#Ser Harwin Strong/you

[starogeorgina]

Broken bonds

Paring: Ser Harwin Strong/reader

Warnings: Swearing, child birth

Notes: Like most of my stories, this was written during/after a nightshift, so I apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Thanks to everyone who's kept up with broken bonds so far; I'm so excited for the next part, which catches up with the show!

2.07

The sound of metal clanging together echoes throughout the yard as knights train. You watch proudly as your husband wins each training match without another knight's sword even scraping his armorer.

“The young ones are very taken with Ser Harwin,” your father chuckles watching as Vaegon watches the training mesmerized.

You smile at your father and squeeze his hand, which was covered by a leather glove. Whatever infection your father had spread to the bones in his hand, causing him to become seriously ill, to the point he almost died, but a maester chosen by Rhaenyra managed to save your father's life by cutting off two of his fingers to stop the rot from spreading. Aerion sat on the opposite side of you, his head resting against your side. He had become a lot more clingy recently; you just put it down to his age and the slight jealousy of the new baby coming. You smooth Aerion’s hair, feeling content not only watching Harwin continue to win but also the interactions between your sons and their grandsire.

You focus back on the training yard and notice Harwin looking behind you with a darkness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. You look over your shoulder to see Criston Cole standing smugly. Aegon had let slip that the knight had called yours and Rhaenyra’s sons bastard in front of himself, Aemond, and Helaena. Something that infuriated Harwin more than yourself

Each time you returned to the keep, it became more and more toxic.

—

You try your best to focus on your sons, who were staring up at you curiously, and not on the pain developing in your lower stomach. Vaegon had been excitedly telling you that his dragon, Nightmare, now had silver appearing underneath their black scales when you first felt the pains begin.

“Is that so?” You say this, forcing a smile.

You had sent your lady-in-waiting to look for Harwin some time ago; he had gone to greet his sister Cassandra, who had come to stay before traveling to Dragonstone on boat with her brother and your sons. However, it seemed that they may miss the birth, as you suspected your labor was due to start shortly. You were supposed to be leaving in the morrow to Dragonstone, but you couldn’t wait any longer; as soon as your husband arrived, you’d need to leave. Just as you consider sending the knight standing guard in the hallway outside your quarters to go find Rhaenyra, Harwin bursts through the door.

“Vaella!” He rushes to your side and asks, “Is the baby coming? Should I send for the maester?”

“Maester?” You chuckle, placing your hands on the lower back. “The maester and midwives who will be delivering this baby are already on Dragonstone. We need to go to them now.”

“My love, we cannot possibly travel whil-”

“Do as you wish, husband, but I am going to the dragonpit. This baby will not be born here.” You place the palm of your hand against the wall to help keep your balance as the pain intensifies, making sure to smile at your sons so they don’t become scared of seeing you in pain. You let out a deep puff of air. “You can either fly on dragon back with me or go by boat with the boys.”

Frustrated by your stubbornness, Harwin calls his sister, who you hadn’t even heard come in. “Cassandra, look after the boys. I need to let Princess Rhaenyra know we are leaving immediately. She will take care of getting you and the boys to Dragonstone.”

—

As you walk along Harwin’s side, he takes a peek at you from the corner of his eye. You lick at your lips and say, “I know what you’re thinking, and absolutely not.”

You were being more than stubborn now; you were being outright difficult because you’d lost your sense of reason, but you knew Harwin would reach a point where he’d no longer listen to you. After a few moments, Harwin puts a comforting hand on your arm, stopping you from walking any further, and you turn to look up at him. He gives you a small shake of his head and says, “I can’t watch you suffer.”

From the moment Varos arrived on the island, Harwin insisted he carry you since the shooting pains in your stomach were getting closer together, but you refused. “We aren’t much further, plus I’m far too heavy.”

Despite your protests, he picks you up in bridal style and carries you the short distance to the castle. Harwin was the strongest man you knew, but you were still afraid the weight of you would be on too much for him, but you are proven wrong when he didn't even break a sweat by the time you reached the castle entrance.

