#the vizzy fan child!

[harwinsgirl]

The White Sheep - Harwin Strong X Reader, Part Two

Part Two of The White Sheep!

I wanted to say right off the bat that I hope it’s okay that this chapter sets up some backstory. I wanted to establish a relationship between the reader and Viserys. I’ll get started on part three soon, which will focus on the wedding! Lots of Harwin fluff there, for now we have more angst.

(Big fan of our boy Vizzy T, I promise he’ll get better, he’s just in his feelings a bit. Also still on mobile so apologies if the formatting gets wonky)

When you were a young girl, not much older than eight years old, you stumbled past the dining hall and heard the unmistakable laughter of your father. Pressing your small frame against the wall, you were able to hear his conversation through the wooden door, which had been partially left open by one of the attending servants. You took great care in remaining out of sight as you peered into the room. Your father was talking to a man you scarcely recognized along with two young boys that were most likely his sons. You had internally chided yourself for not paying more attention when the palace had received its most recent guests, for you could not recall their names or even their house. But you were a child, your mind preoccupied with the newly expanded library and the wildflowers blooming outside your window and your sister’s brand new gown that had golden stitching along the wrists. What were boys to you?

“So I might marry Rhaenyra?” The youngest boy asked through a forkful of lamb.

That earned a round of chuckles from everyone else at the table. Presumably his father, the man shook his head and clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Aye, not you lad. The honor would go to your brother. You would take the other princess, the quiet one.”

The boy let out a whine and tossed his fork down, the clatter sending bits of meat across the table. “But she’s boring!”

There was no laughter this time. “Watch yourself boy,” his father hissed. “That’s the king’s daughter you’re insulting!”

“He’s right though father,” the elder boy replied, “She’s had her nose in a book the entire time. I don’t think I’ve heard her speak to any of us since we arrived. It’s no wonder he has no interest.”

Viserys had been eyeing the boys carefully since the first comment had been made, chewing slowly. He proceeded to unsheathe his dagger and feign interest in it, pretending to inspect the blade. “Do you know what this is made of, boys?”

“Valyrian steel.” The older boy responded, as if reciting an answer for an exam. The younger one mumbled in agreement.

“Right you are, Valyrian steel. Everyone knows of its strength. But sometimes you need to see up close,” Viserys paused and grabbed an apple from the table, slicing a piece of skin off so precisely and quickly that it landed on the young boy’s cheek, “just how deadly and unforgiving it could be.”

“It’s not the only thing in the Red Keep that possesses those qualities either.” With a terrifying grin, Viserys chuckled and bit into the apple. You noted how the children’s faces had paled, the youngest one not daring to move a muscle, even though the fruit was still sticking to his skin. “A word of advice to you lads. Never insult a daughter in front of her father. You’ll find that there are things more unforgiving than a blade.”

As you turned on your heel to leave, you could hear the old lord laugh uncomfortably and utter apologies and the sound of chairs sliding against the cold floor, signaling that the meal was being hastily adjourned. You couldn’t help but walk away with a small smile on your lips. Your father proved right then and there that you were enough for him. That you were loved and cherished as his daughter. It’s a memory that has kept you warm these many years, bringing you comfort during council meetings, feasts, tourneys, and other events where you had been pigeonholed as the second daughter, the quiet one, the white sheep.

Viserys was a very busy man, often leaving you wondering how he truly felt about you. The king was not known for his outward expressions of love but it was easy for anyone to see how proud he was of your sister Rhaenyra. At a young age she was already equipped with fiery personality that captured the hearts of many people across the realm. But you were just a child who happened to be born into a dynasty. At the end of the day you were grateful to have a sister and father that you loved very much. All you wanted was for them to be happy, especially after your mother and brother had passed. Everyone in your family felt those losses strongly but you had internalized your pain, resulting in a sense of personal responsibility for your family’s happiness. It’s why you felt most comfortable saying nothing at all and choosing hobbies that caused little strife. It’s why you always said yes to your father’s requests and why your refusal to marry as of late seemed to agitate him more than Rhaenyra’s outbursts. You were the good child as your sister would say, which was intended as either a compliment or a demeaning remark depending on her mood. “I may very well put father in the grave with my antics,” she mused to you one time, “but if anything I know is true, it’s that father will always love you.”

