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sansaorgana · 4 months ago

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— LADY OF THE ROSES (I)

PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — When Lord Tyrell organizes a huge tournament, the rumour has it that the winner might get his eldest daughter's hand in marriage. When she finds out that certain twins are not playing fair and are scheming together with her father to win, she finds herself a champion she wants to succeed instead – Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was sent by his father to win the tournament.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. Although I am not sure if we have even seen them in House of The Dragon, so they can literally look like anything...? 🤔 Thank you so much for reading my last fic with Gwayne and leaving lovely comments and messages! 🌹 It inspired me to write for him again and I already have more ideas for him and a Tyrell Lady Wife (although I don't think the fics will be connected, so they can be read separately). For some reason it makes SO MUCH SENSE to me for Gwayne to have a wife from Highgarden! Some sexual things are mentioned here but there is no actual smut, so I didn't put the warnings. 😉

WORD COUNT — 5,040

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (I)

Beautiful courtyards of Highgarden were filled with tents and knights. The sound of horses and clinging armour reached your ears as you were taking a stroll between the tents – against your father’s wish. He didn’t want you to walk freely around all those knights but you had your own guards and your curiosity had no match because you knew perfectly well what that expensive and flashy tournament was about.

You were in the right age to marry – some would say the age was more than right, too right even. You were Lord Tyrell’s eldest daughter and out of all the three sisters, you were the only one who still remained unmarried. The reasons behind that were two. First of all, you were a picky and proud Lady. Second of all, you didn’t want to leave Highgarden and The Reach.

Your father hoped that your marriage would create a powerful alliance and as a daughter of The Lord Paramount of the Reach and The Warden of the South, you were quite a catch for your suitors. Walking amongst them, you saw them turning around and staring at you with smirks. You were the only Lady around and your pale green dress was showing off just enough of your virtues in a typical Highgarden fashion. There were golden roses in your hair and golden eyeshadow on your eyelids as you were all dolled up for the first day of the tournament.

You took a turn around the Lannister tent and you hissed at the sight of your father. Thankfully, he was not looking in your direction and you managed to hide behind your guards but you ordered them to stand still. You wondered why your father was even by the Lannister tent. Talking so openly to one of the knights participating in the tournament was a clear favouritism.

“Thank you, Lord Tyrell, your support means a lot,” Lord Lannister said and you tried to see him better from between your guards’ shoulders. You didn’t like him at all since arrogance was written all over his face.

“It is no secret for all the men here that I would like you to win. It is a formality,” your father lowered his voice. “An alliance between such big houses… It would make us both stronger,” he put his arm around The Lannister. “But I liked the idea of the tournament. It has splendour, don’t you think? I like to show off,” you father grinned.

“As I said before, I am no knight. My younger twin brother is,” Lord Lannister said and your father looked around before shushing him and they both entered the tent.

Curiously, with furrowed brow, you peeked inside the tent despite your guards’ protests. And you nearly gasped at the sight of another man inside who was being prepared for the tournament as a squire was putting his armour on. He looked identical to the man your father was talking to.

“My brother, Ser Tyland, will pretend to be me during the tournament. No one will know,” Lord Lannister told your father and your father nodded at that. “I will sit and watch, pretending to be him. I will be criticising his techniques out loud just like a real knight would criticise his foolish brother who takes part in a tournament without being a knight,” he explained, very proud of himself.

He wouldn’t be the only man who wanted to take part in this tournament without the title of the knight. After all, everyone was aware that the prize was your hand in marriage and you didn’t necessarily need a knight. There were lots of common Lords joining the tournament but they were all honest with their intentions. Not only Lord Jason Lannister had your father’s favouritism but he also was planning to obviously cheat by using his brother.

It made you angry as you carefully took a step back and nodded at your guards to follow you down the path. It seemed like the whole tournament was just a show and a theatre play – you were no longer excited since the end result seemed to be fixed. You would be sent to Lannisport to marry that annoying and arrogant Lord Jason Lannister. Tears filled your eyes and you didn’t even care about your makeup anymore since you no longer longed for the tournament to begin.

You walked past the greenest tent around and saw a man in auburn hair washing his face outside. He noticed your staring and looked up with a dashing smile. He recognised you immediately from the portraits and your clothes. Also, what other Lady would dare to take a walk here? Only the one for whom the tournament was taking place.

“Lady Tyrell,” he bowed his head but his blue eyes were still on you.

You sniffled your tears back and straightened yourself.

“Lord…?” You asked and turned your head to see the banner on the tent. “Lord Hightower? No, that cannot be. Lord Hightower is in King’s Landing, is he not? And he is much older. He is The Hand of The King Viserys,” you tilted your head a little.

“You mean Otto Hightower, my Lady,” the man nodded with a smile as he approached you. His armour wasn’t fully on yet and you could see his shirt slightly open. “I am his eldest son, Ser Gwayne Hightower,” he introduced himself and reached his hand out.

After a while of hesitation, you allowed him to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower. You are a brother to our Queen Alicent! Are you to inherit Oldtown after your father’s death?” You asked.

“That is correct, My Lady,” he nodded and straightened his back.

You hummed to yourself. Oldtown was in The Reach and it was the second largest and most populated city in the Seven Kingdoms. To get there from Highgarden, a horse needed around ten days down the Roseroad. You had been there before a few times with your parents but you had never met Ser Gwayne before.

You looked him up and down. He had a cocky grin on his face but there was something about him that you actually quite liked – especially compared to Lord Jason Lannister. Ser Gwayne seemed to be confident but in a different, less exasperating way.

“Did your father encourage you to take part in this tournament, Ser Gwayne?” You asked him as you raised an eyebrow at him. “I do believe he is known for being an ambitious man.”

“Yes, my father insisted on me taking part,” Ser Gwayne admitted. “But I do not mind it myself.”

You nodded at that. Well, a union between your houses seemed to be right. You were both from The Reach and perhaps The Tyrells were more significant but The Hightowers were a real power, especially now. Sadly, your father seemed to be fixated on that whole idea of you marrying a Lannister.

Unless… Unless you would interfere somehow.

Your silence was interpreted by Ser Gwayne as a sign of exhaustion or boredom, though. He nodded his head and took a step back.

“It was nice to meet you before the tournament, my Lady,” he bowed his head. “I know there are dozens of knights around but, please, do remember about me while choosing your champion, I humbly ask,” he gave you one more dashing smile before walking inside his tent.

As a Lady for whom the tournament was taking place, you had the right to choose your champion. A man you favoured. Although, since the unofficial prize was your hand in marriage, it would be very awkward for a man who was not your champion to win. You assumed that your father would try to force you to choose Lord Jason Lannister.

And you had been right. Now, when you were holding a golden rose prepared for this occasion as all the knights were standing in front of you and your family in the audience, your father squeezed you by your elbow. He leaned in to whisper into your ear:

“You shall give the rose to Lord Jason Lannister and name him your champion,” he said with a fake smile before moving away.

You swallowed thickly and took a step ahead to be able to reach the man you would choose. You glanced at The Lannister man on the horse – Tyland, pretending to be Jason. And in the audience nearby you there he sat – Jason, pretending to be Tyland. Your eyes met for a second and he grinned at you confidently although he had no idea you were aware of his plan.

You searched for a different pair of eyes now, amongst all the knights. And then you found them, the blue ones. His armour had beautiful ornaments and even his horse was armoured. It all looked so elegant and you smiled at the sight.

You bit on your lower lip. But was he a good knight? Did he actually stand a chance to win?

Well, you were about to find out.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower,” you took a few steps to the right to be closer to him as he commanded his horse to take a few steps ahead. “I choose you to be my champion,” you smiled at him and leaned in to hand him the golden rose.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell, it is an honour,” he bowed his head and you saw in his eyes that he was quite surprised that you had named him amongst all the men your champion. He took the rose from you carefully and pinned it to his armour before closing his helmet and returning to the other knights.

