No more fighting shall be done within the blood of my own family."

Y/n relaxed, her voice dropping its firm hold as she gently addressed the King, "Thank you, Father."

Both she and Harwin turn back to their sons, the father beckoning the boys to follow him as he tried leading his family away. The boys go to follow Harwin, still shaking in fear, while Y/n takes her time to follow, her hand gingerly caressing her stomach.

Viserys takes one more look at Alicent before turning back towards the door. He doesn't feel alarmed at the sound of her feet quickly following him, but it's not until he felt the empty space of his Valyrian dagger at his belt did his heart suddenly sink to his stomach.

Ser Harrold is the first to react, stepping towards the King, "Your Grace-!"

"Alicent!" Viserys spins back around, watching his wife's auburn hair disappear into the crowd with his dagger in hand.

Harrold sprints forward, shouting commands to his guards without turning back, "Stay with the King!"

"Hold your approach!" Criston Cole demands against his commander's wishes.

Others began to scream and shout a warning to others, pulling away and giving Alicent a wide berth with her newly acquired weapon. Y/n felt the hairs on the back of her neck before she heard the shouts of the Kingsguard along with her father's voice shouting Alicent's name. Spinning around, Y/n is met with a vengeful queen, Alicent screaming as she brought the raised dagger down on the princess.

Harwin spun around as the chaos began to rise, eyes widening as he immediately takes a large step forward, "Y/n, LOOK OUT!"

Y/n's arm rises and she's able to catch the arm Alicent held the blade in, trying to push the other woman away but they had both taken hold of each other's arms, pushing and pulling against each other, grunting under the weight of the force.

Harwin jolts forward in order to interfere, heart racing in fear and rage. Lord Lyonel steps in front of his son, however, forcing Harwin back just as the blade came down and Y/n had caught it, "No, son! Do not incriminate yourself!"

"Y/n!" Harwin yelled, struggling against his father. He was definitely strong enough to push Lyonel away, easily, hadn't two Kingsguard stepped forward and held onto Ser Breakbones.

It was pure chaos. Kingsguard held swords out to those who dared try to come to Y/n's aid, conflicted with their duties but wanting to protect their Queen if it meant letting her pursue the princess. Ser Harrold was easily just as conflicted, not knowing who he should order his men to protect as he tried pushing through the crowd. He makes it to the two women, but with his mind not yet made up, he instead circles them and pushes lords, ladies, and other soldiers back if they tried to step forward.

Harrold sees someone rushing forward and holds his arm out to them, "Do not, Ser Criston!"

"Alicent!" Viserys roared, but couldn't move much as he stumbled with his cane.

Baelor screams in terror as everyone who formed a circle around his mother and Alicent pushed him back as they grant the women space. Harrold tried yelling over the chaos as others also screamed in fear and protest, all trying to outscream the other.

"Do not, Ser Criston!"

Criston Cole, fierce and determined, tries getting into the circle, perhaps wanting to perform his duty and protect his queen. He pushes people away to get to Alicent and Y/n, but Daemon suddenly steps forward and is able to stop the knight in his tracks, keeping him in place as the two men glared at one another until two other Kingsguard took Criston by the arms.

"Alicent!"

"No!" Harwin shouts, desperately struggling against his bonds and giving the Kingsguard a workout in restraining him.

Rhaenys keeps her granddaughters behind her while she made a grab for Osmund and Baelor, pulling the boys to her body while Corlys shields them all behind him. Rhaenyra is left open and tries to make it to her sister, but Ser Harrold grabs her gently and keeps her back while simultaneously trying to get a hold of his men, "Stay your hand, Cole!"

Rhaenyra struggles against Ser Harrold's hold on her, shouting over at the Queen, "You've gone too far, Alicent!"

"I?" Alicent questions in distress, still fighting for control against Y/n while speaking between the two sisters, distraught and unhinged, "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you and your sister flout all to do as you please!"

"Alicent, let her go!" Viserys demanded from outside the circle.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent's tears continued to fall down her face as her eyes search Y/n's while she screamed, "It's trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent," Rhaenyra demanded.

Alicent desperately tried to breathe, panting under Y/n's strength and her own despair, "And now you take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Y/n grunts, a jolt of pain running through her as she desperately tried to keep the point of the blade from her own eye, the flames of the fireplace dancing over the steel and her eyes, "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness."

Her voice lowers, glare dead set on Alicent's face, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent pushes all her body weight and any strength she had left into pulling her arm out of Y/n's hold, grunting in rage as she freed the blade and made a swipe at the princess. Shock settles the room, Alicent stepping away to observe her handiwork, only for her eyes to immediately widen once she finally settled on what she had done.

Y/n had taken several steps away, the pain not entirely making itself aware until she heard gasps from all around. Corlys had caught her by the shoulders to steady the princess, noticing the way she was unconsciously clutching her arm. Both of them look down at the offending arm, noticing the blood soaking through Y/n's dress sleeve and spilling through her fingers. The blood droplets splatter onto the floor as Viserys stands beside Alicent, watching in horror as his little girl bleeds because of a wound his own wife inflicted. In her shock, Alicent's grip on the dagger loosens and the blade clatters to the floor, paying no mind to it as all she could do was stare at the cut in Y/n's arm.

Harwin had paused in terror before finally realizing that Y/n was still standing and breathing, the blade now out of danger. Shock draining from him, he pushes the Kingsguard off of him, the two soldiers too stunned to react and let go of him. Harwin pushes past his father and rushes to his wife, gathering her up in his arms and holding onto her wrist so that Corlys could properly inspect the wound from the other side of her. Y/n doesn't speak or react to her husband's hold on her, too stunned to do anything but stand and stare, leaning into Harwin for support. Both Osmund and Baelor break away from Rhaenys and run to their parents, holding onto their mother for dear life. With Criston Cole backing off, Daemon slowly walks forward until he is at Harwin's side, his hand on one of Osmund's shoulders. Rhaenyra pushes Ser Harrold away from her and also joins the Strong family along with Daemon and Corlys, the princess stepping in front of her sister and inspecting Y/n's face and then her wound. Watching as the blood continued to flow, Rhaenyra's posture slowly straightened, the rage of a dragon and a protective older sister taking hold. Unable to calm her anger, Rhaenyra breathes harshly through her nose and spun back around, glaring daggers at Alicent.

"You dare attack my sister!"

The room felt cold, despite the fire blazing hot beside the opposing families. Alicent couldn't bear to look Rhaenyra in the eye, so the princess moves her gaze onto her father, "Your Grace, I beg of you to open your eyes. Your wife just attacked one of your daughters born of our mother and of true Valyrian blood. She meant to bring harm to the princess and her unborn child."

Viserys eyes move to watch Y/n and her family tend to her, sadness and longing evident on his face as Rhaenyra bravely continued, "I am your heir, Your Grace," Viserys looks back to his eldest child, "But should anything happen to me, Y/n would take my place. Therefore, this attack on my sister is a treasonous act against the crown and your bloodline! If you are the honorable king that holds those who commit treason accountable... then no exception can be made for anyone of any station if you value your family and inspiring your loyal subjects."

Y/n slowly begins to come back to her senses, feeling the warm blood run down her arm and another warm liquid run down her legs. She pales as she tried focusing on the sound of Viserys' voice, trying not to panic, "It was a foolish action, Rhaenyra. But even you, as a mother, understand what it's like to protect your children. Alicent was only trying to avenge hers."

"By what? Killing my sister?" Rhaenyra's voice broke, eyes slowly starting to mist, "Carving out the child she carries?" Viserys flinched at that, "What happened to Prince Aemond's eye was a tragic accident. But this... this was intentional. Queen Alicent intended on spilling blood."

Rhaenyra hears a small cry of a kitten behind her, but upon spinning back around, she only saw Y/n clutching her stomach and slowly bending over, soft cries escaping her lips, and the men surrounding her bent down to the princess in confusion. Rhaenyra's eyes widen when she noticed a clear puddle beneath Y/n's skirts slowly pooling against the cobblestone to mix with the blood. Rhaenyra rushes towards her sister, forgetting Viserys and Alicent.

"Y/n?" Harwin's stomach dropped as the wheels began to turn in his head, eyes widening in realization.

"Mother? What's wrong?" Osmund asked innocently, holding onto his little brother.

"She's started her labors," Rhaenyra explains while letting her sister grip her arms tightly, "I wouldn't be surprised if the harrowing events of tonight spurred this on."

Daemon stood back from the group aiding Y/n, keeping a hand on his sword and an eye on anyone who may take this opportunity to pursue his family in a time of vulnerability. He stands guard while Rhaenyra and Harwin frantically help Y/n stand straight again, holding onto both of her arms. They wordlessly follow Corlys as he leads them out of the room and down the hall, back to Y/n and Harwin's chambers. Rhaenys thought it best to take Rhaena and Baela to Jacaerys and Lucerys' quarters where they were no doubt still sleeping through all of this. The older princess beckons the Strong boys to follow so that she might keep an eye on all of the children, unconsciously -or perhaps not- leaving the royal children out. When neither of Y/n and Harwin's sons moves, Daemon takes them both by the shoulder and directs them to follow Rhaenys, the Rogue Prince becoming a protective shadow for the children as Rhaenys whisks them away.

Corlys opens the doors to Harwin and Y/n's chamber and the Targaryen princess is brought inside, the Sea Snake calling for the maester along with the midwives who had traveled with the royal company. Rhaenyra and Harwin help Y/n get comfortable as another wave of pain takes over, the hair near her face beginning to stick to her skin as she tried taking deep breaths, exhaling shakily.

"I will stay with her, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra vowed while dabbing a cool cloth over her sister's forehead, "You may go."

"I'm staying here," Harwin states confidently.

Y/n quickly grabs his hand through a contraction, squeezing hard as she pushes out words, "No no no, you need to go stay with the boys. We can't trust anyone with our sons for as long as we stay here."

"Y/n--"

"Alicent just threatened to pluck out Baelor's eye and attacked me," Harwin tried not to look, but clearly there was still blood seeping out of the cut on Y/n's arm. Y/n appeared to ignore this, trying to catch her breath, "I don't want my sons left alone for even a second until we leave. Harwin, please, go protect the boys. There's nothing you can do for me now."

Dutifully, he nods, standing over his wife and lingering a kiss on the top of her head before slowly backing away and leaving the room, practically forcing himself not to turn back as he goes hunting down his children.

A maester arrives and first looks into fixing the cut on Y/n's arm while the midwives attend to prepping for the baby, hurrying around the room in search of fresh clean towels and Milk of the Poppy. As promised, Rhaenyra stayed by her sister's side during the whole process, letting Y/n squeeze her hand as hard as she liked, whispering soft words of encouragement, and dabbing her face with a cool cloth.

For obvious reasons, Y/n didn't get any sleep that night, but neither could anyone else in the keep. Everyone was restless, even those unaware of Y/n's labors. After the events of the night, everyone was high-strung and uneasy, and some were downright afraid. Alicent returned to her chambers, never wanting to see a soul until morning. Viserys went to bed, but lay awake at night, guilt and remorse running through his veins. The royal children retired to their respective rooms, but they all stayed awake and Aemond even sat at the window, watching Vhagar in the distance with a smirk.

Daemon, Harwin, and Rhaenys continued to stay and entertain the children, tending to their bleeding faces and trying to make them forget their worries. Jace and Luke, none the wiser for what had happened, gladly entertained the idea of everyone staying up and having fun in their rooms, putting a smile on everyone's faces as they ran around and played. Daemon even found himself teaching all the children small bits of High Valyrian, boys and girls alike sitting down all around him with Baelor and a book in his lap. Baela sat next to her father, her head on his shoulder, trying to rest her eyes after everything that had happened to her today, the only one too exhausted to repeat her father's Valyrian phrases unlike the rest of the children.

Rhaenys sat and quietly listened to these lessons with a cup of wine in hand, while Harwin stood at the door, sometimes pacing, sometimes entertaining the children with stories. But not once, the entire night, did he leave his post at the door, his hand always on his hilt.

The moon had not yet disappeared but the sky was starting to brighten into beautiful colors over the ocean when the door opens and Harwin held onto his sword a little tighter. Everyone looks up with bated breath as Rhaenyra walks in, standing tall and regal as if she had not been awake all night.

"Mother!" Luke gasped excitedly while standing up and running to the princess.

She practically beams as he tightly hugged her waist, her eyes darting up to Harwin with delight, "Y/n's delivered a girl, and they're both going to be fine."

The whole room relaxes with relief, the last of the tension finally leaving the air and leaving them all understandably exhausted. Harwin's whole stiff posture relaxes as one of his hands rises to rub his face. Rhaenyra silently laughs, joy still evident on her expression, "The maester asks for only you to go and see her. Your sons can visit their mother once she's rested."