—

“I can't do it!” Your voice trembles as you’re overwhelmed with pain.

You clutch the blood-stained material of the nightgown you’d changed into so tight that your knuckles turn white. Your contractions had lasted nearly a full day before you dilated far enough for the midwives to announce you were fully in labor. The only positive from your labor being dragged out was that the rest of your family had arrived on time.

“It won’t be long now,” Rhaenyra says, “and this will be over soon.”

Rhaenyra sits by your side, holding your hand as Cassandra dabs at your forehead with a damp rag. Exhaustion had almost overtaken you on several occasions, but your sister and sister-in-law had been the strength that you needed. Your husband had been long sent out of the room. The moment Harwin noticed the blood running down your legs, he started to sway on his feet, and not needing the distraction of panic from him passing out, the midwife in charge ordered him to wait in the next room.

“One more big push.”

You feel as if all the air is sucked from your lungs as you scream louder than you ever have before, bringing your new baby into the world. All the pain you’d suffered was worth it the moment your screaming newborn was placed in your arms.

“It’s a girl princess,” the midwife says before waving to someone to fetch more towels.

Tears of happiness spring to your eyes. “Healthy?”

“Healthy as a horse princess.”

“You’ve no idea how happy I am to meet you, my precious girl.” Smiling, you kiss her on the nose. “Can someone tell Harwin the baby is okay? But please don’t tell him it’s a girl.”

Cassandra places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll go get my brother.”

Rhaenyra kisses the side of your head, “I’m so proud of you. She’s so beautiful.”

“Thank you." More tears fall from your eyes. “I promised Vaegon and Aerion that they could pick a dragon egg once the baby was born. Could you take them?”

“Of course,” she says, kissing you one last time on the cheek before leaving to get your sons.

Just like her brothers, your daughter had thick, dark hair. You accept a wet cloth from the midwife and gently start to clean her face. It doesn’t take long for the afterbirth to pass, and shortly after Harwin comes into the room,

“My beautiful, strong-willed wife,” he says with the widest smile on his face. “May I?”

You nod and gently hand her over to him. “It’s a girl.”

His face lights up. “A girl, our baby girl.”

Your lady-in-waiting uses the opportunity to fuse over you, fluffing up the pillows at your back to help keep you up right. She reminds you to rest and drink plenty of fluids over the next few days. You thank her and insist she finishes for the night.

You reach for his free hand and link your fingers with his. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn.”

“It’s one of the many things I love about you.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Have you decided a name from the ones we picked out?”

“No, I think you should pick it. It’s only fair since I picked the boys names.”

Harwin lets go of your hand and sits down on the bed beside you, his free hand now wrapped around your waist, while the other holds your daughter carefully. “Ada,” he says, “Ada Strong.”

—

Laying in your bed, you cradle your newborn gently, breastfeeding her with a smile on your face. Across the room, Harwin is slouched in one of the chairs with Vaegon and Aerion on either side of him. Your sons had picked out the perfect pink egg to place in the cradle with their sister, but they had both fallen asleep long before they got the chance to actually meet her.

Just as your daughter stops feeding, the door to the room opens and Rhaenyra steps in, doing her best to remain quiet. “I heard my niece has a name now,” she whispers. “Ada, I believe?”

“Harwin chose it.”

She pulls up a chair and sits beside it, watching as your daughter closes her eyes. Once she’s asleep, you put her in the crib, which is a short distance from your side of the bed.

When you turn back around, you see that your sister's eyes have glossed over. “Rhaenyra, what is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong; I’ve just been thinking that you should stay here.”

“What?”

She tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and says, "You belong here with your family.”

“But Dragonstone belongs to you, Rhaenyra,” you point out. “Besides, you are my family. I don’t want to be apart from you, Jace, and Luke.”

“I can’t change my own fate, but I can change yours. I wish for you to stay here. I don’t want the greens digging their claws into your sons and dripping poison into their ears. You’ve always wanted to live here.”