You took a deep breath in before walking away to take your seat. Your father’s burning gaze was nearly painful but your mother kept smiling, unaware of the schemings.

“That’s Otto Hightower’s eldest son. The Queen is his sister,” your mother babbled to your father. “Our daughter has chosen wisely,” she smiled at you. “And he’s handsome and quite young.”

Your father ignored her words and gave you a deadly glare instead but you only huffed and walked away, locking your eyes with Lord Jason again. The real one, sitting in the audience. He was not grinning anymore.

Thankfully, Ser Gwayne turned out to be an excellent knight. Sadly, so was Ser Tyland Lannister, pretending to be his brother Lord Jason.

On the second day of the tournament, they already got rid of most of their opponents as they defeated them in combat. Some of the knights were seriously wounded.

On the third day it was already known that the last duel would be between Ser Gwayne and Ser Tyland. Everyone was taking bets and your father was gritting his teeth.

All this time, you were carefully watched by him and you had no opportunity to speak to any of the men taking part in the tournament. But on the night before the last, fourth, day when the final duel would take place, your father had thrown a feast, during which you were approached by Ser Jason Lannister.

Or Ser Tyland. Were they pretending to be each other during feasts as well? You were tempted to ask but you had no courage to do so.

“Lady Tyrell, there should be songs about your beauty,” he bowed his head and you bowed down.

“Lord Lannister,” you mumbled out, uninterested. “Why aren’t you busy writing them then?”

Your mother looked at you with terror in her eyes but you ignored her.

“Oh, believe me, I do not have time for such frivolities although I wish I had. However, my duties in Lannisport are many. My treasure is full and I shall spoil you with my goods when you are my Lady Wife,” he grinned at you, luring you with his wealth.

“You sound so sure that you’re going to win, my Lord,” you pointed out.

“Oh, I am sure. Ever since you named that Hightower knight your champion, I am determined to show him his place. But I hold no resentment towards you for your choice. I do realise that you, women from The Reach, like to tease,” he winked at you and you had to pretend his words were not an insult. Even your mother gasped a little at his boldness.

“I cannot believe you would spoil me with your wealth for nothing in return, my Lord,” you raised an eyebrow, curious of the response.

“Well, of course not. Like every husband I want my wife to be obedient, easy on the eye and give me many, healthy children,” he informed you. “Sons, I mean,” he fixed himself. That arrogant smirk was still on his face.

“I think your father is calling us,” your mother saved the day as she quickly took you by the arm and excused you both to walk you away from Lord Jason. “Oh, what an insufferable man! Sadly, your father seems to be fixated on the idea of you marrying him. And you know, dear (Y/N), after all the matches you had dismissed in the past… You just can’t say no now. Especially at your age,” she looked at you sternly, but still worried.

You didn’t answer that. You simply nodded your head and walked away to go outside and catch a breath.

You kept walking ahead of you, leaving the noise of the party behind you. You wanted to be alone and despite the darkness, you knew where you were going because you knew this garden better than yourself.

You entered the maze to hide in your favourite spot but after a while you heard unfamiliar steps behind you. You gasped and turned around to see a male silhouette, which caused a shiver go down your spine. If something happened to you now, unguarded and with no one to rescue if you called for help… You didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.

“That is only me, my Lady,” you heard a familiar voice and the man took a few steps ahead. It was Ser Gwayne Hightower, smiling at you.

“Ser Gwayne!” You pretended to sigh with relief but the truth was that you didn’t trust him either. You trusted no man who was creeping up on a Lady like that. “We shouldn’t be left alone without a chaperone,” you pointed out.

“Forgive me, I saw you running away and quite upset. I wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to you as you wandered off from the crowd without any guards following you,” he lowered his voice as he approached you.

You swallowed thickly. He was right in front of you and behind you there was a tall live-fence that was making it impossible to escape. As he leaned in, his auburn hair fell onto his face and you felt it tickling your cheeks. That close he was.

“How chivalrous of you,” you breathed out, starting to feel dizzy. You had never been so close with a man.

He looked down, his gaze fixated on your tight, revealing dress. Your breasts were squeezed under the silky golden fabric.

“What if I don’t win tomorrow?” He asked as he lifted his eyes up again to meet yours. “Lord Jason is surprisingly good, especially for a man who is not a knight.”

“It’s because it’s not him,” you confessed with a heavy sigh and Ser Gwayne furrowed his brow at you.

“Are you suggesting that…?”

“I am not suggesting, Ser. It is true. I know from the very beginning, I have overheard them talking to my father. My father wants me to marry Lord Jason Lannister and this tournament is nothing but a show-off. He was angry at me for choosing you as my champion,” you told him.

Ser Gwayne seemed to be confused as he took a step back and you surprised yourself because you wanted him close again.

“That is… Unhonourable and disrespectful,” he pointed out. “Do you wish for Lord Jason to win as well, my Lady?” He looked at you, intensely.

“No! Why would I choose you as my champion then, Ser?” You shook your head, desperate to make him believe you.

“To toy with me, perhaps. Or to tease Lord Lannister,” Ser Gwayne pointed out.

“I do not wish to have anything in common with that man,” you huffed.

“And me? You do not know me, do you, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne smirked as he leaned in again, his nose nearly brushing yours as he put his right hand on the live-fence above you. You felt so small underneath him suddenly.

“What do you expect from a wife, Ser Gwayne?” You asked, swallowing a lump in your throat and he looked confused at that question as if it was a stupid thing to ask.

“Loyalty, of course,” he answered.

“And that’s it?” Now you were the surprised one. “What about children?”

“Well, it would be nice to have them, don’t you think, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne chuckled and rubbed your nose with his.

“What if I am flawed like my mother and I can give you only daughters?” You bit on your lower lip, slowly getting drunk at the feeling of having him so close.

“Then we shall make them all great ladies of great houses. My sister is The Queen. Us, Hightowers, we are ambitious,” he told you. “And I have many younger brothers who can produce their male heirs. The future of my family is safe whatever I do,” he assured you and raised his other hand to caress your cheek with his fingertips.

At first, you got startled at his touch as if it was causing you pain because you were not used to being touched like this by a male hand. But then, after a short while, you gave in and hummed to yourself, making him smirk.

You leaned back onto the live-fence and arched your back, connecting your crotch with his. You had no idea what made you do that… It was as if your instincts were telling you what to do. And it felt good.

“Don’t,” Gwayne scolded you and took a step back as you whined.

“Aren’t you here to claim me just in case you lose the duel tomorrow?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heating up. You couldn’t believe the boldness of your own words.

Lord Lannister had been right about the women from The Reach, apparently.

“Perhaps you should have not made me your champion, Lady Tyrell, if you think so lowly of me,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head and turned around to walk away, leaving you alone; confused and full of embarrassment.

One thing was certain – he was messing with your head. You couldn’t stop thinking of him all night long, touching yourself to the thoughts of him standing so close, to the memory of his touch and his voice.

You would rather die than marry Lord Jason Lannister. Any attempt to imagine anyone else other than Ser Gwayne touching you, was making you physically sick.

You watched with fear, clenching your fists on the railing and leaning down to see better although, at the same time, you didn’t want to see; you were that scared.

You knew that people had been betting on who would win this combat. And more people had bet on The Lannister. Your eyes followed the golden rose attached to Ser Gwayne’s armour, though. You only wanted to keep looking at him as you prayed to the gods old and new for his victory.

The combat was fierce and long. Both of the horses got hurt and taken away and the two opponents were standing face-to-face now, having to duel with their swords on the ground.

Lord Jason Lannister – the real one, the one in the audience – stood up and clenched his fists on the railing, too, as he watched his twin brother.