Harwin nods and swiftly leaves the room, while Rhaenyra turns to the rest of the family, "The royal family leaves Driftmark today, but with your permission, Princess Rhaenys, I think it would be wise if the rest of us stayed a little longer for Y/n and everyone else to get some much-needed rest."

Rhaenys agrees just as Laenor pops into the room, disheveled and groggy. He looks at everyone's expression with a puzzled look, finally turning to Rhaenyra, "What have I missed?"

Harwin makes it back to his chambers in record speed, trying not to appear hasty but also anxious to see his wife and their new daughter. Entering the room, a few of the midwives were cleaning up and leaving, the maester long since gone. Y/n was asleep in their bed, flushed with her silver-blonde hair curling around her head due to sweat, but a small bundle was nestled beside her, and it was squirming. Harwin stepped closer to the bed, making note of Y/n's arm now wrapped in bandages before inspecting the bundle of blankets, his smile softening by what he found.

The infant was small, her little cleaned face the only thing peeking out of the blankets aside from her tiny fingers slowly curling around the fabric as she slept. Like her brothers, she sported small fuzzy tufts of dark hair and even darker eyelashes. The baby girl's lips were slightly open, letting out soft hums as she dreamed. Harwin's heart had never fallen in love faster than it did at this very moment, his finger lightly caressing her cheek and amazed by the softness of her skin.

"My love."

Harwin's eyes drift over to his once slumbering wife, noticing her eyes have opened and she was tiredly smiling up at him. Overcome by relief and happiness, Harwin laughs under his breath before leaning over and kissing Y/n on the lips, taking her breath away. Eventually, he pulled away, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

"Amazing as always, my dear," he whispers, unable to resist kissing her forehead, "How are you?"

Y/n slowly blinks, humming, "Exhausted."

"You can rest. I say you've more than earned it."

Her eyes peek open again, "The boys?"

"Safe and sound. They are in good hands. Rhaenyra will bring them to you once you've healed," his hand grazes over her bandaged arm, "What did the maester say about this?"

"It was Valyrian steel. So the cut was clean. A scar will remain, I'm afraid."

"I will take a new scar over your death any day," Harwin kissed his wife's forehead again before carefully lifting the small bundle into his arms, attempting not to wake the baby. His smile widens once he's positioned her properly and naturally begins to rock, "Well, she's finally here. Have you thought about the names we picked?"

"I did... but none of them seem right now that I've met her."

"Well, do you have another one in mind?"

Y/n thought long and hard, fingers drumming against the feather pillow. She thought about tonight's events, how it had all started with Vhagar being stolen and Laena's memory insulted. To have those two things happen along with the attack in the Great Hall, it felt as though people had tainted the memory of a young and fierce woman who was taken from this world too soon.

"Laena," Y/n strongly announced, "I like to believe she was here with us this past night. I like to believe she protected us and she deserves to be honored now that I've delivered my daughter in her family's home."

Harwin stared down at their daughter, playing with the name on his lips as he watched her sleep, "Laena Strong. I like it."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Osmund was named after King Aegon I Targaryen’s Hand, Osmund Strong, who was assigned the Hand of the King after Orys Baratheon’s death. Baelor was named to reference Baelor the Blessed/Beloved, but it’s obviously not him since the original Baelor won’t be born until after the Dance of Dragons. Laena is obviously named after Vhagar’s true rider, aside from Visenya. I would have named Y/n’s daughter after Visenya, but spoiler alert, Daemon and Rhaenyra eventually have a daughter already named that. She’s probably the baby in Rhaenyra’s belly in Episode 8.

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

second heir

pairing: harwin strong x targaryen!oc

synposis: tensions in the targaryen family rise when viserra targaryen, the youngest child of queen aemma and king viserys, gives birth to her second son with ser harwin strong. ser criston cole learns that picking on harwin strong's son is not the smartest decision.

warnings: graphic depiction of childbirth, swearing, violence, slight angst, fluff, ser cri*t*n c*le

notes: I usually do a reader insert but thought it would make more sense to use a targaryen-esque name - enjoy!

"Push Princess. Just one more."

A whimper escaped her lips. Her body felt like it was on fire. Or dipped in acid. Or both. In that moment, Viserra Targaryen was convinced there was no greater suffering on earth than that of childbirth.

"Push!"

"I'm fucking trying." Viserra seethed through clenched teeth as she pushed with all her might.

"Come on my love." The deep voice of her husband murmured in her ear as he knelt beside her. "Take my hand."

Viserra let out a groan of pain as she pushed once more, her hand clasping around her husband's as she squeezed with all her might.

"Why did you have to get me pregnant you fucking cunt, I swear I'm going to-" Her rant was cut off as she let out another scream of pain as the midwife behind her held open her legs.

"I think one more push will do it princess, I see the head!" The midwife announced from below her.

"Yes darling, tell me how much of a cunt I am come on." A gloved hand caressed her face, drawing her attention away from the midwife between her thighs. Her eyes locked with the deep brown ones of her husband.

"I love you, you stupid cunt- ah!" If he was not so strong she most likely would have pulverised the bones in his hand.

A breathy chuckle escaped Harwin Strong's lips as he squeezed her hand back.

"I am a cunt, a cunt that loves you very much." With that she clenched her eyes shut as she gave one last push.

She let out a moan of relief as the pain subsided, air filling up her lungs once more as the midwives gushed in praise.

"It's ok my love, it is over." Harwin murmured, kissing her damp hair as he held her closely.

"You are so strong, a brave mother." Viserra let out a silent sob as she clung to her husband, letting him pepper her face with kisses and praises as she fell limp in his arms.

"It is a boy, princess."

Viserra finally opened her eyes as crying filled the cavernous room. She was both crying and laughing with joy as she watched the midwife carefully bundle up her son.

Overwhelming love and warmth filled her as her son was placed into her outstretched arms. Almost as if those last few hours of pain had been erased, like she would do it all again now just to hold him like this.

"Healthy?"

"As healthy as one can be, princess." The midwife confirmed.

Viserra let out another sob as she cradled her son to her chest and placed a kiss to his forehead.

"Hi baby." She whispered to him, watching as he squirmed and flailed in her arms.

"Look how beautiful he is." She murmured, finally passing him to Harwin to hold.

"Well no wonder, look at his mother." Harwin smiled softly as he gently took his son in his arms. "I told you I knew it would be another boy."

Viserra felt her heart warm when she saw the tears rolling down her husband's cheeks as he spoke.

"He is perfect." She remarked, her eyes never leaving her son, completely entranced in the new life she and Harwin had just created.

"That he is." Harwin murmured as he carefully handed him back to Viserra.

"Princess." The sound of an unfamiliar voice made Viserra finally tear away her eyes from her son.

She felt a sense of dread course through her at the sight of the nervous handmaiden. She knew that could mean only one thing.

"The Queen has requested the child be brought to her. Immediately."

"Now? For what purpose?" Harwin's voice was demanding as he rose to his feet, a complete shift in his demeanour from only moments ago.

"I-I-" The handmaiden began to flounder, her eyes wide and fearful as she glanced between the commander and the princess.

"-it is fine." Viserra saved the handmaiden from her unpredictable fate.

"I will take him myself."

"You will do no such thing." Harwin snapped as Viserra began to push herself off the mattress. "You must rest."

"Your husband is right princess, you must stay in bed." One of the midwives agreed.

They were right, of course. Viserra wanted nothing more than to lay in bed with her husband and new son. But Queen Alicent Hightower had already ruined that perfect moment by sending her handmaiden in here. Just the mention of her name was poisonous enough to sour everything it touched.

The least Viserra could do now was ensure that she drip fed the Queen her own sweetly crafted poison while she met her grandson.

"Remove the cord and make sure the afterbirth has arrived. Then help me dress. Husband, you hold him."

Harwin eyed his wife for a few moments before nodding as he took his son once more. He knew his wife well enough to know that once she made her mind up, there was no changing it. Best to stand aside and let her run her course.

"It is done princess." One of the midwives announced after a few minutes.

Viserra gritted her teeth and wrapped a hand around one of the bedposts. She ground her teeth in an attempt to extinguish the grunt of pain she let out as she pulled herself off the bed and onto her feet.

"This is ridiculous." Harwin spat, his heart aching as he watched helplessly as his wife winced as the handmaidens cinched her dress around her waist.

"What could possibly be so urgent that she needs to see our son right away."

"I am sure the Queen has her very rationale reasons." Viserra drawled as the handmaidens stepped away from her.

"Let us just get this over with." She huffed as they opened the doors from their chambers.

"Run a bath for the princess for when she returns." Harwin murmured to one of the servants quietly so Viserra did not hear.

"Sister!" The sound of Rhaenyra's voice filled her ears the second they stepped into their main living quarters.

"A healthy boy, I heard." Viserra felt a smile form on her lips at the sight of her sister bounding towards her.

"Oh he is beautiful sister, congratulations." A rare true smile appeared on Rhaenyra's face as she stared down at her nephew.

"Thank you sister."

The smile was quick to fall from Rhaenyra's features when she noticed Harwin's grim features and the way her sister's smile did not meet her eyes.

Her brow narrowed when she watched her brother in law and sister begin to make their way towards the threshold of their quarters.

"What is wrong? Where are you going?"

"The Queen has requested to see him. Immediately." Harwin answered as they stepped into the hallway.

"She what?" Rhaenyra could hardly believe her ears as she walked alongside them.

"I know she did it with Joffrey but I never thought- she has gone too far. I cannot sit by and-"

"- you can and you will sister." Viserra cut her off, breathing deeply as pain rumbled through her.

"We will go and show her the child, let her feel powerful for a few moments. It might do her some good." Their voices were low as they made their way through the hallway. At a very slow pace at that given Viserra's state.

"I am coming with you."

"No." Viserra's voice was firm as she came to a stop to grab her sister's arm. "She will just find some way to villainize you or to get you to say something she can twist."

Rhaenyra's face morphed into one of sadness as she studied her sister.

"Let her torture us for a while." Viserra insisted.

"We can handle it." Harwin spoke, sending his sister in law a nod.

Rhaneyra glanced between them as she tried to reach a decision. She knew what the rationale one was. That her sister was right. As heir it was more strategic to leave it. But as Viserra's older sister, every part of her was screaming at her to march up those stairs and tear Allicent's hair from her scalp.

The look on Harwin's face was what made her decision for her. The look that said if anything happened to his wife, he would literally murder everything in sight. She knew her sister was safe with him.

"Fine." She relented. "But please try not to strain yourself too much sister." A hand reached up to gently brush Viserra's cheek.

"I will do my best." Viserra forced a small on her lips as she leant into her sister's touch.

With that Harwin and Viserra were on their way once more. Viserra let out a whimper as she clung to his arm. They had only made it a few metres when Harwin came to a stop.

"Alright that is it."

"Harwin what-"

"Hold him." Viserra opened her mouth in surprise as he passed their son into her arms.

"Harwin-" She let out a small yelp of surprise as he bent down and wrapped his hands under her back and legs and lifted her off the ground with ease.

She clung to their son as Harwin cradled her in his arms and began to march with a determined pace towards the Queen's chambers.

"Harwin-" She began for the third time.

"I will put you down before we go inside do not fret. We can let her think you scaled those steps on your own. But I am not letting my wife who just gave birth take another step if it can be avoided." He answered her as he passed by gaping onlookers without so much as a glance in their direction.

Her heart warmed at his words. She felt her anger subdue for a few moments as she studied her husband, with that look of loyal determination on his features. The face that she had fallen in love with as a teenager.

She remembered the day that he had taken up a position as a sworn protector of her family. The first time the pair locked eyes across the hall. The first time they spoke when he caught her trying to sneak out of the castle. The first time they unfurled their secrets to one another. The first time she took his hand and led him into her chambers.

While Rhaenyra was having her tryst with Criston Cole, Viserra was having hers with Harwin Strong.

But unlike her sister, Viserra did not have the weight of being their father's heir on her shoulders. Nor was her father as focused on marrying her off to the most politically strategic husband possible.

So when Viserra walked in one afternoon and informed her father that she was in love with Harwin Strong and was to wed him, what else was he to do but agree? He could never say no to his baby daughter, nor did he want to. He could see how in love she was and all he wished was for her to be happy. Besides, the rumours of their tryst and the ruining of her maidenhood had began to spread through the castle. This would quell those rumours.

It made sense politically too, given Harwin Strong was the son of the hand of the king and the heir to Harrenhal. It was the perfect strategic match for a second born daughter. That was how he had explained it to Alicent when she had questioned it anyway. Of course, that only deepened the queen's jealousy and resentment towards the Targaryen sisters.

Harwin came to a stop in front of the Queen's chambers. Viserra brought a hand up to caress his cheek.

"I love you husband."