“Rhaenyra,” you say sternly, but quickly lower your voice when you notice Harwin stirring. “I’m not going to leave you on your own in court, not again.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Rhaenyra wipes your tears away with her thumb. Softly, she says, “I’m the elder; it’s me who should be looking out for you.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Very well, as heir to the throne, and your future queen, I commanded it. I command that you stay on this island with your husband and children. Dragonstone has always been your home, Vaella,” she presses her forehead against yours. “We will only be one short dragon ride away from each other.”

“I will miss you.”

“We could see each other every day if we wished. I just want to know that at night you’re safe and away from all the badness at court. I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Will you stay here with us for a while longer? I don’t want you going home just yet.”

She nods. When Rhaenyra hugs you, tears fall freely from your eyes, but not because you are sad. Raising your family on Dragonstone was a dream come true, minus being apart from your sister. Of course you’d miss seeing your father and Aegon everyday, you imagined you’d fly back to the keep every couple of days to see them. But for the first time in years, you felt your mothers presence, you felt her in the warmth of your sister.

[maidragoste]

The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing you. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. His brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in your eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

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[fairysluna]

HERE AGAIN

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

knight in shining armor.

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

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Harwin Strong x Targ!Fem!Reader.

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

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

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

WORD COUNT — 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you heard his voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sounded so beautiful.

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

“Harwin, I- I feel…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Let's get you to bed now, shall we?”

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

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

“My princess-”

“Please.”

And he couldn't say no.

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir?”

“I am in love with you.”

TAGS — @islandfantasydream

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

[novaursa]

Hello! I would love it if you could possibly write a cute platonic story for Harwin after the birth of his only daughter (reader) and spending what time he can with her despite trying not to raise suspicion. I just see him as such a happy girl dad 😊 Thank you!

Father's Oath

- Summary: Harwin often sneaks into Rhaeyra's chambers risking everything to see you, his daughter.

- Platonic Paring: daughter!reader/Harwin Strong (father)

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Harwin Strong makes his way through the halls of the Red Keep. He moves silently, his footfalls muffled on the cold floor, careful not to disturb any guards on their nightly patrol. The weight of his armor would be a dead giveaway, so tonight he leaves it behind, opting for something less conspicuous. He isn’t the Commander of the City Watch here; no, he’s just a man sneaking through the castle to see his daughter.

You.

He finds the chamber easily, a door he’s passed countless times now ingrained in his memory. Harwin pauses for a moment, listening for any sign of Rhaenyra stirring, but all is still inside. Slowly, he opens the door just wide enough to slip through. The room is warm, the air thick with the scent of lavender and dragonfire, but his focus is entirely on the small wooden cradle near the bed. You’re inside it, bundled in soft linens, asleep, for now.

Harwin smiles as he approaches, careful not to make any noise that could alert anyone else. He has just a few minutes, maybe an hour if he’s lucky, before he needs to return to the shadows. His hand is large, calloused, but gentle as it moves to lift you from the cradle. You stir only slightly, a tiny yawn escaping your lips before settling back into the warmth of his chest.

“Did you miss me, little one?” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he sits in the chair by the hearth, cradling you against him. “I swear, I miss you every moment I’m not here.”

You don’t answer, of course, just a baby, but he feels your small fingers wrap instinctively around his thumb. The sight of it makes his chest ache in the best way, a fierce protectiveness swelling inside him.

Harwin knows he shouldn’t be here, not at this hour and not this often. The rumors, the whispers about you and your brothers, are already too loud. If anyone sees him slipping into Rhaenyra’s chambers, it would only fuel the fire. But he can’t help it. He’s missed too much already—too many firsts stolen from him by duty and distance. So he takes these stolen moments whenever he can, fleeting as they may be.

“You’re growing fast,” he murmurs softly, rocking you gently. His heart is light despite the weight of everything outside this room. “Soon enough, I won’t be able to sneak in like this. You’ll be crawling all over the place, causing trouble, just like Jace and Luke.”

The thought brings a quiet chuckle from him, imagining the chaos you’ll bring to Dragonstone’s halls. With your father’s strength and your mother’s fire, you’ll be a force to reckon with.