“Come on!” He yelled and that was when the other Lannister struck Ser Gwayne down. “Yes! That’s right!” He cheered alongside the audience. Then, he looked at you with a smirk.

“Ser Gwayne!” You exclaimed in a high-pitched, scared voice.

To your relief, your champion stood up after taking the blow and you clenched your fists even tiger around the railing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the wood with your hands.

After a few more attempts to strike each other down, both opponents were roaring with frustration. And then you spotted Ser Gwayne taking his helmet off and throwing it aside as people gasped.

Was he insane? You had been thinking that he was a rational man but apparently much less than you expected.

He looked up at you and nodded his head as the wind ruffled his auburn hair a little. You had to admit that he was presenting himself very handsome and you were aware that the helmet was limiting his view during combat but it was still very risky.

When you nodded back, he went back to the fight. His strikes and blows were fast and determined as if the fight was to death. You held your breath whenever he would get a punch or a strike since he was wearing no helmet. However, he seemed to be doing much better now.

Eventually, The Lannister was laying down and not standing up for quite a long time now as Ser Gwayne spat some blood out and looked up again – his face covered in blood and a few bruises but other than that, he was fine.

Your father stood up, carefully, before walking up to you to see with his own eyes. He hesitated and froze instead of announcing the winner and the whole audience was now looking at him.

“You shall announce my champion the winner,” you reminded him and he swallowed thickly.

“I… I announce Ser Gwayne Hightower the winner of this tournament. Congratulations!” He exclaimed and turned around this very instant to sit back down on his chair.

“You fought bravely, Ser Tyland,” Ser Gwayne helped his opponent to stand up as everyone froze at his words. “Oh, Lord Jason, do forgive me,” he nodded at him with a smirk before leaving the field.

Your heart picked up its pace and you couldn’t help a big grin. You glanced at The Lannister in the audience and he gave you a very unpleasant look this time. You couldn’t blame him, really. Ser Gwayne’s little mistake would make people gossip about The Lannisters cheating in the tournament. It was bringing you lots of satisfaction.

You were about to excitedly leave your parents’ side, when your father grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” He asked, harshly.

“To see my champion!” You answered him.

“Absolutely not,” your father shook his head. “You are coming with me to meet with The Lannister brothers,” he told you and both you and your mother widened your eyes at him.

“Father… Ser Gwayne has won the tournament… Fairly,” you pointed out.

“You said that the winner would have (Y/N)’ hand in marriage,” your mother reminded him.

“It was never officially announced, was it?” He barked at the both of you. “It was just a rumour.”

“Do you want to enrage The Hand of The King by disrespecting his son? Do you want to enrage The Queen herself by disrespecting her brother?” You asked him.

Your father let go of your wrist but he kept staring at you with anger and resentment in his eyes.

“Why did you want The Lannisters to win so badly?” You asked him. “To the point of letting them play it dirty and cheat?” You continued as your mother’s eyes were widening. “I have overheard your conversation on the first day while taking a stroll between the tents like you had forbidden me to,” you admitted. “Why, father?”

“My Lord Husband?” Your mother asked him, enraged by what she had just heard.

“Perhaps you have also overheard the part where I was saying that the tournament is a nice show-off,” he explained.

“I do understand why you threw the tournament. The question was not about that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.

“Wealth,” was all he said after a short silence.

“And… that’s it?” You asked, disappointed.

Your father nodded and looked away.

“Wealth and splendour. An alliance between The Tyrells and The Lannisters would be a powerful one. And their treasure is big,” he added.

You opened your mouth to say something but you had no words.

“Your foolish sisters!” He continued as he raised his voice suddenly. “One married some Dornish lesser Lord and the other went up North to marry a knight in The Vale! The Ladies of House Tyrell! I should have been creating powerful alliances with you, foolish girls, but, no, all of you know better! All of you!” He yelled at you as your mother began to calm him down.

“I would never marry a man without an honour like Lord Jason Lannister,” you only said. “A cheater who plays dirty by using his brother because he knows very well that he would lose his very first combat if it was him down there,” you finished.

Without any other word, you hurried downstairs to run up to Ser Gwayne’s tent. His squire was working on removing his armour off of his body and you approached him to cup his bruised face splashed with blood.

“Ser Gwayne…” You started and then you swallowed thickly and looked down, remembering your encounter with him from the previous evening and the things you had been thinking of at night.

“Lady Tyrell,” he nodded at you with a smile.

“Are you alright, Ser? What has gotten into you to take the helmet off?” You asked as you dared to look up again, right into his blue eyes.

“It was limiting my view,” he answered. “I am alright, my Lady, no need to worry about me.”

“Are you always that irresponsible, Ser?” You asked yet another question. After all, it was important to know if he was supposed to be your Lord Husband.

“Never, my Lady. But it was rather an important combat, was it not?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you smiled widely at him.

You let go of his face as you took a few steps back to let his squire continue his work with the armour.

“I shall leave you now,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Tyrell,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head slightly as he watched you walking out of his tent.

There was a feast again on that evening but instead of being with the guests, your father was locked in the library with Ser Gwayne, discussing the unofficial prize of the tournament – your hand in marriage.

You were pacing around the corridor, all dolled up for the party in a pastel pink dress but with no interest to walk down and participate in the celebrations. You were afraid that your father would be rude to Ser Gwayne or scare him off, so you wanted to be around just in case you needed to put out some fire.

At first, you had chosen Ser Gwayne Hightower to be your champion simply to annoy your father and to avoid showing any favours to Lord Jason Lannister. But as the time progressed – especially after last night… – you just wanted to become Ser Gwayne’s wife. You would still live in The Reach and have your mother quite close but at the same time you’d be away from your father and his constant remarks of remaining unmarried despite your age.

Oldtown was an important place on the map of Westeros and you would be The Queen’s sister-in-law. Your father would be foolish to choose Lannister's gold over that honour.

The doors opened finally and you saw your father who was visibly surprised at the sight of you nervously pacing outside the library.

“Are you curious or nosy, dear daughter?” He asked you with his eyebrow raised.

“Perhaps both,” you answered.

“Either way,” your father shrugged, taking a step aside and revealing Ser Gwayne standing behind him, “that is not a problem of mine to deal with anymore,” he finished. “Disciplining her might be a challenge,” he chuckled at Ser Gwayne.

“With all respect, Lord Tyrell, I am not Lady (Y/N)’s father to discipline her,” Ser Gwayne nodded at him and approached you to hold your hands in his as he looked at your face. “We are going to get married, my Lady,” he announced to you and you smiled widely at him, feeling a huge wave of relief washing all over you. Relief, happiness and… excitement.

“When?!” Was all you asked before looking at your father’s face. He seemed to watch you carefully but wasn’t as displeased as before, right after the tournament.

“Ser Gwayne is running Oldtown in the name of his father so he must return there immediately tomorrow morning,” your father answered. “We will escort you to him for the wedding once all the preparations are finished. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?!” You whined. “How am I supposed to wait for so long?”

Ser Gwayne chuckled at that and so did your father as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You have been waiting for so long to get married, my dear, you can surely hold off a few weeks more,” your father pointed out.

But he didn’t understand. Now, when you actually wanted to become a wife and found a man worthy enough to be called your Lord Husband, you didn’t want to wait a day longer. However, being whiny about it would only make you look childish and desperate.

“I shall wait then,” you sighed and looked down in defeat.

“And I shall prepare The Hightower for your arrival, my Lady,” Ser Gwayne nodded at you. “What is your favourite colour, may I ask, my Lady, just so I know how to tell my people to decorate your new chambers?”

“It’s green, Ser Gwayne,” you answered with a soft smile. “Green and yellow like the colours of my house.”