"As I love you, wife." He answered, pressing a kiss to her palm as he gently placed her down on the ground. He captured her lips in a kiss. The usually frowned upon public display of affection caused the guards stationed at the door to divert their eyes.

"Give her hell." He whispered into her ear as the doors opened.

That she would.

Their son squirmed in her arms as they made their way inside. Neither spared Ser Criston Cole a glance as they passed him. Alicent was standing at the window, her back to them, her gaze fixed over the sea.

Viserra fought the urge to double over in pain as her insides burned. Her body was slick with sweat. Practically dripping from head to toe. Her blonde hair plastered to her face and back.

It was a comfort to her to know that even when she looked like this, Alicent's beauty would still never compare. A small comfort, perhaps a petulant one. But a comfort nonetheless.

"Viserra." Alicent's sickly sweet voice rung out through the cavernous room.

"What are you doing here? You should be resting after your labours." Her concern almost sounded sincere.

"I did not wish to disappoint you, your grace." Viserra answered as Harwin ushered her over to the couch.

"Oh yes, please sit." Alicent nodded, her dress swishing at her ankles as she made her way over to them.

She watched with intense eyes as Harwin guided his wife down to sit on the sofa. His gaze was so full of love and concern it almost made Alicent feel ill. Anger rippled through her as he placed a tender kiss to Viserra's forehead.

Such love, such intimacy. It was something that Alicent would never experience. At least Rhaenyra had to make some small sacrifices in the name of duty as heir. Viserra on the other hand did not even know the meaning.

Being the second born daughter meant the focus had always been off her. That she could run around and do as she pleased with no consequences. Alicent had known of her treacherous affair with the Strong boy, she had even gone to Viserys with the information. Yet nothing was done, she was brushed off once more. And after all that Viserra still got to wed the man that she loved.

"I cannot believe how long it has been since your last son was born. How old is Aemar now?"

"He will be six next month, your grace." Harwin answered her.

"Six." Alicent remarked. "Such a long space in between children."

"It was not for a lack of trying your grace." Viserra answered her as she raised a brow. "Believe me."

Harwin glanced down at his feet to hide his smirk as Alicent's mouth drew into a sharp line.

"Yes well, better late than never I suppose." She cleared her throat as she approached them.

"Let me meet him properly." It was a demand, not a question. Her arms extended expectantly. Viserra bit her tongue as she reluctantly handed the queen the small bundle in her arms.

"He was two weeks early I understand? Like his brother?"

"Ten days early, your grace."

Alicent let out a hum as she examined the child in her arms intently. "Do the maesters think it will impact him the way it has Aemar?"

Viserra could feel the fire beginning to build up inside her.

"I am not sure I understand, your grace." Harwin spoke for her, noting the way his wife's fists had curled up the material of the sofa.

"Well the boy is quite small for his age."

Criston Cole smirked in the corner.

"The maesters have assured us they are both strong and healthy. They do have Targaryen blood after all." Viserra answered, using every ounce of her strength to keep her voice calm.

"Unless you are questioning the quality of Targaryen blood, your grace. Which I am sure was not your intention."

Alicent looked up from the child, her eyes locking with Viserra's.

"Of course not. I suppose it would have to be the integrity of your husband's blood that caused such defects."

Silence fell over the room. It had been such an off handed remark. Said so casually and plainly for how great of an insult the words wielded.

Harwin and Viserra were no fools. They were aware of the Queen's suspicions around the lineage of Rhaenyra's three children. The rumours that they had been fathered by one of the knights in the city watch. They were true, of course. It was plain as day. The three boys had dark brown hair and pale skin. But nothing would extract that confession from Viserra.

It was only logical for Alicent to start questioning the lineage of Viserra's children too. If one sister was capable of adultry, why not the other? It did not help that Aemar had been born small and lean, particular in comparison to his father. But the maesters had assured Harwin and Viserra that he was merely a late bloomer, that he would grow into his build.

As Viserra stared at Alicent, she wondered how she had ever felt sympathy for her. Much less been her friend. She used to follow Rhaenyra and Alicent around wherever they went when she was a child. Hanging onto their every word like it was gospel.

Even after her father had announced his intention to wed Alicent, Viserra had still tried to be friends. She had seen how Otto Hightower had manoeuvred his daughter like a chess piece for his own gain. And she had felt sorry for her as she watched her churn out child after child, trapped in a loveless marriage.

But the moment she had started going after Rhaenyra, all hope was lost. And as the three women grew, Alicent's bitterness towards Rhaenyra spread to Viserra, entangling her up in her web of venom and lies and hatred.

There was no repairing the bond that had been broken.

"What did you say?" Harwin's voice was low, his eyes bright with rage.

He took a step towards her. The sound of Criston Cole's blade being unsheathed rang out behind them.

"Husband, relax." Viserra brought a hand up to grip his forearm.

She turned around in her seat and glared at Criston. "And sheath your blade Ser Criston, there is no need for such theatrics." She resisted the urge to smile at the sight of his glowering stare.

"The Queen did not mean any harm by her words." Her voice was scarily light and calm. She forced a chuckle up her throat and past her lips. Her face was the perfect portrait of calm.

She thought she might tear the Queen's head clean off her shoulders when she noticed Alicent's grip on her son tighten.

"You know that she is often left alone by father, sometimes he forgets to pass on things. Like what the maester's have told him about the health of his grandchildren."

Viserra could feel Harwin relax under her touch as she shot Alicent a smile.

"Right, your grace?"

If looks could kill, Viserra would be shredded into ribbons right now.

"Of course. I meant no offence." Alicent managed to force out, causing Viserra's grin to widen.

Viserra knew she should leave it at that. To not poke the beast. But Alicent's insult had ignited the flame within her. And once that flame was alight, it could not easily be extinguished.

"You know, you must get your boys to come meet their new nephew, your grace. Especially Aegon." Viserra spoke casually as Alicent handed her son back to her.

"Must I?"

"Oh yes. I mean with me as second heir and the birth of our son that would put Aegon now at... seventh in line?" Viserra feigned confusion as she glanced up at Harwin.

Harwin knew the nature of the game instantly.

"Eighth, my love. Counting our little nephew." Harwin responded, a smirk on his lips as he glared at the queen.

"Oh yes eighth of course, I almost forgot to count little Prince Joffrey. My mistake." Viserra chuckled.

"I know Aegon is not so... passionate about ruling as you or your father are, so I am sure that the knowledge he is now eighth in line would be most relieving for him to hear."

Viserra was not sure if she had ever seen Alicent so unhinged. Her bottom lip trembled and her face twitched as she stared at her step-daughter. Usually the perfect face of righteousness and dignity. The ever composed queen. She looked as if she might just step forward and scratch Viserra's eyes out.

"You dare-"

"What happy news this morning!"

Viserra felt her heart warm at the sight of her father making his way through the double doors. Viserys' eyes lit up at the sight of his daughter and his newest grandson.

"It appears your hunch was right Harwin, a healthy boy I have heard."

"Indeed your grace." Harwin smiled as Viserra extended out the bundle of cloth for him to take.

"Let me see my handsome grandson."

Alicent glared as she watched her husband take the child in his arms. He had never even looked that happy when holding their own children.

"Oh he is beautiful. He will make a strong knight I am sure." Viserys beamed as he rocked the babe gently.

"Has my grandson got a name yet?"

"We were thinking Edmyn." Viserra answered when Harwin glanced down at her questioningly.

A grin spread across his lips at the name. It was a traditional House Strong name. One that Viserra knew Harwin had been secretly dying for.

"Edmyn? That is an unusual Valyrian name." Alicent chimed in. Viserra had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Because it is not one. Aemar has a Valyrian name, I think it only fitting we also pay homage to the Strongs."

"I could not agree more daughter. Edmyn suits him. I am sure your father will be proud of it Harwin."

"Indeed he will your grace."

This time it was Alicent's turn to not roll her eyes.

"You know, I think I can see a bit of his grandmother in him." Viserys remarked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. Viserra could feel tears threatening to pool in her own eyes at the mention of her mother.

Harwin cleared his throat when he noticed his wife's state.

"If it is ok with you, your grace, your daughter has been more braver than I could ever be, I think she deserves to rest."

"Oh of course." Viserys smiled as he glanced down at his daughter. "I know how draining your labours can be."

"Thank you father." Viserra grimaced as Harwin helped her back up onto her feet.

"We are hoping to bare you a granddaughter next." She continued as she studied Alicent. "And we have already picked out the name."

She was more than happy to twist the knife in further.

"Aemma."

This time Alicent could not fight the eye roll at Viserra's words, turning her back as she did so.

A tear rolled down Viserys' cheek as he brought his hand up to caress his daughter's cheek.

"We can only hope the gods may be so kind." Viserys smiled as he embraced her in a tight hug.

"Now go rest with your husband and new child."

Viserra winced as she slipped into the hot tub. She withheld a moan as the warm water surrounded her, melting into her skin and bones.

"I am sorry if I bled on you."

Harwin let out a small chuckle and shook his head as he knelt down beside the tub.

"I have seen the worst that mankind has to offer, the type of violence that no one should see. You really think a little bit of blood is going to offend me?" He mused as he brought a damp cloth up to her forehead.

His gaze softened when she did not reply, watching as her eyes fluttered closed.

"You should not have had to go through that today." He murmured as he tenderly cleaned her.

"No." She conceded. "I should not have."

"You would not have to if we left King's Landing. If we travelled to Harrenhal and lived with my family."

"You know I cannot leave Rhaenyra. Not with these spiders circling her ever tighter. She is surrounded. I am all she has." Harwin withheld a sigh at her words.

They were expected, but disappointing none the less.

"I know."

No more was said as Harwin bathed her and helped her dress. He picked her up and carried her to their bed, placing her gently on the satin sheets.

She was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Harwin smiled softly as he watched her sleep, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Viserra stirred but did not wake at the sound of a soft knock on the door. Harwin spared her one last glance before he crept to the door. He was greeted by Rhaenyra Targaryen on the other side.

"Is Viserra asleep?"

"She has had a long day." He answered quietly.

Rhaenyra merely nodded in understanding, her face tight with worry as she glanced over Harwin's shoulder.

"She will tell you all tomorrow, I am sure." He assured the princess.

"Was it bad?"

"Quite. Alicent grows more venomous each day." Harwin answered.

"I thought Viserra would be spared given she is not first heir."

"It appears that her resentment has spread to encompass your sister too, princess." Harwin could not hide the anger in his voice as he spoke. He hated feeling so helpless, like there was nothing he could do to protect his wife.

"You should leave, you do not have to stay here. Both of you and the boys should go to Harrenhal. Be spared from this torture." Rhaenyra whispered, desperation evident in her voice.

"You and I both know that Viserra will never leave you alone here."

Rhaenyra sighed and nodded in agreement. "I wish I had not taught her to be so stubborn."

A sad smile spread across Harwin's lips.

"As do I."

Harwin squinted as the sunlight hit his eyes. He stepped out into the training courtyard. The sound of wooden swords hitting sacks filled with barley filled his ears. The grunts of young boys exerting themselves as they practiced.

He glanced up to see Viserys watching from above. He gave him a nod and a smile in greeting. His eyes scanned the yard, counting four of his nephews. He was quick to spot his son. The smallest of the five children. And the only one skulking about in the corner.

A smile spread across his lips as he watched the way Aemar's eyes brightened at the sight of him. Aemar dropped his sword without a second thought and raced towards him, weaving between the other boys to reach him.

Harwin let out a small chuckle as Aemar smashed into his leg, wrapping his thin limbs around his thigh to cling to him.

"Is it supper time father? Is training over?" His son asked as he peered up at him through his thick head of dark hair.

"Not quite yet. I just came to see how you were getting along."

"Oh." Aemar's smile was quick to fall. He watched as his father crouched down to meet his eyes.

"Maybe I can finish training early today? Could you ask mother?"

"Your mother is sleeping with your brother. She is quite tired."

"Oh no do not disturb her then, mother deserves as much rest as she can have." Aemar's brow knitted together as concern flashed across his features.

Harwin smiled softly as he ran a hand through his son's hair. He had always been so considerate and kind of others. Something that worried Harwin slightly. That kind of compassion was a weakness here.

"How has your training been going?" Harwin's eyes drifted over to Criston to see Criston's gaze already locked onto his.

Aemar glanced down at his feet. "Fine."

A lie.

Harwin could see Criston speaking to Alicent's boys, Rhaenyra's children left to practice on their own. He had a feeling his son was being given the same treatment.

"Go on then, I will watch you train and then we can go get something to eat." Harwin shot his son a warm smile and patted him on the shoulder.

Aemar, never one to disappoint his parents, dutifully nodded before scurrying back to the centre of the yard.

Harwin rose to his full height and paced around the edge of the square. He could feel Criston's eyes on him as he walked but chose to ignore it as he watched the boys begin to spar.