You were hoping that love would be enough to temper the storm that had been brewing ever since you accepted Harwin’s proposal. He had escorted you back to your chambers and bid you goodnight with a tender kiss and a promise to return for you the following morning. The fire in your belly from the night’s events allowed sleep to elude you, your eyes fixated on the silver ring that adorned your finger. Excitement eventually dwindled as fear of your father’s reaction began to take root in your mind. On the one hand, he could’ve been overjoyed that you actually showed interest in marriage and that you had chosen a respectable husband, one who had proven himself as dutiful and loyal. But more than likely he was going to be displeased due to not being offered a say in the matter, as removing you from the marriage market meant that certain advantageous matches could no longer be considered. You were, after all, a Princess of Dragonstone, which still held a significant amount of value. It hadn’t bothered you much as a child, the feeling of being a pawn, a bargaining chip to be offered to a man of a great house. For a time, it actually made you feel important. Now you realized you only felt that way because you had nothing to lose.

The ring on your finger reminded you that was no longer the case.

Harwin kept his promise and arrived at your door after you had been served breakfast. You didn’t even register the quip he made about your full plate; the fact that you were too nervous to eat was not lost on him. You suddenly felt yourself being held against his chest as he embraced you in a tight hug, his head dipping down to your neck as he whispered gentle, sweet words into your ear. He hummed softly as he started to spin you around, his hand trailing down to your waist as he kept you close. Tears sprang to your eyes when you realized the song he had begun to sing was a song you had not heard since your mother had passed. A gentle lullaby about a bird in summertime returning for his love;

“Darling, know my love for thee

Two sweetlings in a maple tree

Though I leave on a summer’s eve

I ask my love to wait for me

Darling, know my love for thee

And when the leaves begin to fall

I will fly across the sea

When I hear my lover’s call”

He had begun to let go but you clung to him tighter, pressing your face against the cold breastplate of his armor. Harwin planted a kiss on your forehead and rested his head against yours.

“As much as I feel as though I could live in this moment forever, we should meet your father before he begins to worry.” He murmured softly.

“I don’t think I can do this, I don’t think I can face him,” you whispered. “I’m not strong enough.”

“My beloved,” Harwin said, his hand raising your chin up towards him, his eyes searching yours, “You are strong, and our love is a cause worth fighting for. You know this to be true.” More genuine, heartfelt words were spoken but you could no longer hear them, the feeling of terrible weightlessness overwhelming you. Misery had taken hold of you and would not let go.

You appreciated Harwin’s efforts to calm you but you were still wary, and rightfully so. Dread coursed throughout your entire body as the two of you began to walk down the corridor. Every step that led towards the throne room felt torturous, the sound of your feet upon the cobblestone floor reminding you of the dull thump of a nail into a coffin. Harwin squeezed your arm reassuringly and you paused briefly to glance up at him. The words he spoke to you moments before in the privacy of your room echoed in your ears again, although it felt like the first time.

“No matter what, I will fight for us. For you.”

“Say the word and we leave now. Together.”

“If this is my end, I will find a way back to you. Your love has saved my life and I believe in its power to do it again.”

He smiled at you and gestured forward, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Come, my lady. It’s time.”

The heavy doors creaked open and revealed your father’s silhouette on the throne, his form being partially shrouded by the sunlight. Lyonel Strong was positioned at the base of the steps, his arms clasped together. He acknowledged the two of you with a brief nod. You returned the gesture in kind, although guilt started to flood your thoughts soon after. He was likely not to approve of the marriage either. You had hoped that the honorable hand of the king would be spared, free from any repercussions caused by your actions. It hadn’t quite occurred to you just how many people could be affected by this decision.

Your heart sank further into your stomach.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my youngest?” Viserys said in greeting. “And as always, it is good to see you Ser Harwin. You look to be in good health.”

“Father, Ser Harwin wishes to ask you something.” You announced, swallowing thickly. Harwin stepped forward and kneeled down before his father and his king, bowing respectfully before raising his head and stating his request.

“Your Grace, I humbly ask to resign from your kingsguard, effectively removing myself from the position of the princess’s guardian.”

Harwin’s plea was met with silence. Viserys was still for a moment before a hint of a smile formed on his lips. He turned to Lyonel and quipped, “My apologies to you old friend, for whatever my daughter has done to frighten your behemoth of a son.” All credit was due to Lord Strong, whose casual laughter at the remark disguised the fear in eyes all too well. A thousand questions lingered between father and son, the air growing thick with tension.

“There is only one reason why I would choose to walk away from this role, Your Grace,” Harwin continued, his voice steady and firm. “I have fallen in love, and I intend to marry.”

In a swift response, your father began clapping, quirking an eyebrow at Lyonel when he did not follow suit. “Well now son, don’t keep us in suspense!” Viserys laughed, his hand moving to rest under his chin. “Tell us the name of the lass.”

“It’s me.” You said gently.

The world went silent for a moment.

If birds were singing, notes were lost in their throats. Waves ceased crashing. Even the flames in the torches flicked upwards in a soundless dance.

“Say that again child.” Viserys demanded.