“Something tells me we are going to be an excellent match,” Ser Gwayne smirked at your answer with a wink.

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x oc #tyrell oc #lilysfiction

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demensrage · 2 months ago

Text

e for eager exploration ⚊ • . with harwin strong

summary: one night you decided to escape from the castle. you wanted to take a risk, living locked up in a glass bubble was tiring you. your faithful squire decides to show you the pleasures of life.

cw: dom!harwin, sub!reader, corruption kink, virgin!reader, fingering, nipple play, hickyes, oral (m. receiving).

wordcount: 9.4k

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit

Your eyes followed the movements of that knight who so invaded your thoughts. You were supposed to be studying; the Septa was waiting for you, and you truly intended to go with her, but when you saw Ser Harwin leaving his father's chambers, you couldn't help but follow him.

Your steps were silent as you advanced through the halls, trying not to attract attention while you followed Ser Harwin. His imposing figure was impossible to ignore; every movement he made seemed designed to capture your attention. The simple clothes he wore, the shine of his hair in the light filtering through the windows… everything about him seemed to draw your gaze.

You hid behind a pillar when he stopped near the training yard, watching how he interacted with the other knights. The Septa would be furious if she knew you had abandoned your lessons to follow him, but at that moment, all that mattered was the warmth swirling in your stomach every time Harwin smiled or let out a deep laugh.

Without thinking twice, you moved even closer, your heart pounding against your chest. What would you think if he caught you? If he looked at you with those eyes that seemed to see through any mask you wore?

Your fixation on him had grown beyond any limit you could have imagined. It was like an invisible force pushing you to seek him, to desire to be near him, even if he barely noticed you. Each time you saw him, something inside you ignited, and that spark became a fire when your thoughts, night and day, filled with him.

You watched him during training, on walks, at formal gatherings… always from a distance, always longing. You made an effort to cross paths with him, to provoke some glance, even if it was fleeting, wishing to feel his attention on you, if only for a moment.

It was an almost painful yearning, a need you didn’t quite understand. How could someone have so much power over you without even knowing it? Harwin was a knight, a man of honor, a man who might never look at you the way you desired, but that didn’t stop you from getting lost in fantasies where his strong hands held you, where his lips brushed against yours with the intensity you imagined in every hidden glance.

It was more than desire; it was an obsession consuming your mind, guiding each of your steps toward him, no matter how much it cost you to remain on the sidelines or how much pain his apparent indifference caused you.

Harwin was not a naive man; far from it, he had always been aware of every one of your movements. He could feel your eyes on him from across the hall, how you followed him through the corridors, seeking the slightest excuse to get closer, to exchange a few words that meant much more to you than he let on. He knew you hid in the shadows during his training, watching, waiting. And although he pretended not to notice your efforts, he was always aware of your presence.

You were hidden behind a thick stone pillar in one of the less-traveled corners of the training yard, where Harwin trained alone. You bit your lip, trying not to make a sound while your eyes followed him with devotion. Your cheeks burned when you saw him remove his shirt, exposing his muscular torso, bronzed by the sun. Sweat glistened on his skin, and every time he raised his sword, the muscles in his back and arms tensed, as if every movement of his was a work of art in progress.

Your breath quickened, but you tried to maintain control, knowing that if he discovered you, you wouldn't be able to justify your presence there. Yet, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. There was something in the way Harwin moved, so confident, so strong, that left you entranced.

Your hands clung to the edge of the pillar, and you felt a tremor run through your body every time his muscles contracted. It was a vision, something almost hypnotic. The sword swung in his hands with enviable ease, and his concentration in combat made you feel invisible, as if you could watch him all day without him ever realizing your presence.

But you knew he wasn’t as oblivious to your attention as you might have thought. Even in that moment, while his eyes were fixed on the training dummy, it seemed like he knew you were there, hidden, spying on him. And that idea, that Harwin could feel your gaze upon him, made you yearn even more to be close to him, to feel the warmth of his skin and the strength that emanated from his body.

As you watched Harwin, your mind began to wander to forbidden places, to fantasies you would only dare to have in the solitude of your chamber, under the shadows of the night. If the Septa knew what was going through your head, she would be horrified. "Those are not desires worthy of a princess," she would tell you, but in that moment, you didn’t care. Your thoughts were far removed from everything you had been taught, and the mere sight of Harwin’s body intensified your desires with an urgency you couldn’t ignore.

Your dreams had become increasingly vivid. You would wake up exhilarated, your breath quickening, your body enveloped in a mix of heat and sweat. Your hands trembled, and the throbbing between your thighs reminded you just how real those longings were. You needed those dreams to become reality, for the sensations that overwhelmed you when you closed your eyes thinking of him to take form.

The desire to feel Harwin's skin beneath your fingers, to be taken by the strength that his movements conveyed, had become more than a mere fantasy. The dampness you felt between your thighs when you thought about how he would touch you, how he would claim you, tormented you, to the point where every furtive encounter with him, every glance he threw your way, seemed to stoke the fire burning inside you.

You knew these thoughts were dangerous, that if anyone found out, you would be judged, but Harwin made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before.

The heat coursing through your body was undeniable. Your cheeks burned, and the desire swelled in every corner of your being, as if you could no longer contain it. You leaned against the cold stone wall, seeking something to help you balance the fire that raged within you, but it only seemed to fuel it further. You gripped your skirt tightly in your hands, trying to find relief, even if just momentarily, while your chest rose and fell rapidly, in rhythm with the intensity of your thoughts.

Your eyes closed for a moment, surrendering to the sensation. You felt your own heart pounding beneath your palm, as if it were responding to something more than just your emotions. In that instant, a desire washed over you that the hand you felt on your chest was his—Harwin’s. You imagined his fingers, strong and rough, tracing the contours of your skin, pressing exactly where your heart now thudded with an intensity you didn’t know how to handle.

You peeked out, just for an instant, hoping the moment would be as perfect as you had imagined. But as you did, your eyes met Harwin’s. In an instant, the world seemed to stop. His gaze, intense and penetrating, landed on you as if he could see through your darkest thoughts.

Your heart skipped a beat, and in an instinctive act, you hurried to hide again behind the pillar, feeling embarrassment wash over you. You knew you couldn’t allow him to catch you in that state, with your desires exposed like an open book. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and as you pressed against the cold stone, you could hear the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears.

However, instead of stepping away, you heard his footsteps drawing closer. Concern and desire mingled in your chest as you tried to calm your breathing, knowing he was now aware of your presence.

“Are you there, my princess?” his voice resonated softly, a blend of curiosity and amusement. There was no anger in his tone, only a confidence that made you feel exposed, as if he could truly read what you were thinking.

You remained silent, motionless, unsure of how to respond. Guilt and desire intertwined in your mind, and the image of Harwin, strong and confident, filled your thoughts once more. You knew you couldn’t hide forever. You had crossed the line from being a mere observer to becoming the object of his attention.

“Sir Harwin,” you managed to say, trying to make your voice sound firm, though the mix of nervousness and excitement made your tone tremble slightly. Each syllable seemed to echo your own heartbeat, resonating in the air between you.

He smiled, an expression that lit up his face irresistibly. There was something playful in his gaze, as if he enjoyed having discovered your little secret. His presence was magnetic, and every inch of his figure radiated an aura of power that left you breathless.

“I didn’t expect to find a lady like you spying on my training,” he said, taking another step closer, causing your pulse to quicken. The way he pronounced “lady” sounded almost like a double entendre, a reminder of your position in the court, but his eyes conveyed something else. There was curiosity, a silent invitation to drop the masks you both wore.

You fell silent for a moment, searching for the right words. How could you justify your presence there? How could you explain that burning desire you had tried to conceal? But before you could formulate a response, he continued, his voice lower, more intimate.