He lets out a sigh, eyes tracing your delicate features. You have your mother’s nose, but there’s something of him in the way you grip his hand, a stubbornness he recognizes in himself. His thumb gently brushes over your tiny knuckles as he whispers, "If only you knew how much I love you already."

The quiet moment stretches on, Harwin savoring it as long as possible, knowing it won’t last forever. His eyes flick to the door occasionally, listening for any sign of Rhaenyra stirring or someone approaching. But the night remains still.

“You won’t remember this, but…” Harwin hesitates, feeling a little foolish talking to someone so small. But he’s always liked the sound of his own voice, especially when it’s just the two of you. “One day, when you’re older, I’ll tell you about these nights. How I used to sneak in just to hold you. I’ll tell you how you used to fall asleep on my chest like this, without a care in the world.”

Another pause. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. Harwin leans back in the chair, closing his eyes for just a moment, breathing in the scent of you—milk, lavender, and something uniquely yours.

“I’ll also tell you about the trouble you’ll give me when you start walking,” he adds with a soft chuckle. “Your brothers are handfuls, but I have a feeling you’ll be my greatest challenge.”

As if in response, you make a small sound, a little murmur as you snuggle closer into his chest. Harwin smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. It’s moments like this that he wishes he could freeze in time, hold onto forever. But he knows better than anyone that time moves too quickly.

He glances toward the door again. He’ll have to leave soon. Too much time here raises suspicion. The thought makes his jaw tighten. He shouldn’t have to sneak around like this to see his own daughter. But the world is not kind to fathers like him—men who love children born of whispers and shadows.

But Harwin doesn’t care about any of that now. All that matters is you, here in his arms, safe and warm. He knows he’ll protect you, no matter the cost. He’ll fight for you, just as he fights for your brothers. And if anyone dares to threaten that, they’ll face the strength of a man who has everything to lose.

Leaning down, he whispers once more, his voice barely more than a breath. “I’ll always find my way back to you, little one. Always.”

And with that promise lingering in the air, Harwin reluctantly rises from the chair, carefully placing you back in your cradle. He adjusts the blankets around you, making sure you’re still warm, still safe. His hand lingers for just a moment longer before he steps away, the shadows calling him back to the world outside.

As he slips out the door, he takes one last look at you, already dreaming, unaware of the lengths he’s gone to just to hold you for a little while. Harwin smiles softly to himself before disappearing into the night, already counting the minutes until he can see you again.

[criminalamnesia]

Pretty like the sun

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

summary: you spend a morning with harwin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nor do I, but–” he began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I?” He asked with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking a little disheveled, Princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[idkyetxoxo]

Harwin Strong - Wild and Untamed

Summary - The princess escapes into the forest, only to confront a wild boar in a fierce battle for survival. Bloodied and emboldened, she returns to camp, where her primal nature awakens an intense connection with Harwin, a thrilling dance of wildness and passion.

Pairing - Harwin Strong x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!! lowkey they're both freaks x)

Word count - 2801

Masterlist for Harwin • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

The royal feast was supposed to be the grandest event of the season, yet it barely held my interest. Perhaps others would have been dazzled by the promises of overflowing banquets and exotic performers, but I found it all rather tiresome.

Still, as the king's only daughter, attendance wasn't optional. No excuse could relieve me of my duty to be there, smiling and nodding on cue. 

But before being enveloped in the stifling atmosphere of the court, I stole away for a moment of peace, slipping quietly into the forest.

I wandered slowly, twirling a wildflower between my fingers, savouring the soft rustle of leaves and the rich scent of moss. 

Humming a tune I barely remembered, I let my gaze drift through the trees, marvelling at the afternoon light that dappled the forest floor. 

For a short while, I had managed to elude my guards, though I knew they'd find me soon enough. When they did, they'd surely scold me for straying beyond their reach.

A sharp crack of snapping twigs sounded from behind me, interrupting the tranquillity. I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes as I prepared to face my most dutiful guard. 

"Ser Arthur, your speed is impressive as always," I teased, not bothering to turn around.