Criston and Harwin were similar, some would say. Both knights, protectors of the royal family. Both had fallen in love with a Targaryen princess. Both had disgraced their sacred vows to bed them.

The difference between Criston and Harwin was that Harwin's infatuation was not one sided. A difference that both were acutely aware of.

Harwin had always found Criston's jealousy quite pathetic. And initially quite humorous. That was until Ser Criston had started taking out his anger on Viserra and Rhaenyra's children.

"Come on Aemar, weapons up." He encouraged when he saw his son hesitantly go to pick up his sword.

His small fingers had nearly reached the hilt when Criston's boot stepped on it, crushing it as he brushed past Aemar to speak to Aegon.

"It seems some of your younger pupils could do with a bit more attention, Ser Criston." Harwin could not control his tongue any longer. If he did not say something, it would be his fists that would talk instead.

"You question my method of instruction?" Criston answered him.

"No, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils."

"With all due respect Ser, I doubt you can have an impartial stance on the matter."

Harwin barked out a humourless laugh as he locked eyes with him. "Humour me."

Criston eyed him for a few moments before an unreadable expression crossed his features.

"Very well. Aemar, you spar with Aegon."

Harwin gritted his teeth as he watched Criston grip his son's armour and yank him into the centre of the field.

"That is hardly a fair match."

Indeed, Aegon was at least twice his son's size and weight and even in age. Aegon, being the spoilt cunt that he was, seemed delighted at the opportunity to crush a weaker opponent.

"When steal is drawn a fair match isn't something anyone should expect."

Harwin glanced up at the viewing balcony at the king and his father. Neither seemed willing to say a word.

"Blades up." Criston continued.

Harwin could see Aemar was shaking, even from where he was standing. His son was not a fighter, at least not yet. He was small and skinny and his temperament was the most gentle he had seen. He may grow into one yet, but Harwin was certain that this type of combat would not help him get there.

Aemar glanced at his father, his eyes pleading as he shakily rose his sword up in front of his chest.

"Engage."

Aegon let out an unhinged scream as he hurtled himself at Aemar. Harwin was too far away to stop him from hitting Aemar across the face and pushing him down. Harwin reached him as Aegon raised his sword to bring it down onto Aemar's chest.

Harwin lunged forward and grabbed the older prince by the scruff of the neck. Aegon let out a scream of frustration, thrashing around against Harwin as he tried to attack his younger nephew.

"Aegon!" The King finally let out a weak reprimand from above.

Harwin simply shoved him away, sending him stumbling into Ser Criston.

Rhaenyra's children ran to crowd around Aemar who was still on his back. They were murmuring comforting and encouraging things to him as Harwin reached them.

"Son, are you all right?" Harwin crouched down, his heart hammering in his chest as he brought his son up to sit.

The wood had drawn blood, a small slice across Aemar's smooth cheek. It was still enough to make Harwin see red.

"I am ok father." Aemar's small voice wavered, his chin wobbling as he tried to keep a brave face.

"I am confused Ser Harwin. You wish for me to treat your son equally and yet intervene within mere seconds."

Harwin's jaw clenched at the sound of Criston's mocking voice behind him. Harwin rose to his full height, his fists bunched at his sides as he turned to glare at Cole.

"The prince could have been seriously hurt. That match up was not safe."

Criston let out a small chuckle as Harwin turned around once more to pay attention to his son. He needed to quell his anger before he could no longer contain it and did something regrettable.

"I am sorry you feel that match was not fair, Strong." Cole spoke as he eyed Harwin.

"But I am afraid due to your son's.... stature... none of his nephew's would be a fair match." Harwin glanced down at his son who's head hung in shame at Ser Criston's words.

He could hear Aegon and Aemond sniggering behind him.

"Perhaps I could ask one of the handmaiden's to volunteer. Or your new son. They are probably equal in strength."

The snap of broken bone hung in the air.

Criston stumbled back as blood began to leak from his nose. Harwin let out an animalistic growl as he knocked him to his feet and launched himself on top of him. He landed punch after punch, screaming as he let out his rage.

"Say it again! Speak that way about my son again!" He shouted as arms wrapped around him and forced him off the knight.

Criston's body was limp, his head lolling back as blood poured from his nose.

"You talk about him like that again and I will fucking kill you, do you hear me!" He bellowed as other knights dragged him away.

Viserys and Lionel watched from above, their faces grim as they watched the scene unfold.

"So much for that pleasant afternoon." Viserys sighed.

"I heard it took four knights to pull you off him."

Harwin winced as Viserra pressed an ointment into his blistering knuckles.

"I was a bit too preoccupied to count."

Amusement flashed across her features as she rubbed the ointment in gently.

"I wish I was there to witness it, would have got me all hot and bothered."

Harwin shook his head, trying to fight the smile on his face as he glanced up at his wife.

"What? It taking four knights pulling me off him, or watching Ser Criston being beat into a pulp."

"Can a woman not find both equally arousing?" She teased him as she placed the ointment on the table beside the bed.

She withheld a sigh when she watched the smile seep from his face. His eyes glazing over as he thought about today's events. She leant forward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss.

"You did nothing wrong, my love." She mumbled against his lips as she pressed their foreheads together. "

Cole should not have dared insult a prince like that. All the boys heard him say it, he has no way to talk himself out of it. He will be punished. I will see to it that you are not. You were just protecting your son." Viserra's voice was thick with emotion as she spoke, anger furling up inside her at the memory of her husband relaying the words that Cole had said to their son.

She could not think about it for to long. Or think about the small cut on Aemar's cheek that she touched when she kissed him goodnight. It made her sick with rage. Angry enough to burn the entire castle to the ground.

"I still should not have lost my temper. Not in front of Aemar. It sets a bad example." He mumbled as he glanced down at his bruised knuckles.

"It might have frightened him."

Viserra's gaze softened at her husband's words. She ran a hand through his thick hair before using her index finger to tilt his chin up and force him to meet her eyes.

"Aemar adores you. He could never be frightened of you. He knows that you would only act like that if our family was in danger."

Harwin smiled as Viserra leant forward to kiss her husband's forehead.

"I do not know what I would do without you." He mumbled against her skin as he embraced her in a tight hug and buried his head into her chest.

"Nor I you." She whispered to him as she let him cling to her, engulfing her frame as she wrapped her arms around him.

It was in that moment that Viserra's mind wandered back to the conversation they had yesterday when she was taking her bath. About leaving King's Landing. And for the first time, she felt herself seriously considering it.

A knock at the door made both of them pull apart. They exchanged glances before turning their attention to the entrance.

"Enter." Viserra called.

"Rhaenyra." Her sister's name slipped through her lips at the sight of her.

"Sister, Ser Harwin." Rhaenyra inclined her head as they both rose to their feet to greet her.

"What brings you here at such a late hour?" Viserra's brow knitted together as she studied her sister.

"I came to tell you." Rhaenyra swallowed as her eyes darted between them.

"My family and I are leaving. Tomorrow."

Viserra's lips parted in surprise, her eyes darting to Harwin before turning back to her sister.

"To Dragonstone?"

"I should have left years ago." Rhaenyra nodded.

"But what of your position. If that bloodsucking queen has father all to herself-"

"-I have been made a spectacle of sister." Rhaenyra snapped, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "They whisper about me in the corridors. I wish to leave them to it."

Rhaenyra sniffled as she held back her tears, her eyes moving from her sister to Harwin who was studying her warily.

"After the events of yesterday and today, I cannot stay here any longer. You and your family have been tarred with the same brush. I cannot let you be tried and punished for the crimes Alicent believes me to have committed."

"Sister." Viserra breathed out as she stepped forward to take her sister's hands in her own.

"I beg of you, do not do this for my benefit. We are on your side, in your corner. We can batter this storm."

Rhaenyra shook her head and squeezed her sister's hands tightly. "I know sister, I know. But this is a storm that we should flee from." She locked eyes with Harwin's once more.

"And I am not doing this for my benefit, I am doing it for both of our families."

Harwin came to stand beside Viserra as she released her sister's hands, confusion contorting on her features.

"Come with us." Rhaenyra continued as she glanced between the couple.

"We can be a family. Our boys can do as they like, play and train without us having to fear what Criston Cole might do to them."

Viserra dragged her eyes from Rhaenyra up to Harwin's. He was already staring down at her, his face muscles taught. In that moment, it was just the two of them together as they studied eachother.

"Your father-"

"My father does not matter." Harwin cut her off. "Our family is what matters. You know I have always championed us to leave this place."

"I cannot ask you to do this." She whispered, her voice wavering as she spoke.

"I go wherever you go. I would follow you to the end of the earth my love." He murmured back, squeezing her hand tightly.

"It would be nice to give birth and stay in bed for longer than thirty seconds." She murmured after a few moments. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he nodded in agreement.

"Indeed."

For once Rhaenyra was unable to hold back her tears as she watched her baby sister and her husband.

"To Dragonstone then?"

The couple turned to her at her words. "To Dragonstone." Harwin agreed, squeezing his wife's hand once more.

"Maybe you can beat up Cole once more before we go. Just so Viserra and I can have a fond memory of this place to look back on."

A grin spread across Harwin's lips as Viserra chuckled beside him.

"That can be arranged."

I adore this fic and the little family I have created hehehe <3 p.s totally canon that Viserra and Harwin have a girl called Aemma. As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

[axelsagewrites]

Hey babe❤️

Can you write a soft dom Harwin Strong fic, pleasee?🧎🏻‍♀️

Harwin Strong*Take Care of You

Pairing: Harwin x Princess!reader

Summary: Harwin Strong is in charge of making sure the princess is taking care of and he takes his job very seriously  

Word count: 2212

Warnings: soft dom, finger, p in v sex, praise, secret relationship smut 18+

Masterlist Here

“You must eat your grace,” his low voice whispered in your ear. The day had indeed been long, starting with a dragon ride before being whisked to meet with various lords and even attending the council with your father.

Harwin was currently escorting you to the other side of the castle as you attempted to track down a particularly troublesome lords’ wife to see if she can talk sense into the man, “I shall eat later,” you said back quietly.

“You have yet to have eaten since breakfast,” he pointed out, keeping his voice low and his eyes straight ahead.

“I will tell you when I am hungry- “

“I’m not asking princess,” Harwin said cutting off your voice and making you stop in your steps to look up at him, “You will eat, and you will do so before you find Lady Beesbury. Understood?”

You glanced to where you noticed Larys Strong watching you before looking back to Harwin with a soft smile, “I suppose a quick supper is in order,” without Harwin you wondered if you would walk till your feet worn down to stubs or forget to eat till you wasted away. you were grateful for his instance as soon as you smelled the kitchens soup, but it did not mean all your tasks for the day were over.

Finally, the sky was dark, and you had been able to excuse yourself to go rest from a long day at court. After escorting you to your chambers, leaving you with a swift kiss to your cheek, Harwin had to go finish his watch for the night with the promise to visit after. However, despite promising to rest you were sat at your desk penning a letter to Dorne that your father had asked you to. You were so wrapped up in your writings you did not hear Harwin enter the room.

When his strong hand gently grabbed your shoulder, the feeling made you jump, your hand jerking and ink splattered on the parchment. “You frightened me!” you scolded him, swatting at his hand with your ink free one before trying to get the ink off of your other hand with a spare cloth.

“You’re supposed to be resting princess,” Harwin said, his voice firmer than usual.

“Its just a letter,” you murmured as you tried to clean up the ink.

Harwin’s hand moved to cover yours, stopping your frivolous attempt to save the letter, “I told you to rest,”

You chuckled lightly before looking up at him with an incredulous look, “I am a princess Harwin, I have responsibilities and duties and- “

“You are my duty, your grace,” Harwin said as he moved to kneel in front of you, taking your hands into his, ignoring how the ink stained his skin, “It is my responsibility to take care of you. I cannot do this if you don’t listen,”

“But- “you tried to protest but Harwin did not listen.

“No buts,” he said, shuffling closer, and moving his hands to rest on your hips. You sighed, your arms moving to dangle over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his head level with your chest and his eyes gazing up at you, “You will listen to me princess. Understood?” you nodded but Harwin just shook his head, “I need to hear you princess. To make sure you know how to listen,”

“Understood,” you whispered, suddenly everything else fading out of importance as you leaned down to kiss his lips softly.

One of his hands moved from your hip to your jaw, holding your face in his large hand. His other squeezed your hip, pulling you forward in your chair to be closer. Your hands slipping into his hair, tugging on the soft locks by the nape of his neck. “Wont you take off your armour ser Harwin? So, we can relax together,” you said breaking the kiss and batting your lashes at your lover.