“Tell me, what is it that you really desire, princess?” he asked, with a tone that promised much more than he could offer.

A shiver ran down your spine. The way he looked at you, that blend of seriousness and mischief, made you feel as if you were at the center of a game you didn’t know how to play. You could feel the heat of his presence enveloping you, and the closeness made you forget everything that had led you to hide in the first place.

“I...” you began, but the words refused to come out. It was as if the air between you had charged with a palpable electricity, and the world around you faded away.

Finally, you decided to be honest. You knew it was a pivotal moment, an opportunity you couldn’t let slip away.

“I just wanted to see you, sir,” you managed to articulate, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks. There was a fragility in your words, an honesty that resonated with the truth of your deepest desires. It was a simple statement, yet with an emotional weight that made you feel vulnerable, exposed before him.

Harwin’s smile widened, and you noticed a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes, as if your words were a personal victory. He stepped even closer, enough for you to catch his scent—a mix of sweat, earth, and a masculine fragrance that intoxicated you.

“Is that all?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as if evaluating every nuance of your expression. His tone was playful, but there was something deeper in his gaze, a spark that ignited the emotions within you.

You felt the outside world fade away, leaving you both alone in your bubble of tension and desire. Though you wanted to be bold, a part of you feared making a misstep, so you decided to play with the sincerity of your confession.

“Yes...” you whispered, feeling the weight of vulnerability. “Seeing you makes me feel... alive.”

“Is that all?” he asked again, tilting his head slightly, his voice deeper and filled with a tone that vibrated between mockery and seriousness.

You felt the outside world dissolve, leaving you both alone in your bubble of tension and desire.

“Seeing you makes me feel... alive,” you whispered, the weight of vulnerability peeking through your words, as the air grew dense with palpable emotion.

In that moment, his eyes sparkled with something that went beyond mere curiosity.

“Alive?” he repeated, as if savoring the word, his gaze fixed on you, making your heart race. “Perhaps I should make you feel even more alive.”

You shivered, a thrill of anticipation coursing through your body. The way he looked at you, as if he could see inside you, made you feel as though every secret you had kept inside was on the verge of being revealed.

“How...?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper, unsure if you wanted to know the answer or not.

Without answering, he stepped closer, bringing his face near yours. You could feel his warm breath brushing against your skin, and for a brief moment, the world around you faded away. His gaze softened, and the moment felt eternal.

“Sometimes, a simple gesture can change everything,” he murmured, and before you could fully process his words, he gently took your hand, bringing it to his lips.

With a smooth and tender movement, he pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles, a gesture so intimate that it made you gasp. The contact of his lips was electrifying, a promising bond that hinted at more.

“Take care of yourself, my princess,” he said, holding his gaze on yours for a moment longer before letting you go and stepping back, allowing the echo of his presence to fill the space he had left empty.

You stood there, still feeling the warmth of his kiss on your skin, the burning desire mingling with confusion, knowing that that brief moment had changed everything between you, leaving you yearning for more than you had ever imagined possible.

You made sure no one saw you as you left the Red Keep, ready to venture into the unknown. Your sister had spoken to you about how unreal the Silk Street was, and curiosity became impossible to resist. You wanted to see it with your own eyes, to experience it.

Night fell over the city like a dark cloak, and the flickering lights of the lanterns twinkled like fallen stars, guiding you along the path. As you turned the corner, the air became infused with intoxicating aromas: spices, exotic perfumes, and the sweetness of fresh fruits. You felt a bit like a spirit in a world where time seemed to flow differently, where the court’s norms had no place.

As you approached the Silk Street, the bustle of nightlife surrounded you. Laughter and murmurs of conversation floated in the air, mingling with the soft music emanating from the taverns. Colored lights danced on the facades of the buildings, and silk fabric waved in the shop windows, promising secrets and unexplored pleasures.

You stepped into the crowd, excitement and a slight fear bubbling inside you. Each step brought you closer to a reality you had longed for, a world where you could be more than just a princess, where you could set aside your responsibilities and allow yourself to feel.

As you walked, your eyes darted from side to side, capturing the scenes unfolding before you: merchants haggling, artists showcasing their talents, and couples surrendering to passion in the shadows. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to the vibrant life of the street, an antithesis to the rigidity of the court.

Suddenly, a booming laugh caught your attention. You turned to find a group of young people laughing and drinking, the air filled with a contagious joy.

Cautiously, you approached them, determined to see what they were laughing about. In front of them was a table where they were betting money on a card game. The excitement in the air was palpable, but as you moved deeper into the scene, the atmosphere revealed a darker side of the Silk Street. Moans surrounded you, uncontrolled laughter, and cheers mixed in a whirlwind of sensations.

The sight dazzled you; men and women lay sprawled on the ground, some drunk and laughing uncontrollably, while others seemed trapped in their own bubble of euphoria. In the corners, couples surrendered to passion, oblivious to the world around them, their bodies intertwined in a frenzied dance of desire.

The contrast between the life you had known in court and this new reality was overwhelming. You felt a mix of excitement and unease; this was a world where rules seemed not to exist. You wondered if there was more to discover, if the Silk Street would offer you an experience more intense than you had imagined.

The curious glances of those around you rested on you, recognizing the vulnerability and curiosity that radiated from you.

You realized you didn’t know anything about how to survive outside the fortress. There, everyone was protecting you, caring for the princess, the king’s youngest daughter. You had been so absorbed in the idea of escaping, of experiencing life beyond the stone walls, that you forgot Rhaenyra had gone with Daemon. He had protected her in that place, and you were alone, vulnerable in a world you didn’t know.

You had to get away from the man who was looking at you intently, so you took the edge of your cloak’s hood and adjusted it, covering as much of your face as possible, trying to go unnoticed. However, with each step you took, you felt a mix of anxiety and excitement beginning to consume your courage.

"Are you lost, my lady?" the man asked, approaching with a smile that made you frown. You turned to leave, but as you did, you collided with a broad body.

The impact was sudden, and before you could react, strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against a solid chest. You turned, and when you looked up, you found the eyes of Harwin Strong gazing at you with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"What are you doing here, so far from the castle?" he asked, his deep voice gentle yet firm, as though he was more interested in you than the commotion around you. His presence brought you a sense of safety, and though you knew you were in a dangerous place, his closeness anchored you amidst the chaos.

You felt caught between the need to reveal yourself to him and the fear of what it truly meant to be on the Street of Silk. Yet, in that moment, all you wanted was to stay there, in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body surrounding you, keeping you safe from the unsettling reality around you.

"I just wanted... to experience it," you managed to murmur, feeling your words slip out between the fast beats of your heart.

"Sometimes, experiencing things can be dangerous, especially for a princess," Harwin said, the seriousness in his tone making you feel even more exposed. But in his gaze, there was a spark of understanding, as though he too had felt the allure of the forbidden.

Harwin adjusted the hood of your cloak, ensuring you were shielded from the cold and the curious stares. Then, he took your hand firmly and began leading you through the narrow streets, his imposing figure guiding you safely.

"Let me take you back to the castle, princess," he said, his voice resonating with a blend of authority and concern, as if every step he took was for your own well-being. However, as you walked, a longing stirred within you, an impulse that resisted his intent.

You looked around; the bustling vitality of the Street of Silk was an undeniable pull, and although you knew dangers lurked around every corner, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be there, to feel the electricity in the air, to lose yourself in the life throbbing around you. More than that, you wanted to be there with him—with Harwin.

"No..." you murmured, stopping in your tracks. His hand, still holding yours, caused him to turn toward you, his eyes locking onto yours, searching for understanding.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his expression now filled with confusion and concern. You could see his brow furrow, as if trying to unravel your thoughts.