But as I finally glanced over my shoulder, the teasing smile froze on my face. The flower slipped from my fingers, drifting to the ground, forgotten.

Standing behind me, emerging from a shadowed thicket, was no armoured guard but a massive, wild boar. 

Its dark eyes were fixed on me, unblinking and intense, its tusks jutting out menacingly as it studied me with unsettling focus.

"Oh," I breathed, taking a careful step backwards. 

My hand slid to the hilt of the dagger at my waist, fingers tightening as I drew it slowly. The boar and I locked eyes, each of us poised in silence, waiting for the other to make the first move.

I tightened my grip on the dagger, feeling its reassuring weight in my hand as the boar pawed at the ground, preparing to charge. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. 

I took a slow, steadying breath, and then it lunged forward with terrifying speed.

I sidestepped, just barely, the massive creature's tusks scraping past my thigh as I dodged. The boar swung around, its eyes wild with rage, and charged again. 

My heart thundered as I ducked, jabbing my dagger forward, feeling it graze thick hide but not enough to deter the creature. 

It roared in fury, shaking the forest as birds scattered from nearby branches.

With every dodge, every sidestep, I grew more determined. As the boar charged once more, I waited until it was almost upon me, then shifted swiftly, plunging my dagger deep into its side. 

The beast let out a strangled, enraged sound, thrashing and flinging me backwards. I hit the ground hard, but I scrambled to my feet, unyielding.

The boar staggered, blood pooling from its wound, its breaths coming in laboured huffs, but it wasn't done fighting. Its eyes locked onto me with a final surge of fury, and it came at me again. 

This time, I met its charge head-on, driving my dagger with all my strength into its chest. The boar stilled, giving one last tremble, before finally collapsing to the forest floor.

I staggered back, breathing heavily, my hands and arms now dripping in blood. My clothes clung to me, stained in the creature's dark, thick lifeblood. 

I barely had a moment to catch my breath before I heard hurried footsteps and shouts in the distance, my guards finally closing in on me.

As they burst through the trees, they froze at the sight before them: the princess, drenched in blood, standing over the massive, fallen boar with a dagger in her hand. 

Their eyes widened in shock, mouths slightly agape.

I arched a brow, giving a wry smile as I sheathed my dagger, letting the silence stretch for a dramatic beat. 

"You're all late," I quipped, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "I was beginning to think you'd leave me to fend for myself."

The guards glanced at each other, then at the boar, and finally back at me, still too stunned to find their words. 

Shrugging, I turned and started walking back toward the camp, each step leaving a trail of bloodied footprints. 

They scrambled to follow, glancing nervously between each other as I strode ahead.

By the time we reached camp, I could feel the weight of every gaze on me, nobles and servants alike, all turning to stare at the blood-soaked princess making her way through the centre of camp. 

I raised my chin, ignoring the murmurs and raised brows. They could gawk all they wanted; tonight, I had proven myself capable of more than anyone would have thought.

As I neared the edge of the camp, my eyes caught on a figure hunched near the fire, his hands deftly skinning a rabbit. 

Ser Harwin Strong looked up, his eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of genuine astonishment. 

His hands stilled as he took me in, his gaze travelling over the blood that painted me, the wild glint still lingering in my eyes, and finally, the subtle smile at the corner of my lips. 

There was no pity, no caution in his stare—only admiration, and perhaps even a touch of something more. 

His jaw tensed as he took in the sight, a barely concealed grin tugging at his mouth like he'd just witnessed the most thrilling thing he'd seen in years.

I smirked, a quiet challenge sparking in my eyes as I met his steady gaze. 

Without breaking eye contact, I turned and continued toward my tent at the far edge of camp, my every step a silent invitation. 

I knew him well enough to be certain that he would follow, his curiosity piqued and his interest sparked.

The path to my tent was lined with soft candlelight, but I barely noticed it, my thoughts lingering on Harwin. His gaze had stayed with me like a physical touch, the thrill in his eyes echoing my own. 

I reached my tent and paused at the entrance, casting a glance back at the camp.