Harwin nodded silently before standing, never taking his eyes off you. as he stared down at you, his hand still holding your face, you noticed how close he was and if not for his armour you would have reached for his skin already. Harwin only removed his hand to begin stripping off his armour, something he had done so many times it only took minutes for the metal to be laid on the floor beside your chair. Soon he was down to his undershirt and thin undergarments, a sight you had seen many times. “You’re staring,” he said, breaking you from your thoughts as he lifted your chin with two fingers to face him.

“Am I allowed to?” you asked, your eyes flickering from his broad chest to his eyes.

“As long as you behave, princess,” he said before crouching down, his face just an inch from yours, “Are you going to do as you are told?” he whispered, his lips bumping your own.

“Yes,” you whispered, desperate to lean in to close the gap but knowing better.

Harwin chuckled lowly, “Good girl,” he mumbled, butterflies twirling in your stomach, before he closed the gap. The kiss was deeper than before as his hand moved to the back of your neck, the other to your waist to suddenly pull you up from the chair and press you into his body. Your hands moved to the neckline of his shirt, tugging at it desperately as you felt his broad shoulders and firm chest.

When the kiss broke you were breathless as Harwin moved to sit in the chair you had once occupied. “Take off the dress for me,” he said, his voice deeper than before as he watched your cheeks flush. Your hands worked the strings of your dress, desperately trying to get it off. Soon it pooled around your ankle, your shift falling with it, “So pretty,” he murmured as he reached forward to touch your thighs, pulling you closer by the back of them.

Harwin opened his legs, pulling you to stand in the gap so he could gaze up and down your body. His hands went up the back of your thighs to your ass, moving teasingly slow and soft enough to make your skin shiver. He squeezed the soft flesh of your ass before grabbing your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. You could feel his hard cock through his under garments and almost whimpered when Harwin moved your hips with his hands to grind on it.

He kissed your cheek, then jaw, then down your neck with soft scattered kisses. “Let me take care of you princess,” he whispered as he began to kiss along your collar bones. You found yourself grinding your hips down, desperate for some friction, “That’s it,” Harwin murmured, “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, “More,” you begged softly.

“Be patience princess,” he said, his hands running up your sides before squeezing your breasts softly, “Good things come to those who wait and only good girls get to come,”

“Okay,” you said, your eyes closing as his fingertips began to trace your nipples making them harden under his touch. You could feel the longing in your stomach as you rubbed your slit along his clothed cock, desperate to feel it inside you already.

Harwin gently squeezed your sensitive buds while his lips worked back up your neck, kissing your jaw before lightly sucking your earlobe, “Do you want me?” his voice was husky as his breath fanned your ear.

“Yes,” you whispered, your hips almost bucking at the idea, “I need you Harwin,” was all you needed to say. His hands suddenly moved to your ass again, but you had no time to complain as he stood, holding you against his chest as he did. You yelped slightly, your hands instinctively going around his neck.

Harwin carried you the short distance to the bed, gently laying you down on the soft fabric. Harwin lay over you, kissing your lips softly and one of his hands trailed down your body, exploring it slowly before moving over to hold your cunt. your breath caught as his fingers slowly trailed up your slit. “So wet for me,” he praised, kissing your lips softly.

He continued running his fingers between your folds, fingers ghosting over your clit only making you want him more. Your hands moved to tangle in his hair as your lips moulded together which acted to muffle the moan as his fingers began to tease your entrance. Slowly he pushed two of his fingers in, stretching you out perfectly.

Your hips bucked, desperate for him to speed up, but Harwin wanted to do this right, “Patience,” he chastised again, “If you don’t start listening, I’ll leave,” he warned while his fingers began to curl inside you making you whimper.

This time he moved to kiss around your chest, squeezing one breast with his spare hand. You moaned when you felt his lips secure around your nipple, sucking it softly and teasing the bud with his teeth while he began to trace the other with his finger. You could feel a knot bubbling in your stomach, and it tightened when he moved his thumb to rest over your clit, rubbing slow circles into the sensitive bud. It was hard to keep your moans quiet as he did this.

You could feel your body start to twitch as he continued his painfully slow assault on your cunt. “Please,” you whimpered softly, “I need you,”

“What do you need princess?” Harwin’s voice was hoarse as he pulled away to look in your eyes, “You can tell me,” he said, his fingers still moving inside you. “Use your words,”

“I need your cock,” you said, your voice almost a whine.

Harwin said nothing as he softly kissed your lips, only for a moment, however. You whined when you felt his fingers leave you but gasped as he moved to hover over you, gripping your hips tightly, “You want me?” he asked, his eyes scanning over your body beneath him.

“Yes,” you whined as he pulled down his undergarments, his cock looking painfully hard as it sprung free, “Please,” you whined as he held his cock, running its tip up and down your slit, “I’ll be good I promise,”

Despite already being stretched with his fingers you still gasped when he started to ease his cock into you, his tip already stretching you out. “Shh,” Harwin whispered, his eyes closing tight when he heard your soft moans, “You must be quiet princess, understand?” he asked, opening his eyes as he sunk his cock in deeper. He chuckled slightly when he saw you nod, “So good for me,” he praised, his cock sinking all the way in, “You take me so well,” he said, as he began to pull out only to thrust back in, “So fucking well,” he muttered as he began his repeated thrusts.

He started slowing at first with deliberate deep thrusts. When he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock, he almost lost control as he leaned down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, his hips speeding up as he began to mercilessly fuck your hole.

“Feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips, his hand slipping between your bodies to find your clit, rubbing quick circles into the sensitive bud. He covered your moans with his lips, but it did not stop the tightening in your stomach.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, before starting to scratch down his back as he fucked you into the bed, the headboard beginning to bang into the wall, but Harwin no longer cared. His hands moved suddenly to grab your legs, hoisting them around his waist so he could fuck you deeper, his hand moving back to your clit as soon as he had done so.

You could feel your cunt start to squeeze around him again and the knot threatened to burst. Harwin’s head fell to the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling into your skin. You bit your lip to stop the moans, but you couldn’t stop the loud moan that came from your lips as your orgasm crashed over your body. Harwin’s hand quickly clamped over your mouth to stifle the sounds, but he did not stop his thrusts.

You felt his body tighten above you and heard the stream of obscenities that fell from his lips like a prayer, “Fuck princess I think im gonna- “he groaned as your legs tightened around his hips, pulling him in deeper. Harwin gasped, his eyes squeezing shut, as his body stiffened. You felt his seed fill you up as his movements stopped. For a moment he laid above you before almost collapsing on top of you.

Your legs moved from his waist back to the bed, your hands moving up to stroke his hair softly. Harwin’s breathing was heavy as he regained his sense before moving to lay beside you. “Are you alright princess?” he asked, scanning over your face with concern in his eyes.

“Better than alright,” you grinned, moving to curl into his side. Harwin wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you tight into your side as your head lay on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He certainly did take care of you.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[criminalamnesia]

Could I request a harwin x Targaryen reader? Like she’s the twin or sister of Rhaenyra and is somewhat sickly/quiet and never got out much until Aegon’s name day, so harwin sees her and its love at first sight?? I’m just dying for harwin fluff

I love this request! You guys honestly have the best ideas. I hope this alright!

Don’t Be A Stranger

warnings: targaryen!f!reader, reader is Rhaenyra’s twin, mentions of illness, not proofread

summary: you’re finally allowed out of the keep for Aegon’s name day hunt.

author’s note: let me know if you guys want a Harwin’s POV of this 👀

You had been a prisoner of the red keep since your birth. Perhaps it was some cruel stroke of fate- some god laughing from high above as he cursed your family with another ill-fated child.

'At least you lived,' Rhaenyra told you once, holding your hand with the lightest of touches- scared you would break if even one breath touched your fragile skin.

Was this living? It couldn't be.

Day in and day out, confined to your bed. Your quarters. Perhaps the corridor, if you felt up to it. You were a prisoner, yes. A prisoner in your sickly body, in your frail bones and pale skin.

You longed to see the world. You dove headfirst into history- the seven kingdoms, Old Valryia, lords and ladies of the realm- anything and everything you could get your hands on to imagine a world outside of that damned bed.

It was enough, until it wasn't. You begged Rhaenyra to sneak you out. Begged her to help you live. She refused.

The realm knew your elder twin as 'The Realm's Delight'. They knew you as 'The Ghost Princess'. You thought the name was suitable, even if your sister and your father and anyone who dared to get close tried to comfort you about it.

There was nothing to comfort. You had tired of comforting. You wanted to get out and see something other than the stone walls of the keep before you lost your mind along with your health.

And so, you formulated a plan.

You had seen Alicent a few times throughout your years. She had seemed kind, until she had wronged Rhaenyra- but there was not much you could do about that.

However you felt about Alicent, you could not deny that you were grateful for her actions at this moment.

"Aegon's name day is coming up," Rhaenyra told you one day, sitting in her usual spot on the side of your bed. Her thumb traced little circles onto the back of your hand. "There's to be a big hunt in honor of it. Bit ridiculous, if you ask me."

You snorted, knowing very well that your and Rhaenyra's name day was also a famously extravagant affair- even if you could not join the festivities.

"When's the hunt?" You asked her.

"A fortnight. Preparations have begun now, of course. The keep is quite mad at the moment. Be glad you do not have to experience it."

You frowned slightly at her statement, glancing towards the lone window in your room.

"Apologies, sister, I did not mean-"

"It's alright, Rhaenyra. I understood." You turned back to look at her, nodding your head in reassurance. She gave your hand a light squeeze.

Although she was still annoyingly cautious around you, Rhaenyra had realized that over the years, you would not break at the slightest touch. So, she had stopped fretting over the smallest of brushes of skin. Mostly. You'd take what you could get.

"The Maester says I'm doing much better," you commented, watching your twin's face as you spoke. "Perhaps I will be allowed to join everyone for the occasion."

Rhaenyra's eyebrows rose in surprise, pulling her hand from yours. "I do not know if that is a good idea. We're to ride to the Godswood, and it can be quite a bumpy journey-"

"I am not glass, Rhaenyra. I will not break at the slightest jostle."

"I know, I just worry-"

"You and everyone else," you huffed, cutting her off. She frowned, eyebrows furrowing as she looked at you.

"Is this something you really want to do? These hunts are famously boring. You will be forced to sit and listen to the ladies of the court complain and throw insults disguised as compliments at one another."

"I want nothing more," you smiled, to which Rhaenyra shook her head.

"Please, sister. Tell me truthfully."

"Yes. I long to leave these walls, even if my first breath outside is my last."

"That was quite dramatic," Rhaenyra spoke after a moment. "You should be a poet."

"I've pondered that thought," you told her, to which she laughed.

The two of you fell silent, Rhaenyra looking at you with a conflicted expression. You could not tell what she was thinking, and you were almost positive she was going to tell you that it was too risky.

But then she said, “I’ll speak to father.”

Your eyebrows lifted, eyes lighting up in glee and excitement. “You will?”

Your sister nodded her head, lips spreading into a small smile at your glee. “Of course. I cannot guarantee what he will say, but I will fight for you.”

“Thank you, Rhaenyra. I am in your debt,” you told her, reaching forward to grasp one of her hands. She looked down at your fingers as they intertwined.

“Nonsense. I am simply doing what you would do for me should the roles be reversed.” Rhaenyra said, and you hummed.

She gave your hand a light squeeze before pulling her’s from your grasp, leaning forward to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“I will go speak to father now. I’m to see him about a few matters anyhow. I will et you know as soon as I can.”

You nodded as you watched her stand. “Thank you, sister.”

She nodded before turning and leaving. When the door shut behind her, you closed your eyes tightly and prayed to whatever god was listening that your father would say yes.

—

Viserys had said no.

Rhaenyra had argued with him for an hour over the matter after she left you, but he had not budged. He could not bear to lose another child, he said. Rhaenyra had scoffed.

She had not told you of your father’s words. As a matter of fact, she did not return to your quarters at all after seeing your father. She didn’t return the next day, either. Or the next.

You had been confused, but you knew what Rhaenyra’s absence had to have meant. Viserys had said no, and she was too busy preparing for the hunt to tell you the news. She probably didn’t want to, anyways. She had always hated seeing you upset.

A week after Rhaenyra had said she would speak to Viserys on the matter, she returned with a grand smile. She practically burst into your quarters, the wooden door slamming into the stone wall it attached to.

“He said yes!” She cried, rushing to your bedside. “Apologies for being absent, I was quite taken with preparations and arguing with our father–” she spoke fast, the words fighting to leave her tongue. “But he finally acquiesced. You are to join us on the hunt, as long as the maesters say you are fit to do so.”

“Oh, thank you Rhaenyra!” You squealed, leaning forward to throw your arms around her in an embrace. Slightly shocked, it took Rhaenyra a few seconds to hug you back.

“Of course. I look forward to having you by my side. I will not have to field the questions of the ladies by my lonesome,” she grinned at you as she pulled back, and you laughed.