“I am his intended. We would like to be married.” You stated, your voice unwavering. “I have never loved a man so deeply-“

“Do not speak of love!” Viserys thundered. “Not to me, not in this room, not ever!” Your father stood up, his mouth growing taut and rigid with anger. “I cannot believe what I am hearing!”

“Why is that father?” You challenged, walking towards the steps of the throne. You had hoped, prayed that he would understand. Now you were seeing that this conversation would be no easy feat. But it was your life, and your love, and you would die at his feet defending it if you had to, if it truly came down to it. “Why is it that only you get to experience true love? Do you think mother would be pleased to know that you are treating her daughters like cattle to be sold off to the highest bidder?”

“Your mother was dutiful!” Viserys snapped back, pointing his finger at you. “She knew of responsibility! She would not approve of you making such a decision behind your father’s back! A decision that is not yours to make!”

“I should have a say!” You cried out, waving your arms in exasperation. “You afforded Rhaenyra such rights!”

“Rights that she will surely lose after this incident,” Viserys said icily. “I may be your father, but I am also your lord and king. Your future lies within my hands girl, not yours. What if I had betrothed you to another already? What would you have me do then? Do you expect me to start a war over this union? All for you to marry a man that can only offer you a blackened estate?”

“It’s either Harwin Strong or no man at all,” you said defiantly, “Too long have I spent in the shadow of my sister, only to be feasted on by aging lords or young sons who only seek the power of our name. Too long have I spent biting my tongue, agreeing to whims of your council simply because it made me appear more sensible and obedient. I am a Targaryen and I promise you if I am not allowed this wish, the only wish I have ever asked for you to grant, I swear that you will bear witness to my fury.”

There was no council to offer. Lyonel Strong remained stoic, his eyes trained on his eldest son. All he could do was wait to see if his child would be cut down in front of him or dragged away to be hung for treason. How he managed to raise a son who was completely ruled by his heart was unfathomable. There should’ve been some logic that screamed at Harwin to not do this, to understand that not every love can be fully realized, that duty and honor comes above all else. But Lyonel’s son continued to bend the knee, his blue eyes unblinking as he stared at the furious king, ready to accept any consequence from his actions.

Viserys had gone still, his body no longer shaking with rage. All the more terrifying, in your opinion. He studied you both for moments that felt like eternity. Your mind should have been preoccupied with your fate, which seemed to be undecided at the moment, but all you could think about was the memory of the dining hall. Faceless boys who witnessed the quiet wrath of your father, all because they dared to speak ill of you. Where was that love? Why was he filled with so much rage? Why couldn’t he see that Harwin would give you the love that he had once told you that you were worthy of? Your heart leapt at the thought of telling him how Harwin defended you in the city, but the words died in your throat when Viserys addressed the two of you with the most callous and cold words he could manage.

“You may marry. Marry the Strong boy, marry your handmaiden, marry a rat for all I care. I will not witness the ceremony. Perform this atrocity outside of the Keep, and commit these halls to your memory child, for it may be the last time you see them.”

“Father!” You cried out, your arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to reach him. But drawn swords from his guards formed a cross, preventing you from moving closer. He descended the steps quickly and brushed past you, not even chancing a look at you as he left the room, the doors closing shut with a deafening finality.

Harwin immediately took you into his arms, shushing you as you began to weep. Kissing your hair, flooding you with words of encouragement, holding you upright in his arms when your knees buckled. Moments later, a voice could be heard over your wracked sobs. “Pity I did not get to witness you defend your betrothed in front of her father,” Lyonel said with mock thoughtfulness. “it felt as if you left her to the wolves.”

You wiped at your eyes and took a deep breath. Harwin took a brief moment to study your eyes, only turning to face his father after you mouthed that you would be okay. “My lady spoke for herself and I am proud of her.” Harwin finally replied, shooting daggers at his father. “I would gladly give my life for her if it were asked of me.”

“It very well could have been asked of you, you fool!” Lyonel snapped. “You ruined this poor girl’s life and there is no going back on this, boy. Nothing I can say will bring you back into the king’s good graces. I may not even be able to escape his wrath. Did you stop to think about that before you asked for her hand? How many lives are you willing to risk for this?”

“I swore my duty and I did it well,” Harwin bit back, “You know I have done well. I have been the perfect son for god knows how long. I left Harrenhal and began training at your request. I accepted a life that would not allow me to start a family at your insistence. I would’ve continued to serve the king for all of my days, and in the end it would’ve been all for you. My whole life reduced to the boundaries set forth by you until I’m left to rot in the earth. No longer. I will not apologize for seeking happiness. And I will not turn my back on my beloved. Not for you, not for the king, not for anyone.”