Sure enough, I saw him striding through the shadows, his gaze fixed intently on me. There was a quiet tension in his movements, a restraint that spoke of more than just duty. 

He didn't hurry, didn't call out, but his presence filled the space around him, a reminder that he had seen me—truly seen me—as I was tonight.

I held back a smile as I slipped into my tent, leaving the entrance open just enough to let the light spill through, waiting for the heavy footfalls I knew would soon approach. 

Tonight, I had earned respect, and perhaps—if the smouldering look in Harwin's eyes was any indication—something far more interesting.

The silken ribbon holding my hair slipped free under a gentle tug, releasing my silver tresses to spill down over my shoulders, framing my face in wild waves. 

I glanced up as Harwin stepped into the tent, his gaze intense, almost predatory, a hunger sparking in his eyes.

"Ser Harwin," I greeted, voice low and laced with intent.

"Princess," he replied, lips curling in a smirk as he boldly let his gaze roam over me, lingering shamelessly on every inch. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took in my form, his eyes settling on the drying, dark streaks smeared across my skin.

The flicker of heat in his eyes trailed to the undeniable tension at his beltline, and I allowed myself a knowing smile.

"You seem... aroused," I remarked, eyes narrowing as I noted the strain beneath his trousers, letting the intensity of my gaze return to meet his.

"That I am." His voice, thick with need, edged closer as I perched at the edge of the settee, feeling the cool leather beneath me and the weight of his stare.

"Good," I whispered, sliding my fingers beneath the hem of my tunic, peeling away the blood-soaked fabric. 

It fell in heavy folds to the floor, leaving me bare, clothed in nothing but the crimson streaks of the wild boar's blood smeared across my skin in haphazard strokes—a primal mark of the hunt. 

His breathing hitched as he took in the full sight, his gaze following the trails of crimson streaked across my skin.

"Princess" he rasped, his hand reaching out as if to touch, but pausing midair, hovering reverently. "You are a sight to behold."

"Am I?" 

My fingers skimmed down the curve of my torso, tracing patterns in the drying blood, drawing his gaze with every stroke.

I beckoned him closer, lifting my hand, slick with scarlet, until he was mere inches away. I reached out, pulling him forward by the collar. 

"I see your restraint," I whispered, drawing his hand to my chest, pressing his palm into the blood-slick skin. "But I do not need your restraint."

"Princess..." His voice cracked with want, his self-control finally slipping as his fingers slid over my skin, tracing lines in the drying blood. 

It smudged under his touch, leaving his fingertips stained as they wandered, leaving no inch of my body untouched. His breath grew ragged, and his clothes ruffled faintly as he pulled them off, discarding layers until he was as bare as I was, save for the tension rippling through him.

"Do you like it?" I asked, my fingers gliding up to his jaw, painting his face with streaks of red as I traced over his cheek, his lips. 

"Does it arouse you to see me covered in the blood of something so wild?"

"In ways I can hardly describe with mere words," he whispered, catching my fingers between his teeth, biting down just enough to draw a gasp from me. 

His hands drifted lower, kneading into the flesh of my hips, pulling me flush against him, my skin slicking against his as his desire mingled with the scent of blood and heat.

"Then find another way," I demanded, pushing him back until he was forced to sit, and I took my place on his lap, straddling him with bold purpose. 

He gripped my thighs, fingers pressing into the bloodstained skin as he gazed up, rapt. 

I leaned forward, letting a stray droplet from my collarbone trace its way down his chest, watching it curve along the muscles as I settled over him, grinding down with a slowness that made him groan.

"As you wish," he whispered, voice strangled, his hands guiding me, and soon he was thrusting into me, every movement reverent and raw. 

His touch became fevered, smearing red across both of us as his fingers traced bloody patterns down my back, gripping and pulling me close until there was no space between us. 

The sound of our bodies moving together filled the tent, a rhythm matching our racing pulses.

The blood on my skin slickened his movements, our limbs slipping against each other in a primal dance. 