“I cannot wait to be pestered with questions.”

“Oh, dear sister,” Rhaenyra sighed with an air of knowing, tucking a strand of your silver hair behind your ear. “You will regret saying that.”

—

After Rhaenyra had shared the news with you, you had been the happiest you had ever been. The servants who tended to you noticed– and they were glad to see such an upbeat mood from you.

The maesters had quickly cleared you for travel, much to your delight. They would come along for the journey at the King’s request, but you did not mind. At least you were being allowed to leave.

Like Rhaenyra said, the keep was quite mad with preparation, especially so close to the date of departure. Numerous servants entered and exited your quarters throughout the days, showing you dresses and packing needed belongings into chests to bring along. You quite liked all the attention. It was a nice change of pace.

When the day came to leave, you were practically bouncing in your bed. Servants came in to help you from your bed, dressing you in a pretty but simple leather dress with black embroidery. You were beaming the entire time.

Rhaenyra came in shortly after, wearing an almost exact copy of your own attire. The embroidery of her ensemble was red, however. She smiled at you, taking you in.

“You look amazing. How are you feeling?” She asked, coming to your side to help you walk.

“I’m fine,” you waved her hand away as you moved for the door. You wobbled slightly, but stayed afoot. Rhaenyra watched you silently before joining you once more, giving you your independence, but ready to help should you need it.

The pair of you made your way slowly out of your room and down the corridor, towards the direction of the courtyard. You passed numerous servants and guards who looked surprised to see you out and about, and you gave each and every one of them a small nod.

When you reached the courtyard, more stares found you. You ignored them as you made your way towards the coach, Rhaenyra following close behind.

“Do you need help to get up?” Your sister asked. You shook your head as you began to climb the steps to the coach. You made it up with only a small wobble, ducking inside to take a seat on one of the cushioned benches. Rhaenyra entered behind you, taking the seat next to you. She smiled widely.

“I’m so glad you’re coming with us. This is going to be more bearable now.” She told you, to which you laughed.

“That’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while,” Viserys’ voice chimed as he ducked inside the coach to join you. Alicent followed behind, Aegon babbling in her arms.

You smiled at your father, grateful he had said yes. He took a seat across from you and Rhaenyra, joy obvious in his expression as he gazed upon his two daughters.

“You two look lovely. It’s good to see you together, smiling.”

“All because of your generosity, dear husband,” Alicent chimed in, settling in beside Viserys.

“I would not say that–” he began, but you swiftly interrupted.

“Yes, thank you father. I appreciate your decision.”

He looked from Alicent to you, nodding his head. “Of course.”

The coach fell silent save for little Aegon’s babbling, and although it was slightly awkward, you would not have traded the moment for the world.

Moments later, the coach began its journey, and you could barely contain your excitement. Viserys and Alicent were speaking about something, but you paid them no mind as you glued your eyes to the small window in the side of the coach.

As Rhaenyra had said weeks ago, the journey was a bit bumpy. You could feel your family watching you intently throughout the ride, but you paid them no mind. You were fine, and even if you weren’t, there was nothing that was going to stop you from going through with this.

When you finally made it to the campsite, you were ecstatic. You could hear all the clamor outside, and it excited you. Rhaenyra looked at you with an amused expression, teasing you, but you ignored her.

The coach rolled to a stop and you sprang from your seat.

“Just wait, dear sister,” she spoke into your ear as she moved to stand beside you. “Father and the Queen will go first. Then you and I.”

You nodded, wishing Viserys and Alicent would put some more haste into their movements. The door to the coach swung open as a servant laid a step stool before it. Viserys gave you a smile as he passed, working his way to the ground with a small huff. Alicent followed, Aegon in her grasp. She was much more graceful.

Rhaenyra moved next, glancing at you from over her shoulder. “Ready?”

You nodded, and she turned her back to you as she hopped down from the coach. You stepped out after her, and it was like the entire camp stopped.

Eyes were all on you stepped onto the grass. Rhaenyra stood beside you, one of her hands grabbing yours protectively.

“Alright?” She asked you quietly, and you nodded.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, taking everything in. People slowly started to resume their tasks as the shock of seeing you wore off. Perhaps the news of your incoming presence had not been widely known.

Rhaenyra tugged lightly at your hand as she made to move, and you raised a foot to follow her, but then your eyes met his.

A man, across the field, was staring at you. Not hungrily. Not in disgust. In something you couldn’t quite place.

He was tall with a large build and a dazzling smile. He was smiling at you, you realized. You looked him up and down, noting his curly hair; his unshaven face; his attire. A house sigil you suddenly could not recall adorned his tunic.

“Rhaenyra,” you called to her, not taking your eyes from the man. “Who is that?”

Rhaenyra turned to follow your gaze, lips breaking into a wide grin as she saw the man you were fascinated with.

“Ser Harwin Strong, of House Strong. I am surprised you did not recognize the sigil, sister.” She was teasing you, you realized.

“No, I did. I just…” you trailed off, still looking in his direction. He nodded to you from, and you felt your cheeks heat as you finally ripped your gaze from his.

“Should I expect to be attending your wedding at the end of this hunt?” Rhaenyra continued and you rolled your eyes before moving in the direction your father and Alicent had gone.

“Nonsense. I do not even know him.” You told her as she fell into step beside you.

“But you would like to, would you not?” Your sister poked your side lightly. You swatted her hand away with no force.

You said nothing more, and Rhaenyra took your silence as an end to the conversation.

—

Rhaenyra had been right.

The ladies of the court were boring.

You were situated in a plush chair (brought specially for you) beside Rhaenyra as the pair of you listened to gossip and subtle criticisms.

You had thought the ladies would jump at the chance to pester you with questions, but it was almost as if you weren’t even there. They paid you little mind, opting to pester Rhaenyra instead. Perhaps it was because they were afraid that if they even acknowledged you, you would break.

“Ladies,” a man spoke up as he moved to join the group. You looked up to see another member of house Strong, judging by the sigil on his tunic. Not Harwin– perhaps a cousin? A brother? Judging by the image of Harwin still plastered in your mind, they looked similar. They had to be related.

“Mind if I join?” He asked, soft spoken. The ladies nodded, going back to their gossips as the man made his way to an empty chair.

“Larys Strong,” Rhaenyra leaned over to whisper in your ear as if reading your mind. “Harwin’s brother.”

You looked at the man curiously, now obviously seeing the resemblance. Larys met your gaze with a small smile.

“You must be the other Princess. It is nice to make your acquaintance. I certainly see the resemblance.” He gestured between you and Rhaenyra.

The ladies had stopped talking now, opting to listen to you and Larys.

You gave a kind, small laugh. “Of course. It’s a pleasure, Lord Strong.”

“Oh, I am not a lord, Princess. That title is my father’s.”

You nodded. “My apologies.”

“None needed,” he replied, eyes watching you intently. “It is quite a surprise to see you here. Many were starting to believe you were a myth.”

You cocked an eyebrow is surprise. Rhaenyra’s hand fell atop one of yours. “Is that so?” You questioned. Larys nodded.

“Yes, Princess. There were many whispers that you had died and the King would not admit it. Whispers that you were part dragon, and that is why you were not allowed out of the keep.”

“That’s enough of that,” Rhaenyra spoke, her tone firm. “We need not speak of whispers and stories. My sister is alive and well, right next to me.”

“Of course, Princess,” Larys nodded. He was still looking at you. “You and I are more alike than one would think, Princess. Both younger siblings. Both hidden away. Both a source of shame–”

“I think I should like to get some air,” you announced, standing from your chair. Rhaenyra rose to your side without a word, but you shook your head.

“Alone, please,” you whispered to her, and she reluctantly nodded as she lowered herself back into her chair.

All eyes watched you as you made your way out of the tent, into the darkening sky. The lowering sun cast a beautiful variety of colors over the horizon. Pinks and oranges and yellows you swore you had never seen before. You tilted your head back, staring up at the sky and inhaling deeply.

You did not know why Larys’ words had bothered you so much. You knew you weren’t purposefully hidden away, that you weren’t a source of shame for your family– or were you?

The House of the Dragon needed to present a strong front. A sick, weak Princess did not exactly aid in that image.

You closed your eyes, exhaustion from the day creeping into your limbs. You fought to keep it at bay. Should you show even the smallest hint of fatigue, your father would whisk you back to the keep and never set you free again.

“Princess?”

A man’s voice, deep and warm and concerned. You opened your eyes, lowering your gaze from the sky. Harwin Strong was approaching you, brows scrunched together in worry.

“Are you alright?” He questioned and you nodded.

“Of course. Just getting some air.” You watched him as he came to a stop in front of you. He was handsomer up close, you thought. Deep brown eyes and messy hair.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Lord…?” You trailed off, knowing full well who he was thanks to Rhaenyra’s earlier words.

“Ser Harwin Strong, Princess.” He told you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Ser Harwin, of course,” you nodded. “I just met your brother. Interesting, to say the least.”

Harwin sighed. “Apologies for him, Princess. He has… a certain way with words.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “He certainly does. Tell me, Ser. Did you believe me to be part dragon before today?”

Harwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Of course not, Princess.”

“And did you think I was dead, and my family was lying about health?”

“No, Princess.” He confirmed, and you nodded.

“Even if you did, I doubt you would say so.” You gave a humorless laugh, but he shook his head.

“I would tell you the truth, Princess.”

“Even if it meant you’d hang?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Why?”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, his tongue flitting out to wet his lips as he pondered his words.

“Because you deserve the truth.”

You went quiet for a moment, averting your eyes back to the beautiful sky. Harwin’s gaze remained on you.

“Even if you were part dragon,” he spoke. “You would still be the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”

You looked back at him, a blush painting your cheeks pink as you searched for a hint of a lie in his expression. You found none.

When you didn’t say anything, he continued.

“Rhaenyra speaks of you, you know. To anyone who will listen. She’s told me of you more than once.”

“When do you speak to Rhaenyra?” You asked in surprise.

“It makes sense she would not tell you of such trivial matters,” he said. “I guard her from time to time.”

You nodded. That made sense. You knew you were guarded at all times, even if you rarely left your chambers. Of course Rhaenyra would be, too. Probably more so than you.

“Good things, I hope?” You asked, and Harwin grinned.

“Of course, Princess.”

“Good,” you smiled. “If she ever speaks bad about me, you tell me about it.”

He laughed at that, and you closed your eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit you once more.

“Princess?” Harwin’s voice was full of concern again as he reached a hand out to lightly touch your arm. “Are you alright?”

“Tired, Ser.” You inhaled deeply, trying to overcome the small feeling of nausea rising in your stomach.

“Should I fetch a maester?” Harwin asked, but you shook your head. You opened your eyes, reaching for his forearm as you slumped slightly. He supported you weight immediately, an arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright.

“I don’t need a maester. If you would just help me to my tent, that would be appreciated.”

“Of course, Princess. Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, I can walk,” you assured him. He nodded without question as the pair of you started in the direction of your tent.

“Thank you for this, Ser Harwin.”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You walked the rest of the way in silence, thankful for the darkness filling the camp to make your walk less obvious.

When you reached your tent, Harwin helped you inside and to the comfortable cot. He placed you gently onto it, taking a step back as he waited to see if you needed anything else.

“I believe I can take it from here, Ser. Once again, I thank you for this.” You looked at him, your expression sincere.

“No thanks needed, Princess. Whatever you need, I am here.”

You have a small nod as silence fell between the pair of you. After a moment, you spoke again.

“If you don’t mind Ser… please keep this between us. My father would–”

“No worries, Princess. I will take this to the grave if I must.” He gave you a dazzling grin, and it almost pained you to send him away.

He bid you goodnight before slipping out of the tent, and you watched him go, hoping you would see him again soon.

[letaliabane]

Loving Hands

The youngest daughter of King Viserys falls seriously ill. Perhaps the loving hand of the Commander can do so much to help.

genre: a bit of angst, mostly fluff. mention of minor character death. 

a/n: this was inspired by my mum who took care of me recently. I was very ill with a migraine, cramps and an uneasy stomach and she stayed by my side through it all. Made me think how ser harwin would take care of his lover! Enjoy!

word count: 4K

A violent cough escaped your lips before you could bring up your handkerchief to your mouth, it felt as if your chest was rattling shaking your whole entire body from the inside.

What once started out as a small cough and a simple cold had turned into something dreadfully worse but being as stubborn as you were, you never wanted to admit it. 

However, you began to feel weaker as the days drew on, your body sore as if you had gone horse riding for days on end, skin cold even as the sun beat down upon you. 

‘Are you well my lady?’ 

The gentle, but deep rumbling voice of your personal guard, Ser Harwin Strong, caught your attention as your cough finally eased. You waved him away with a small smile. 