You felt your heartbeat in your ears, fear and excitement intertwined. It was a moment of vulnerability, but also one of boldness. Instead of yielding to his desire to take you back to the fortress, you decided to step forward, embracing the unknown.

"I want to stay here... with you," you declared, feeling the air grow heavy around you. The answer to your own words was an impulse you had never experienced before, a spark of desire that filled you with courage.

Harwin looked at you in silence, as though weighing your words, the tension between you palpable. And in that moment, the world around you faded away, leaving only the connection between the two of you. His hand still held yours, and for an instant, nothing else mattered.

Harwin shook his head, his expression serious as he maintained his firm grip on your hand. He couldn’t, wouldn’t risk tarnishing your name by letting you stay in a place like this. He knew the Street of Silk was not for you—not for the princess, not for someone of your status. As your sworn protector, it was his duty to safeguard you, not throw you into the wolf's den that waited around every dark corner of those streets.

"I cannot let you stay here," he said firmly, his deep voice echoing with the weight of an unbreakable promise. Harwin would not only protect you from others but from yourself if necessary.

However, something else flickered in his gaze. If what you wanted was to experience the world, he understood that. But not here, not like this. If there was anything he could do for you, he would, even if that meant taking you back to the only place where you'd be safe.

Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder with a strength that allowed no resistance. The air rushed from your lungs, and everything around you spun as he held you firmly. The bustle of the Street of Silk continued behind you, but at that moment, Harwin had made a decision.

"If you wish to experience the world, princess, it will not be here," he murmured as he walked with determined strides toward his horse. You knew he was doing what he believed was right, what he had to do to protect you.

He led you to where his horse awaited, and without hesitation, he carefully placed you on the saddle before mounting himself. Everything that had happened, all the tension, began to fade as he guided you back to the castle, to the place where, according to him, you belonged.

Even though your heart raced and the desire to defy fate burned within you, you knew that Harwin was doing his duty. He was your shield, your protector, and though he had taken away the freedom you sought in that moment, he gave you the safety you had always known by his side.

You remained silent as Harwin took you back to the castle, the steady rhythm of the horse's trot in sync with the rapid beating of your heart. The cool night air brushed against your face, but the only thing you could truly feel was the warmth of his strong body against yours, the protective weight of his arms ensuring your safety.

His broad chest was pressed against your back, and though your mind was clouded with the sensation of repressed desire, you also felt inexplicably secure. The heat of his body enveloped you, and for an instant, everything else—the Street of Silk, the danger, the risk—seemed to fade away.

The silence between you was profound, charged with all that was left unsaid. Every breath he took, every slight movement of his hands on the reins reminded you how close you were to him, how unbreakable his loyalty was. It was almost a sweet torture to be this close, yet so far, knowing there was an invisible barrier between what you both wanted and what duty allowed.

You looked at the door that would come between you and Harwin in a matter of seconds, a barrier that would not only divide your bodies but also the small fragment of freedom you had managed to steal during the night. Your chambers, though luxurious and worthy of a princess, felt more like a prison than a refuge. The loneliness of its walls felt crushing, and the silence became a constant reminder of how limited you were within the Red Keep.

To you, that place was not the majestic castle everyone revered; it was simply a cell, a golden cage where your desires and restlessness had no place. You felt the frustration growing in your chest, fueled by the helplessness of not being able to venture out into the world and live as you wished.

"I just wanted to see the world around me, sir," you said softly, your voice barely a whisper as your eyes remained fixed on the door, with no intention of crossing it. The weight of resignation began to fall upon you, but deep down, you resisted. You didn’t want to enter that room. You didn’t want to return to that solitude.

Harwin, who had been silent since he lifted you off the horse, observed you with a mixture of understanding and conflict. He knew that his duty was to ensure you stayed inside, to keep you away from the dangers that awaited beyond the castle walls. But he also understood your yearning for freedom, the desire for something more than the restrictions your position imposed on you.

"I know, princess," he murmured, in a tone that made you pause.

"I didn’t resist because I didn’t want to fight you," you whispered again, your eyes still fixed on the door, almost as if the mere act of looking at it bound you even more to this place. The weight of your words hung in the air, laden with emotions you had kept inside for too long. Harwin remained by your side in silence, but you could feel his intense presence, as though every word you spoke affected him in some way.

"I can’t explore the world here," you added, your voice trembling slightly as your fingers brushed against the cold metal of the handle. "A dragon is not enough for me."

The final whisper of your declaration blended with the echo of the hallway. A dragon, a symbol of power and freedom for many, but for you, it wasn’t enough. Not when the invisible chains of your position and responsibilities weighed so heavily on your shoulders. Not when every corner of the castle reminded you of what you couldn’t have.

Harwin watched you in silence, his deep eyes searching yours, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. He understood better than anyone the limitations of your life, though he could never experience them in the same way. But at that moment, as you stood motionless before the door to your chambers, there was a shared truth between you both: you longed for more, and he knew it.

"This isn’t my world, Harwin," you added, still without looking at him. "And yet, I’m trapped in it."

Harwin stepped toward you, his intense gaze locked on yours, as if he were waiting for you to say something else, something both of you knew hung in the air but hadn’t yet been spoken. His presence enveloped you, and you felt your heart race. The weight of the question still hung between the two of you, charged with an electric tension.

"What is it you truly desire, princess?" His voice was deep, low, almost a whisper that slipped under your skin.

Your breath caught for an instant, your lips trembling as you tried to process his words. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the blush betraying you as you finally decided to respond. The words seemed to burn inside you, but you needed to say it.

"You…" The confession escaped your lips before you could stop it, and just saying it out loud made the blush on your cheeks deepen.

You didn’t need to say more; the latent desire in the air was evident. You had always wanted him. You had wanted him from the first moment you saw him, from the first time you felt his gaze pierce through you, making you feel vulnerable but also filled with a curiosity you couldn’t ignore.

Harwin smiled, just a slight curve of his lips, but his eyes glimmered with something darker, something that seemed to ignite with every word you had spoken. There was something about you, that curious innocence, the pure and unexplored desire that drew him in. He looked at you as if you were a flame he was willing to feed, a light he wanted to mold, to corrupt… in the best possible way.

"Me?" he repeated, stepping closer, his hand rising to gently brush your cheek, the touch so light you barely felt it, but enough to make your whole body tense.

Your eyes met his, the desire burning within you was palpable, but at the same time, there was a vulnerability, an innocence he longed to explore, something that made him want you even more. Harwin had always had that inclination, a taste for the forbidden, for the pure he could turn into something of his own, something dark and thrilling.

"You know you shouldn’t say things like that…" His husky voice slid across your skin like a caress. "But I’m glad you did."

Your lips parted slightly, your breath coming in short gasps as he drew even closer, his fingers tracing a slow line from your cheek to your neck. The sensation made you shiver, but it wasn’t fear you felt; it was a deep yearning for something you couldn’t explain, something only he seemed able to give you.

"If you truly desire me…" he continued, his lips just inches from yours, "then you’ll have to understand that once we start, there’s no turning back."

His voice, his proximity, everything about him called to you. You were trapped between the desire to explore the unknown and the sweet anticipation of what might come. And the worst—or perhaps the best—was that Harwin knew exactly what he wanted. He desired you in a way only he could understand, and you, curious and innocent, were willing to surrender yourself to that dangerous game.

Harwin’s hand slid down to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. Slowly, he brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

"But if you truly want what you say..." he whispered against your skin, "I promise I'll give it to you. Everything."

You invited him into your chambers, excitement pounding in your chest. The door closed softly behind him, sealing off the outside world and creating a space just for the two of you. The air became thick, full of expectation and a faint tinge of fear, but most of all, desire.

The room was dimly lit, the candlelight dancing on the walls, casting shadows that seemed to play with the intimacy of the moment. You turned to Harwin, and in that instant, all the curiosity you had felt for so long intensified. What was that "everything" he had promised? You felt like an explorer, ready to discover uncharted territory, and he, the guide who would lead you through the adventure.