Each thrust, each push and pull brought with it a new smear of crimson, a new mark left upon his skin, mingling with sweat, binding us as fiercely as any bond.

"Quiet, Princess," he growled, his teeth grazing the skin of my shoulder as I fought to stifle my cries. "Or they'll all come running."

"I don't care," I whispered breathlessly, raking my nails down his back, leaving new trails of blood beneath my fingers as I rode him harder, our bodies lost in a frenzy of touch and sensation.

A strangled groan escaped him as I tightened around him, his rhythm faltering for a heartbeat before he regained control, his grip on my hips tightening possessively. 

He moved with purpose, each thrust deeper, harder, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. 

The smeared blood had dried into a darkened canvas on our bodies, each new mark a testament to our fevered lust.

"Gods," I gasped as he thrust deep, pulling me down with a force that shook through my entire body, leaving me gasping, eyes half-closed in a haze of desire.

"There are no gods here, Princess," he whispered against my skin, biting down on my collarbone as his hands wrapped around me, relentless, claiming every inch. "Only us."

My head fell back, eyes slipping shut as I sank deeper into the haze of him—his heat, the scent of iron and sweat, the visceral sensation of his body against mine. 

Harwin's grip on my hips was possessive, almost bruising, each movement a relentless claim, each thrust driving me further into a frenzy of desire and defiance. 

The blood, smeared thick across my skin, slickened his hands as they gripped and guided me, and with every stroke, the crimson streaks only spread, painting us both in dark, wild patterns that seemed to pulse and come alive.

I pressed down against him, feeling the full length of him as he thrust up into me, each motion sending sparks through my body, and I couldn't help the broken sound that escaped my lips. 

His gaze darkened as he looked up at me, eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that bordered on feral.

"Such a vision, my wild princess," he murmured, one hand slipping to the curve of my waist, steadying me, the other lifting to trace a bloody thumb across my lips. 

"The gods themselves wouldn't dare take their eyes off you."

"Then worship me," I whispered, voice thick, my hand trailing down his chest, fingers splayed against the hard muscles, leaving a bloody trail in my wake. 

I felt his breath hitch, his eyes flashing as his hand tightened at my hip, holding me still.

"Gladly," he growled, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was as fierce and unrestrained as he was, tasting of hunger and longing. His tongue swept against mine, his mouth pressing deeper, and I moaned into him, feeling the heat coil tighter in my belly. 

His kiss was unyielding, a claiming until I could barely catch my breath. 

When he pulled back, his lips were stained with the blood smeared across my own, the sight only stoking the fire between us.

Without warning, he leaned forward, pressing me back down onto the settee, his body covering mine as he shifted, hands finding the backs of my thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them. 

His eyes raked over me, lingering on the dark smears of blood that marked my body. 

His hands followed his gaze, palms skating over my breasts, down the curve of my waist, painting new strokes of red as he moved.

"Harwin..." 

My voice was a breathy plea, half lost as he leaned down, lips grazing my neck, then lower, marking me with heated kisses as he tasted every inch of skin, savouring the wildness clinging to me.

"You're everything fierce, Princess," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot as his lips trailed lower. "The blood, the hunt—it suits you." 

His hands slid beneath my thighs, lifting me, angling me toward him as he thrust back into me, harder, deeper, a rhythm that was unrestrained, carnal.

My body trembled beneath his, my breaths coming fast, ragged, and I felt myself nearing the edge, the tension tightening with every movement, every surge of his hips. 

His hand slid up, fingers wrapping around my throat, not to constrict but to hold, to claim, his thumb brushing lightly against my racing pulse. 

His lips hovered just inches from mine, and his gaze was so fierce, so unrelenting, that it sent a shiver down my spine.

"I want you to shatter for me, Princess," he murmured, his voice a rough command as his movements intensified, each thrust driving deeper, harder, until I felt myself unravelling beneath him, the pleasure surging in waves that left me breathless.

I cried out, biting down on my lip to stifle the sound, but he didn't relent. 

His own breathing was ragged, his hands tightening their hold as he pushed me over the edge again, his name a whisper on my lips as the last shred of control broke.