‘I’m fine, Commander. Just a little cough is all, it will pass,’ You barely gasped out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

He came to your side, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes roamed your face. ‘I’ve heard and seen much sickness princess. If I may speak plainly, that does not sound like a normal cough.’

You scoffed but with a chuckle. 

Taking a brief look around for any stragglers that wondered the gardens, you clasped the Commander’s gloved hand into yours, squeezing it as you gave him your best smile. 

‘I’m perfectly alright Harwin, I promise.’ 

In the past few months, you and the heir to Harrenhal had become incredibly close. From childhood friends to something you couldn’t really put your finger on. 

His embrace was where you felt safest in the privacy of his chambers, his hands holding you as if you were made of glass, your own mapping out the scars that decorated his skin, memories left behind of the battles he had fought. 

Your titles would be forgotten and conversation would flow freely. Sometimes a kiss or two was shared but nothing more. And yet, you knew it was most definitely more than friends. 

He sighed heavily before smiling down you, letting his knuckles caress your cheek, ‘I only worry for you princess. That is all.’

‘But, I think I may call for the Maester once I have a nap. I’m feeling rather tired suddenly.’ 

‘As you wish my lady.’ 

His arm was out for you before you could ready yourself to stand up, gripping his forearm as you stood to your feet, his hand settling briefly on the small of your back to make sure you were steady before letting you go ahead. 

But as you made your way back towards the Red Keep, you knew something was amiss. You felt light, your sight fogged as if tears glazed your eyes. You let your head fall back and looked up through your lashes, the sky a smear of blues and clouds like a child’s painting. 

And then your world began to spin. 

‘H-Harwin?’ 

You were unconscious before your legs gave way, too far gone to feel a pair of arms wrap around you as you crumpled to the ground. 

Even in his condition, Viserys was fast as he limped down the corridor, Rhaenyra running ahead as the guards hurried to catch up to them. 

They burst through the doors of your room, coming upon the sight of the maids bustling around the bed, a Maester standing over you as you lay in bed.

‘Y/N?!’ 

Rhaenyra rushed to your side, ignoring the cries of the maids and Maester to stay away as she sat close to your side. The breath left her as she took in the sight of you. 

Your skin had paled from its beautiful glow to a dull grey, sweat glistening across your skin. The soft wheeze that left your lips every so often caught her attention, watching the low rise and fall of your chest. Even your hair had darkened from a beautiful white to ash. 

She gripped your hand in hers, pressing a kiss to it as Viserys hobbled to your bedside, a cloth held up to his mouth. ‘What is the matter with my daughter? I want an answer now!’ 

‘The Princess is down with influenza my King.’ The Maester was brave enough to speak up, coming to his side. Viserys looked at him in horror. 

‘How did this happen? She was perfectly healthy this morning at breakfast!’ 

The old man sighed. ‘Unfortunately, it is a wicked sickness that can turn fatal very quickly if not treated properly.’

‘Is there anything we can do for her now?’ Rhaenrya, who had been quietly listening to the Maester, asked, unable to tear her eyes away from her sister. 

‘I have given her the necessary medicines needed to treat such a sickness your Highness. For now we watch and pray that she makes it through the night, only then will we be able to tell how severe this really is.’ 

She nodded before Viserys looked around the room. ‘Who found Y/N? She was in the gardens this morning when I last saw her.’

‘She was your Majesty. The Commander was the one who was with her. He who brought her here and took care of her before I arrived.’ 

It was only then that the King and Rhaenyra finally caught sight of the man in the corner of the room, stock still as a statue, his eyes trained on the young woman now lying in bed barely moving. 

For how big he was, Harwin had moved like lighting through the Red Keep after you had collapsed, carrying your limp body in his arms and ignoring those who whispered and gasped.  

Had barked orders at the maids who had been moving about your room, ordering for the Maester and for the King and Princess be notified of your current state. 

He had immediately moved you to the bed, and with caution to thrown to the wind, removed the thick layers of your dress to leave you in your shift. Only when the Maester arrived had he backed off, fading into the corner of the room to observe. 

The King gave a nod to the Commander, words failing him as he looked to his youngest daughter once more. Pressing the cloth firmly over his mouth, he leant down, pressing his forehead against yours. 

‘Oh my darling girl, my sweet little one …’ 

Tears immediately filled Rhaenyra’s eyes as a mere whimper left your lips, gripping her father’s hand where it rested over yours. 

After their mother had passed, the two sisters made it their duty to remain close with their father, making the most of every day as his own sickness worsened. 

Losing mother was the greatest heartbreak, Rhaenyra knew if her father lost you too, it would surely be the death of him, and her too. 

The Maester shepherded everyone out of the room, looking towards the Commander who remained. He placed a hand on his shoulder, ‘Come now Ser Harwin. All we can do for now is let her rest and pray she makes it through the night.’ 

With a small push to his back, Harwin was led out of the room, his eyes remaining on you surrounded by your family, even as the door shut. 

The light had long faded from the skies as Harwin found himself pacing his room. It had been a few days since you had fainted in his arms, and still no word came with any improvements. 

He tried to distract himself; tried training, reading a book, visiting the garrison.

Yet all he could think of was you, laying in your bed and barely breathing. 

It brought memories of his own mother to mind, how as a young boy had stood in the doorway of his parents room. 

He had watched as his father tearfully whispered sweet words of goodbyes to his mother who lay cradled in his arms, her breath rattling and then fading into silence. 

Harwin couldn’t bare to watch another woman he loved so dearly perish the same way. 

First he visited the kitchens brightly lit by the torches alight, the fire dancing across the walls. The cooks and kitchen maids giving him a smile before returning to their duties. 

The head cook, Mrs Crooke, who had been in the midst of mixing a bowl of some sort of sauce, cheered at the sight of him, ambandoning her tools to embrace him heartily.  

‘My dear laddy look at you! Commander of the City Watch visiting little old me.’ She cried, cupping his cheek with a large grin. 

Harwin smiled, placing his hand over the woman’s. ‘Its good to see you again Mrs Crooke but I must ask you a favour. The Princess Y/N is incapacitated at the moment.’

Her hand fell to her heart, nodding, ‘Aye, we’ve heard she’s been taken ill the poor Lass.’ 

‘Well, that’s exactly why I’ve come to you.’ 

She raised her eyebrow in question and he continued, ‘I was wondering perhaps your broth would be able to help. I know she wouldn’t be able to eat anything heavy she wouldn’t be able to keep it down, so something light may at least keep her well for the time being.’ 

The old woman couldn’t help but smile, taking in the mistiness of the Commander’s eyes and worry written in his expression. She took his hand in hers. ‘You care for her don’t you lad?’

Harwin wanted to deny it. 

If anyone found out it would be seen as incredibly out of line, even treasonous. He didn’t care what happened to him, he just didn’t want to see Y/N hurt or unhappy. And yet, in that moment, he couldn’t help but nod. 

Mrs Crooke nodded, immediately turning to the other kitchen maids with a clap of her hands. 

‘Take over here ladies, a special order is needed for the Princess Y/N!’ 

Harwin made his way to Y/N’s chambers, armour now removed, carefully holding a marble bowl of cold water, a cloth thrown over his arm. The guard that stood at your chambers briefly looked at him, Harwin recognising him as one of his own men, he nodded to him. 

‘I’m here to attend to the Princess.’ 

For a moment the guard hesitated, and fear brewed within the Commander’s belly. 

He trusted his men, however he knew that no matter how loyal a man could be to his duty, a price could always overturn it. There were spies and traitors working for the corrupt within Kings Landing, they easily could spin this mere event into something far worse. 

However, the fear ebbed away as soon as the guard nodded to him, opening the door for him. 

Harwin quickly made his way over to the bedside, placing the bowl down. His glanced nervously over to you. 

Sweat drenched your shift, hair matted against your face. The rasp in your lungs had worsened, and it made his heart clench as you gasped for air, groaning deliriously. 

‘Oh my love,’ He whispered, pushing your hair away from your face, pressing his palm to your cheek. Your eyes briefly flickered towards him, sighing before falling quiet once more. 

Harwin couldn’t help but press his lips to your temple in comfort, heart clenching at the warmth that prickled beneath his lips. 

Quickly he picked up the cloth he had brought, folding it before dipping it into the water, letting it soak for a moment before bringing it to your skin. A whimper left your lips but he pressed on, wiping away any trace of sweat that he could see.

Leave the cloth to rest on your head, he reached into the pouch on his belt pulling out a small vial of oil. Pouring a generous amount into the centre of his palm, rubbing his hands together, eyes never leaving your face as you rested. 

Harwin leant over you letting his hands rest against your neck, unable to hold back his smile as you keened beneath his touch. He began to massage around your jaw, your neck and just above your collarbones. 

His hands wondered down your arms to your hands, taking one in his grasp and letting his thumb follow the lines that were etched into your palm before taking the other and doing the same. 

‘Ser Harwin!’ He turned to find one of the young maids at the door, ‘i’m sorry I didn’t think anyone would be here Commander! I just came to check in on the Princess.’

He gave her a nod in greeting, standing to his feet. 

‘At ease Maisley, it’s okay. I’m seeing to that the Princess is well looked after. Her fever has gone down considerably since I arrived. I would suggest helping her change into a new shift, she may grow uncomfortable when she awakens.’

She nodded, hurrying around the room. Even when she brought over the partition to obscure the bed from sight, Harwin turned his back to it, not wanting to make either of the ladies uncomfortable. 

When a cough disrupted the silence, he looked up at the sight of one of the kitchen hands carrying a tray in the doorway.

‘The broth you requested Commander,’ The young boy announced, nodding to the black pot that sat beside the bowl of steaming broth, ‘Mrs Crooke also thought it best to also give some mint ginger tea, said it would help get her back to health in no time.’ 

‘Thank you, and give my thanks to Mrs Crooke once more. Let her know I will visit as soon as the moment arises,’ He said as he took it with a smile, the boy bowed to him before making his way out of the room. 

Harwin placed the tray down on the bedside table once Maisley began to move the partition away to reveal you adorning a new shift, replacing the old one which she held in her grasp. She turned to the Commander.

‘Will that be all Ser Harwin? Anything else you may need?’ 

He smiled towards her. ‘Not at the moment thank you Maisley, go get some rest.’  

The young maid bowed to him before also taking her leave, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

‘Harwin?’ 

Whipping around, he found you staring up at him sluggishly, eyes barely open, a hand reaching out to him. 

‘I’m here my love, I’m right here,’ He caressed your cheek, eyes softening as you even in your sickened state, leant into his touch. 

You smiled up at him, but it faded as you took in your shift, the heaviness of your chest evident, glancing around to recognise your own chambers.  

‘What happened? I-I remember us in the gardens and—’

‘It’s okay Y/N, you're safe.’ He hushed you, turning your face towards his, keeping his hand on your neck to keep you steady. ‘You were ill and fainted, I brought you to your room and the Maester took a look at you.’

Slowly the panic eased from your body, leaning back into the warmth of your bed, watching as Harwin picked up the steaming bowl from your bedside table. 

‘You must eat, you need to keep your strength up.’

‘I’m not hungry Harwin, I’m just so sleepy …’ 

‘How about you eat just a little, then you can get some more rest? For my sake?’ 

You chuckled quietly at his child-like request, carefully trying to sit up. Harwin was quick to assist, a brief squeak leaving you as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you up to lean against the headboard and adjusting the pillow to accomodate you. 

When you reached for the spoon, he was quick to pull away with a shake of his head and wearing a smirk, bringing the warm spoon to your lips. 

‘I may be sick, Harwin, but I am not lame,’ You croaked only for your words to splutter as you coughed roughly, feeling his hand rub soothingly across your back. 

When the coughing lessened, and your wheezing quietened, Harwin gently said as he brushed your hair back, ‘That may be so, but let me take care of you my love.’ 

Too tired to resist, you allowed him to feed a few spoons of broth. Even with your mouth feeling dry and tastebuds dulled, you enjoyed the rich chicken, rosemary and thyme that broke through; munching quietly on some of the carrots, potatoes and onion as he watched attentively. 

Soon enough the bowl was empty, and Harwin was setting it aside before easing you back against the bed, your eyes now drooping sleepily. As he pulled back, your hand shot to his, gripping his fingertips weakly. 

‘Please don’t go Harwin …’ You gasped, ‘I-I don’t want to be alone.’

Harwin’s heart broke, bending so he was looking into your eyes. ‘I’ll be only a moment darling, I just want to stoke the fire.’

‘Hmm, it is cold ...’ You whimpered. Harwin’s brow furrowed quickly placing the back of his hands against your forehead only to curse. Your fever had returned, and worse it seemed. 

Quickly, he rushed around the room. Tossing a few new logs and kindling into the grand fireplace, he stoked at the flames until it was roaring and heat swarmed the room. 