Harwin stood tall, his chin raised, silently challenging Lyonel to continue the argument. To his surprise, he was met with a tight embrace instead, his father squeezing him like it might be the last time they would ever touch. “I believe the king’s advice goes for the both of you,” Lyonel said, breaking apart from his son as he shared a concerned look with the two of you. He sighed heavily and shook his head. “God knows if we will ever see your faces within these walls again.”

Lyonel departed along with the last of your father’s kingsguard, leaving you alone with your betrothed. You staggered toward to steps before collapsing onto them, your hands raking through your hair as you began to process what had happened. Harwin stood before you, looking contemplative.

“Do you regret this?” He asked suddenly.

“What? Telling my father?” You answered, slightly perplexed. While it had not gone as you had hoped, it had to happen. Marrying in secret would’ve had far worse consequences and you both knew that.

“No. I meant me. Choosing me.” Harwin said quietly.

You couldn’t help but smile a little at that. Many would look at Harwin and would assume him to be full of confidence. He was rugged, strong, attractive. Until a moment ago, the strongest knight in the kingsguard. A flash of his smile could capture your heart if you left it unattended. But there was more to him than that, layers and nuances that only you were allowed to see. He trusted you with these parts of him and all of his insecurities too. His doubts manifested in questions like this, although this query had been the most serious so far. If only he knew how much you adored him, and for just how long. If only he knew how he set your whole body ablaze the day you two met in the very same room you found yourselves in. How afternoons in the garden together had been blissful in such an excruciating way. Your time was spent falling in love with a man you believed to be out of reach. A languid breeze, the sounds of the wind passing through the trees, and a sleepy knight propped up beside you against the godswood. You had chosen him right then and there, all those years ago, loving him with your whole heart ever since.

You took your hand and placed it against his cheek. Harwin closed his eyes and leaned into your palm, nuzzling it gently as you began to speak.

“I only existed before you. And now, its as if I get to live. You are my reason for being, Harwin. I would do this all over again if I had to. My heart is yours. I think it always has been.”

Harwin breathed heavily before leaning down and pressing a searing kiss to your lips, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth when you gasped. Holding you by your hip, Harwin kissed you again and again, his tongue rolling over yours and teasing your lips whenever you began to pull away for air. Finally he broke the kiss, only to cause you to squeal when he bent down and scooped you into his arms, carrying you the way a man holds his bride. Blowing a piece of hair from his face, he gazed at you with a fiery intensity and a breathtaking smile to match.

“By the gods woman, I am marrying you tonight.”

[deustux]

Okay so I need to get this off my chest but I have a massive issue with people making accounts to shit on others for critism. Like just an account dedicated to being an anti to someone for stupid reasons. The ONLY reason you should need to make an anti account is for someone who is genuinely causing harm and doing harmful shit to people.

Example being Jk Rowling. She has created a very bad environment for trans people and keeps spouting harmful and dangerous shit about them which is making the trans community more indangered as she is fear mongering. And is talking utter BS about them creating a terrible narrative of trans people to people who don't know about the community or already have a bad opinion of them. That's a good reason to make an account exposing the terrible lies and harmful narrative She's created.

BUT creating an entire account to hate on someone like idk Vizziepop is just pathetic. You can call out the stupid things she has said and done in the past but to make an entire account on her and taking every little thing she has said and done is just horrible especially when the male Co writer has said a lot worse. (Seriously I love Brandon Rodgers but just hating on vizziepop for the things she's done when he has more offensive content on YouTube vs Vizzie who posted on twitter where its harder to find her tweets than Brandon's very public and very famous channel is so weird.)

Jacksfilms did a good example of this since with his channel he made VALID criticism of sssniperwolf without bringing in any of her old drama to prove that he's not out for blood or to cause issues but to show her what she's doing wrong. He makes videos to give credit to the creators she's stolen from and even gives criticism on her editing. He never is rude about her looks and he never insults her personally but just critise her work.

Ofc making an anti account of Ssniperwolf would be good as she's done horrible Shit. Such as lying about someone being a sex offender cause he critised her work, ignoring a dying fan when she promised the mother to facetime her but kept making excuse but happily spent an hour on twitter defending her self when that time could of been used on the child.

She made children twerk for her on omegle saying she'd show them her tits if she did, she also got a teen girl to show her tits to her. Been transphobic and sexist to other women. Happily put down women for their looks. She's been arrested for assault and armed robbery (You can find her criminal record as proof I'll put it down here when I find it.) And much more.

TLDR: stop making anti accounts for stupid drama and critism. Only make anti accounts for people who are actually harming people and communities such as: Jk Rowling, Andrew Tate, Sneako and Sssniperwolf.