"What will you offer me, Sir Harwin?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, baring your vulnerability and desire.

Harwin took a step forward, his presence overwhelming. The tension between you grew, and you could feel it like a thin thread threatening to snap at any moment. But instead of retreating, you decided to move forward, determined to discover where this new reality would lead you.

"I'm going to show you what true desire is, what it means to explore the world around you," he responded, as he began to unfasten your cloak, letting the fabric fall to the floor, revealing your figure in the dim light.

He captured you with his gaze, and without thinking, you stepped closer. Harwin, reveling in the power he had over you, let your cloak fall and, with his hand, began to loosen your beautiful white hair, letting it cascade like a river of silk over your shoulders.

"Everything you've ever desired, princess," he said, as he traced a finger along the line of your neck, slowly descending toward your chest, where your blouse covered the breasts that longed to be discovered.

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and the mix of anticipation and nervousness felt like an electric current. You knew that what you were about to do was not just an act of curiosity, but a leap into the unknown. But with Harwin by your side, you felt safe.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his eyes filled with a fire that promised adventures beyond what you had imagined.

You nodded, unable to find the words. There was no turning back, and deep down, you knew it. But there was a part of you that craved that "everything," the part that wanted to discover what it truly meant to be free, to be yourself, far from the expectations that weighed on your shoulders.

Harwin left a soft kiss on your cheek, barely brushing your lips, a gesture that left you longing for more, craving everything he promised with that touch. As he pulled back slightly, his eyes met yours, dark and filled with palpable need. His gaze, firm yet seductive, roamed over your body with an intensity that made you shiver.

"Undress for me, princess," he commanded softly, his voice hoarse with expectation.

The heat that filled you intensified, and your hands trembled slightly as you began to comply with his request. His words, so simple, held a power over you that you had never felt before. The dress you wore seemed like a barrier between the two of you, one he wished for you to remove. With your gaze locked on his, you untied the knot of your cloak, letting it fall to the ground, and began to unbutton the top of your dress.

Each movement was slow, deliberate, laden with the tension of the moment. Harwin never looked away, watching intently as you slowly revealed your skin, exposing what only he had the privilege to see.

With each piece of clothing that fell, you felt the distance between you vanish, the latent desire in his eyes enveloping you like a flame. Finally, when the last piece of fabric slid down your skin, you stood before him, vulnerable and exposed, but without fear. You surrendered completely to that moment, knowing there was no turning back.

"Perfect," he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper.

Harwin wasted no time. His strong hands slid confidently over your body until they found your breasts, taking them firmly, as if they had always been his. His touch was raw, unrestrained, and each caress sent waves of pleasure through you, making you arch involuntarily toward him.

His fingers found your nipples, hardened under his touch, and he began to play with them, gently tugging, pinching, and rolling them between his fingers, teasing you with a mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless. Every movement, every pressure, ignited something deep within you, a desire you couldn’t control.

His eyes, fixed on yours, left no doubt of his intentions. Every action was calculated, every touch aimed at exploring your limits, and you, completely surrendered, felt how desire consumed you.

The sensation far surpassed any fantasy that had ever invaded your mind in the solitude of your chambers. Feeling his hands on your skin, the firmness of his touch, was incomparable. Every pinch, every caress made you tremble with desire, as if your entire body had been designed to react only to him.

Your body moved on impulse, eager for more, desperate to experience everything he had to offer. You leaned into Harwin, seeking his mouth with a sense of urgency. You needed him closer, his warmth, his strength, but most of all, you needed the taste of his lips claiming yours.

Your hands clung to his neck, pulling him toward you. Harwin, offering no resistance, allowed you to close the gap, and when his lips finally met yours, the world seemed to disappear. The kiss was neither gentle nor tender. It was searing, intense, as if both of you had been waiting for this moment for far too long. His tongue invaded with possession, and you surrendered entirely, lost in that kiss that burned like uncontrollable fire.

His hands, still playing with your breasts, continued their relentless teasing as he kissed you, squeezing harder, pulling moans from you that you couldn't hold back. This was more than any dream, more than any repressed desire.

Harwin let one of his hands leave your breast, only to entangle it firmly in your hair, pulling with absolute control, making your body arch toward him without resistance. The gesture was as dominant as you had imagined, intensifying the kiss until you could hardly breathe. His tongue ravaged your mouth with wild passion, claiming you in a way you had never experienced before.

With a decisive movement, Harwin began to move away from your lips, tracing a path of open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, each contact laden with a promise of what was to come. His wet lips moved slowly downward, leaving scorching traces on every inch of your skin. When he reached the soft curve of your neck, his pace shifted. He wasn’t gentle. He bit softly at first, then his lips pressed hard against your sensitive skin, sucking forcefully, leaving visible marks, hickeys that would betray his claim on you.

The heat coursing through your body had you on the verge of exploding, and each mark he left on your neck was a reminder of who controlled every second of this moment. Harwin growled close to your ear, feeling how you responded to every touch, how you melted under his control.

"That’s how I like to see you, completely mine" he murmured in a hoarse voice, not letting go of your hair as he continued to claim every inch of skin he encountered.

Without stopping his assault on your neck, Harwin let his hands roam down your body, his fingers tracing the outline of your curves with a mix of possession and desire. Finally, his hands found your thighs, gripping them firmly, and without any effort, he lifted you, carrying you as if you weighed nothing. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your body now completely at his mercy.

You felt the pressure of his chest against you, and the friction of your wet pussy against the piece of fabric separating you from him sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

"So good for me…" Harwin murmured with a mix of adoration and lust, his voice rough as he claimed your lips again with searing intensity. The kiss was fierce, as if he were devouring you, and the world around you faded until only he remained, his body, his mouth, and the way he made you feel completely his.

Effortlessly, he sat you down on the bed, his strong hands holding you in place while his lips never left yours. The heat from his body flooded into yours, and the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in his world, made you tremble with desire.

Every move he made was controlled, deliberate, but filled with a passion that only he could awaken in you. The brush of his tongue against yours, the slight pull on your hair as he tilted your head to deepen the kiss, all of it was done with the intent of making you surrender completely.

His hands began to explore once more, sliding down your sides until his thumb stroked the small of your back, pulling you closer to him as you sat there, trapped between his body and the edge of the bed.

"Open your legs for me, darling," Harwin whispered, his voice thick with desire, but also laced with that authority that made your muscles respond without a second thought. He looked at you intently, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he gave that bold command.

The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, straight to your core, making your hands clutch at the fabric of the bed as you slowly obeyed.

His hands traveled down to your thighs, caressing them firmly, parting them with an ease that only showed how little control you had in that moment. The brush of his fingers against your exposed skin made your breath catch, as he undressed you not only physically but stripped away any trace of innocence you had left.

Every inch of space you created between your legs made him smile, that dark smile that promised to give you far more than you could have ever dreamed.

His gaze roamed over every part of you as he leaned forward, brushing his lips against yours again, but not kissing you yet. He held you in that point of delicious tension, relishing the way you gave in completely to his desires.

The glint in Harwin’s eyes intensified as your thighs parted for him, revealing the purity he so desired to corrupt. He knew you were his to mold, that every touch, every word, would bring you to the edge of something unknown and tantalizing. That mix of innocence and submission in you excited him like nothing else, and your shaky voice, those little moans you couldn’t hold back, only made him want more.

His hand ran along the inside of your thighs with torturous slowness, barely brushing the skin, causing a sigh to escape your lips. Your body had never been touched like this; you had never allowed a man to cross those boundaries. But with Harwin, you wished he would. Every part of you screamed for more, to feel his fingers where you had never allowed them.