Returning to kneel at your side, he grabbed the soaking cloth once more, gently dabbing it across your face. A trembling cry left your lips, a tear slipping down your cheek. 

‘Please don’t leave me ...’

‘I’ll be here beloved,’ He whispered shakily against your cheek where he laid a soft kiss, running his fingertips through your hair. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Leaning his forehead against yours, he silently prayed, asking the seven—or whatever force was present—to stay their hand and leave you be. He wouldn’t allow them to take you so easily.

The next morning after yet another restless night of anxious thoughts, Rhaenyra accompanied her father towards her sisters room like she had for the last few days. 

When she had tried to get closer to aid Y/N where she could, the Maesters and maids held her back, not wanting the heir to the throne to avoid potentially catching the sickness. 

It had angered her that she could not help her sister, instead ordering those who were present to do all they could for her. She could only hope that her sister had made improvement. 

When the door to your chambers opened, a gasp left Rhaenyra’s lips, but this time out of shocked delight. 

You were now sitting up in bed with your hair tied back sipping at what she presumed to be tea, revealing the colour that had returned to your cheeks, wearing a smile at the sight of your father and sister. 

Just like days previous, Rhaenyra ran to her sister ignoring the cries of the maids and Maesters, jumping across the bed to pull you into a fierce, tight hug. You couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning your cheek against her head. 

‘Sister you are fool to let yourself get ill so easily!’ Your sister cried, shaking you as if to bring clarity to your mind.

Smiling, you pulled away to look at her, only to sigh at the tears evident in her eyes. You pressed your hands to her cheeks. ‘I am sorry I worried you Nyra. You know how stubborn I can get in my own ways.’ 

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but shake with quiet laughter before pressing her lips to your forehead, letting your head rest on her shoulder. 

At the sound of a familiar cane striking against stone, you looked up to see your father at your side, tears streaming down his face. 

‘Oh father!’ 

Pulling away once more from your sister, you embraced your father, tears of your own springing to your eyes as his hand came up to run through your hair, also pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

‘My dear sweet girl,’ He whispered to you, ‘thank the gods that you are okay!’

‘There is someone you should thank though father.’ 

When your father pulled away in confusion, you nodded with a smile towards the man that once more stood in the far corner,  hands clasped in front of him as he observed the room. 

‘The Commander nursed me back to health. Had broth made and brought to me, eased my fever, and watched over me during the night.’

Harwin gave a nod to you, deep shadows sat beneath his eyes, tiredness straining at his limbs, but he would do it all over again just to see the way you smiled at him. 

‘Ser Harwin,’ Viserys limps towards the Commander, leaning heavily on his cane as his hand came down on the man’s shoulder, ‘Thank you my boy. I will forever be in your debt for taking such care of my daughter.’ 

Harwin smiled briefly, bowing to the King. ‘Not at all your majesty, I only do what is best to keep the Princess safe as it is my duty. I’ve dealt with a lot of sickness in my life, I did not want to see her go through the same suffering that I’ve seen others go through. I must say, the Princess has an enduring spirit, she fought hard.’ 

You ducked your head with a shy smile, feeling a sudden nudge to look up at Rhaenyra who raised her eyebrow with a small smirk and you couldn’t help but giggle, hiding your face against her shoulder. 

It was a day later you found yourself fully recovered, out of bed and dressed in a stunning blue dress, you left the confines of your room. 

After some business had been attended to, you rushed out of your father’s room with excitement. Harwin stood in the corridor, his head turning towards you as you rushed towards him. 

‘Ser Harwin, it is good to see you on such a beautiful day.’ 

‘Princess,’ He bowed his head in greeting to you with a smile, ‘I’m happy to see you doing so well.’

Quickly looking around, you took his hand, pulling him along with you. At first he was hesitant, looking around once more before following you into a small alcove, dimly lit by the sunshine that fell through from the corridor. 

You turned to him, nervously picking at your nails as you glance up at him. ‘I wanted to thank you for taking care of me Harwin.’ 

‘Princess—‘ At your raised eyebrow, he corrected himself, ‘Y/N you do not need to thank me.’ 

‘But I do, because I know you didn’t need to take care of me the way you did. I need to know ... why you did it.’ 

For a moment he stared at you silently before sighing. Stepping forward slowly he removed his gloves tucking them into his belt, taking your hand into his. 

‘Seeing you in that bed brought back memories I never want to see again. My mother s-she,’ He closed his eyes briefly before looking down at you, ‘She died of influenza. I watched her leave us in the arms of my father, the one woman able to ease his heart gone in a matter of days. And I couldn’t let you go.’ 

You felt his thumb trace the lines of your palm, but your eyes did not stray from his, your hand immediately reaching for his cheek to wipe away the tears that fell. 

Leaning into your touch, he tipped your chin up as he brought his forehead to yours. ‘I couldn’t lose the woman I love to that, not again. You are the one thing that gives me meaning and purpose. Upon my vow, I will do everything in my power to ensure you are safe and loved.’

A small gasp left your lips after hearing his words, his breath batting against your skin. Without hesitating, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your hand still resting against his cheek.

Sighing against your lips, Harwin’s hand fell from your chin to rest against your waist pulling you even closer. When you parted, his nuzzled his nose against yours affectionately making you laugh. 

‘Oh how I missed that sound.’ 

You smiled sweetly up at him, pushing away the wild curls that obscured his beautiful eyes from your sight. 

‘I went to see my father today, told him of my desire to marry you,’ You whispered against his lips, smiling as he pulled away in shock, ‘I must warn you, Rhaenyra also has put in a good word for you to him. She believes you’ve already proved yourself enough.’

Harwin felt as if he was in a dream, the blood thumping in his veins fuelled by the happiness that wrapped around his heart. 

‘Have I ever told you how I love you?’ 

You laughed, gripping his hand between you. ‘You showed with your actions, they spoke so loudly and showed me how incredible of a man you are. One that I would like to have as my husband.’

Harwin smiled widely, letting his head fall to your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle as his nose brushed your skin, lips pressing against below your collarbone where he felt the pulse of your heartbeat. 

A loud squeal left your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off your feet, spinning you around laughing heartily.

As history came to pass, people would know how Harwin Strong’s greatest honour was the love he held for his wife, Princess Y/N Targaryen and their children. And from that day onward, as he had vowed, Harwin protected, loved and ensured your happiness for the rest of your days. 

harwin masterlist  -  masterlist

a/n: this turned out SO much longer than I expected it to. 

tagged (if your tag isn't working DM me and we'll try and fix it up!): @thesithdiaries @dazecrea @ppeuppeuppeu @a-sunflower-in-bloom @ladystrongofharrenhall @ccallistata @agoldin @vivilingme-blog @my-dark-prince @derzauberermitlilabademantel @blooomsstuff @starxdame @alexslittlegirl  @budugu @piper570 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @words-way-of-life  @m1tzifa1ry @gibbsgirl7 @b0xfullofdarkness @hueanhdang @criesinsagitarius @nicolewithanee @starxqt @ateliefloresdaprimavera @akilababs @lakamaa12 @iwillboilyourteeth @littlebirdgot @venus2eros @akinatrix @rainazinha @missusnora @hadesismybaby-reacts ​ @lucyysthings ​ @whiterosesblackroses ​​ @b3nzeynep @rosemalachi 

[inklore]

you are now legally required to supply me with some harwin smut

bewitching

pairing: harwin strong x princess!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with very little plot, f receiving oral, daddy harwin eats pussy like it’s his last meal, he’s literally in love with reader, mutual pining, marking, reader can ride dragons therefore was written with being a targaryen in mind, insinuated that reader is a virgin, brief mentions of masturbation and dirty talk.

etc: could never say no to you my lovey, i hope this filth serves you well <3 it’s my first time writing in the got world so go easy on me!

“Ser—” the princess’ gasp is barely above that of a whisper, but in the desolate halls the sound echoes off the stone like a melody wrapped in silk, that lands at the heart of his desire and the head of his cock. “Harwin.”

“Do you wish me to stop, princess?”

Gods he prayed not, as his eyes looked down at you. The heavy heave of your chest—of the bare breast he just had in his mouth, tongue swirling, lips wrapped around your nipple.

A brief taste; longing looks from across crowded gatherings and fields, conversations that held more tension than a cast iron, that wicked smile that could bring forth the strongest of men to drop down in front of you—is all it took for a festering wound of affliction to blister deep in Ser Harwin Strong’s bravado.

If you were to push him away, to put an end to this, he’d go without trife. Happily give his princess what she wanted. You were not something to be conquered. To persuade. To overcome. You had become more to the Commander of the City Watch than he should have allowed on good conscience.

The magnetism that drew the two of you together finally coming to a head. Finally letting him press your back to the stone wall and seize his mouth to yours, his palms on your cheeks gentle when he felt the frenzy within his veins to swallow you whole.

To finally show you why he had dark circles rounding his eyes, sleep only finding him when your face was behind his eyelids—waking him in the late hours of the night in a hot sweat and a throbbing cock.

You held the reins of more than just dragons. Over Kings Landing. Over meek men who thought wrongly in thinking they deserved to breathe the same air as you, let alone ask to wed you.

“No,” you sigh. Pushing the heat between your legs along his thigh, the warmth burning through to his skin. Making his throat bob, “don’t stop, please.”

Harwin had no interest in making his princess beg. Plead.

He was here to serve you. To please you. To aid you in your own pleasure. To take honor in you letting him touch, taste, have you in this way like no other has before.

You held the reins over him; his lust, his desire, his affliction to simply be next to you. You had encompassed his mind, body and soul. And even the strongest of men cannot resist the bewitching of such a maiden with beauty and power.

You bring him to his knees like a wielded sword that he’s all too eager and willing to succumb to.

And as he moves down your trembling figure to his knees, pushing up your night dress, pulling your leg over his shoulder—his mouth moving along the inside of your thigh, teeth sinking in, your hips jutting, whimpers leaving your lips; he knows he holds those same reins over you.

That his affliction was yours.

That if he so desired he could have your front pressed to the stone and you’d let him take you with his cock right here. Fucking into your tight heat, palm over your mouth; you would beg then, plead for more.

A need appeased for the both of you.

He’d love nothing more.

A thought for next time. Right now, having you wither against his mouth as he runs a stripe up your wet folds, lips wrapping around that bud that has your fingers wrapping in his curls and tugging—is what his princess needs, what he needs.

The nightly images of you trembling below and against his broad frame, that flashed behind his eyes with his hand around his cock late at night, were mere delusions compared to the look of pleasure you were giving him each time your eyes looked down upon his.

Each time the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit, his grip on your thighs bruising, the deep grunt that vibrates through the halls each time he thinks of the marks he could be leaving on your skin to remember for later—the same mark you have left on his being.

He’d make the marks on your soft skin just as permanent, if you let him. If you allowed him between your legs again.

He would worship at his knees for the whole kingdom to see. Show his honor and devotion in the swipe of his tongue or the thrust of his cock, if it meant being beside you.

Having you. He'd beat down a million men, bloodied and hanging onto their lives the way your fingers are clinging to his shoulder, as your hips pump against his face.

“Ahh,” you gasp as he slips a thick finger in your tight heat. His finger twisting and pumping in time with his mouth against your folds, your clit, no part of your cunt going untouched by his tongue.

He wonders if this was your intention all along, when you slipped from your bed and down the desolate halls so late at night. Were you looking for him? The glint of happiness when you saw him round the corner was enough for him to have his mouth on you within seconds.

There’s a burning need in his gut to pull his mouth from your sex and press it against yours again, to feel those lips that tell the most beautiful tales, that speak his name like a lullaby—to silence you so you’re not caught; a death sentence that does little to put fear in him, but excitement instead.

When Harwin adds another finger it takes the restraint of a strong man not to pull you down onto him, to not plea to be inside those same walls that are gripping his fingers in a vice. Your moans growing louder as he fucks you with them with more vigor.

And when you finally come undone against his mouth, the way you gasp his name like you’re speaking to the Gods themselves, Harwin knows that he’s ours.

“Take me to bed,” his princess breathes against his mouth as he licks into yours, letting you taste your own sweetness.

“Yeah?” His grin is overzealous, hips grinding into your still throbbing heat, his leathers unable to conceal the thickness of his cock. Your eyes going wide at the lengthy drag of it against you, wariness in your eyes. His voice low against your lips, “it’ll fit, trust me princess. I have you. If you’re certain.”

Your nod is slow but sure. A kiss pressed to his wet mouth in certainty.

He will take your virtue and make it his own with the gentlest of licks from his mouth and strokes of his hips.

Never had he imagined himself to be a soft man. A man willing to go slow with the tide when an animalistic necessity of power went along with his given name.

But for his princess, softness is all he held.

There would come a time where heavy thrusts and rough fingers would be dug into your soft skin. But tonight the gentleness that came with savoring the moment is what you both needed.