“You’re so pretty… and all for me,” he murmured, his voice husky, as he slid one of his fingers into your center, caressing your hole, making you desperate for more. Your hips instinctively moved towards him, seeking more of that touch you had only dreamed of feeling.

With a dark, seductive smile, he slid his finger inside your dripping hole, touching you. The first direct brush of his fingers on your wetness tore a moan from your lips, and he, pleased with your reaction, began to move slowly, exploring every part of you as he listened to every sound you made.

His fingers went deeper, touching you with that mix of firmness and sweetness that only he knew how to handle. The control he exerted over you was absolute, and he relished watching you give in to every touch, your voice grow more vocal, more desperate, as he taught you what it meant to be his.

Your words were incoherent, filled with desire, and every moan, every gasp, only goaded him to go deeper, to claim you as his.

The rhythm of his fingers began to become rawer, firmer. Your thighs began to tremble involuntarily, the new, overwhelming pleasure making you try to close your legs, as if your body, in its innocence, wanted to stop what was happening, but Harwin wouldn’t let you.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asked with a dark smile, as he used one of his hands to spread your legs wider, holding them firmly in place. “Are you scared? No, don’t close your legs… I know you like it, I can feel it.”

“Harwin… please…” you whispered between gasps, your voice a shaky echo of what you used to be. It was overwhelming, that mix of pleasure and shame, but you didn’t want it to stop.

“That’s it. Let yourself go,” he murmured, leaning in closer to kiss your neck, gently biting your skin between his words. “I want you to cum just for me.”

His words were the spark that ignited the explosion inside you, and you felt yourself overwhelmed with pleasure as your climax hit you. Your legs shook, trying to close from the intensity, but Harwin held them wide open, allowing all the pleasure to course through you unrestricted as his fingers remained inside you, guiding you through the swell of your orgasm.

Harwin slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you, watching with an intensity that made you feel vulnerable and exposed. His eyes roamed over your body with a mix of possessiveness and admiration, lingering on your flushed cheeks and the way your legs still trembled, spread wide for him.

“Look how beautiful you are,” he said, his voice soft but charged with power. “So sweet… and just for me.” He pulled away just enough to get a better look at you, his gaze scanning every corner of your skin. You felt completely his under that scrutiny, aware of how your body responded to him, how your breathing remained ragged as the heat of the moment still resided in the air.

“This is how I want you,” he murmured, as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, enjoying the spectacle in front of him. “Open and ready to be mine.”

You blushed even more at his words, unable to help the blush that spread across your skin. There was something about the way he looked at you, as if you were already completely his, that made you feel safe and, at the same time, vulnerable.

Harwin, with slow deliberation, began to undress, stripping off his shirt while you couldn’t take your eyes off his torso. That same skin that you had so often silently admired, was now exposed before you, every muscle taut, sculpted, and vibrant under the dim light of the room. The air felt thicker the moment you saw him—pointing in your direction, thick and firm.

A stifled moan caught in your throat. Doubt immediately assaulted your mind: that couldn’t possibly enter you, you thought. There was no way your body could handle it.

However, as your mind struggled with the idea, your body reacted in a completely different way. Your lips grew moist on their own, and without realizing it, you had slowly licked yourself, your thoughts being replaced by an overwhelming feeling of curiosity and desire. You sat up on your legs, your breathing quickening as you watched him with an intense gaze.

Your eyes locked on him, eager and filled with curiosity, as you imagined what could happen. Every inch of him seemed more tempting than the last. Your heart was pounding, but it wasn’t nervousness that was taking over, but desire. That insatiable curiosity you had always felt for him was pushing you for more. You wanted to feel it, taste it.

Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from his body, and a fleeting thought crossed your mind, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You wanted to lick him.

You bit your bottom lip, heat rising up your chest and throat, leaving you breathless. Your cheeks burned, tinted red, as your hands trembled slightly as they brushed against his skin. That desire, uncontrollable and overwhelming, grew within you.

Your fingers, initially timid, slid over his torso, moving down to wrap around him with firm pressure. He was thick, warm, pulsing against your palm. The touch alone made a moan catch in your throat, but you swallowed it back, letting the anticipation consume you.

Without further delay, you leaned forward, and with your tongue barely brushing his skin, you began to trace it. The salty taste of his skin invaded your senses as your lips slowly enveloped him. You felt Harwin tense, his hand burying itself in your hair, guiding you without a word, but the pressure on the back of your neck said it all: he wanted more.

Your tongue traced a wet path from base to tip as he let out a low growl, his abdomen tightening at the intensity of the moment. With each movement of your mouth, the heat grew between your legs, your own body responding to Harwin’s every reaction, knowing you were taking him to the edge.

Harwin tightened his hand in your hair, taking control of your every movement with a commanding yet restrained firmness. His breathing became heavy, his eyes dark as he watched you, making sure you felt him completely. He pulled your head back slightly, making you look into his eyes.

“Relax, princess,” he murmured in a deep, almost husky voice as he moved your lips deeper over him, setting the pace he desired. His hips rocked slowly, controlling each thrust as he guided you, making sure you took more with each movement.

You felt his thickness pressing against the back of your throat, and every time you tried to pull back a little to take a breath, he pulled you back in, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. Your body trembled at the mix of submission and pleasure, as the heat between your legs became unbearable.

“Like that, good girl,” Harwin whispered with satisfaction evident in his voice. With each word, his movements became slower but deeper, keeping you at that point where control was completely his. “Keep going… don’t stop.”

Tears began to pool in your eyes, the pressure and intensity of the sensation almost overwhelming. With each thrust from Harwin, your throat tightened, the sound of your labored breathing echoing in the air. It was an aching pleasure, a mix of humiliation and desire that kept you on the edge of insanity.

Your body reacted to every pull and thrust, even as tears silently fell down your cheeks. The heat of his body, the intensity of his gaze, it all made you feel alive, but also vulnerable. You tried to close yourself off, but he only tightened his hold, trapping you between his strength and the soft surrender of your body.

Your hands clenched tightly on the edge of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the force of keeping yourself balanced. You felt the tip of his cock hit against your throat, one of your hands shooting up to his thigh, feeling the firmness beneath your palm.

“God…!” he breathed out in a broken whisper, his voice thick with desire and desperation. The intensity of his words filled you with deep satisfaction; you knew you had him on the edge. With each stroke of your tongue, you felt his body tense, writhing, wanting more.

Then, in a moment of pure surrender, he gave himself over to the sensation, his body shuddering in a powerful climax. The explosion of his seed filled your mouth, a warm, salty taste that made you moan in pleasure. Though the surprise caught you off guard, the need to swallow it all was overwhelming, and you let yourself go, enjoying every drop that emanated from him.

With one last, deep suck, a pop resonated as it left your lips, the sound filling the room with an echo of satisfaction. You pulled away from him, feeling the cool air caress your hot face, as you sat back down on your legs. Your lips were red and swollen, as if you had been at war, and a drop of his essence slowly trickled down your chin, leaving an obvious trail of what you had just experienced.

You looked up, meeting his gaze, which was now filled with desire and admiration. The way he watched you made you feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time. Every movement of his body reflected the need that still vibrated in the air between you, a palpable reminder of what you had just shared.

“See what you can do to me?” Harwin said, his voice low and heavy with desire. He moved a little closer, the air between you thick with the electricity of what had just happened. Your heart was pounding, and the anticipation of what was to come next made you hold your breath.

Without thinking, you brought a hand to your face, wiping the drop of his essence away with a finger, only to bring it to your lips and taste it once more. You blushed, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Desire burned within you, a flame that only he could fan. The night had only just begun, and you both knew there was so much more to discover.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd smut #harwin strong #harwin x reader #harwin breakbones #ser harwin x reader #kinktober #—demensrage.

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