A shudder rippled through him, his rhythm faltering for a heartbeat, his head falling against my shoulder as his body tensed, and I felt him come undone within me, our bodies tangled in the aftermath, a chaotic, beautiful mess of blood and sweat and heat.

For a moment, there was only silence, our bodies still intertwined, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the tent. 

His fingers traced along my jaw, a quiet reverence in his touch as he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, smearing a fresh streak of blood along my cheek.

"You're... beyond words," he whispered, his voice soft now, tender, and I smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his touch linger as he held me close as if he never wanted to let go.

A/n - This is so unhinged but so so fun to write 😭😭

[drakoneve]

A Dragon's Wrath

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

pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I would like nothing more, Ser."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What have you planned, my love?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[djadins]

— A R G H U R Y S 🗡️ • 3

+ pairing | ser harwin strong x f!princess!reader

+ a/n | not me posting this as if i didn’t up and disappear for a year o o p s

It was getting late enough that the sun’s light no longer adequately lit the book you had been staring at. Rubbing at your eyes, you yawned and stretched out your arms. You had been out here since after morning’s end at least. Supper would have to consist of whatever you could convince the chefs in the kitchens to cook for you.

The roots at the back of the heart tree, or rather, where you joked the ass should be carved (to the Septa’s annoyance and your later punishment), had a nice dip in them that served as a hammock for your body. Add in the many pillows and blankets that had a permanent residence under the tree, and you had yourself a nice little hiding spot that you had frequented for as long as you could remember. Unless one walked all along the side of the heart tree, it was likely a passerby wouldn’t notice you.

“Ser Harwin was looking for you.”

A yelp escaped your lips, much to your sister’s delight. Her airy laugh floated amongst the trees in the Godswood.

“Seven hells Rhaenyra!”

She giggled again, sitting down next to you. You playfully pushed her arm. She feigned offense, then wrapped her arms around you and placed a delicate kiss to the top of your head.

“Ser Harrold told me he was the one who took you hunting in the Kingswood for Aegon’s nameday.” She looked at you expectantly. You shrugged in response.

“That was over a fortnight ago! You weren’t going to mention it to me,” she paused, pressing her flattened palm against her heart, “big sister, best friend, closest companion?!”

“Well you didn’t exactly talk about your night in the Kingswood with Ser Criston, bloodied and disheveled. I thought we were going to drink and leave Aegon’s nameday behind us.”

Rhaenyra gave you a knowing look. “This,” she waved her hands in a circle, “is different. You’re already blushing at the mere thought of him.”

You rolled your eyes at her. “The dramatics are over the top tonight, Rhaeny.”

“Dramatics or not,” she turned her body to face you, grabbing your forearm, “you two would make a fine match someday.”

“Match?! Rhaenyra, he’s Lord Lyonel’s oldest boy. Don’t you think a marriage proposal would be for you?”

Rhaenyra smirked. “See, that’s another thing Ser Harrold told me. When father was discussing my future matches,” she paused at the word to stick out her tongue and fake sick, “with Lord Lyonel, he joked that the Lord would advise I wed his son, Ser Harwin.”

“…And?”

“And,” she leaned in closer to you, “He disagreed. Instead, he counseled Father that he believed I should wed another.”

“Who?”

Rhaenyra slapped your arm. “It doesn’t matter who sister, point is, Lord Strong is not putting his son up for my hand. Furthermore,” she continued, while you rubbed your stinging arm, “Ser Harwin is not interested in me. As soon as we ran into each other, the first thing out of his mouth was to ask if I’d seen you.”

You rolled your eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything, Rhaenyra.”

“Is that right? Well, answer me this — whose dagger has been occupying space in your chambers? Because I know you did not convince the smiths to craft you one with the sigil of House Strong in the hilt.”

“You went in my room without me!” you pushed her.

“Sister,” she grabbed both of your shoulders, “you keep missing the point.”

“Which is?”

She lowered her voice. “That not only would the two of you make a handsome match, one that father would actually consider and if need be, we could sway him toward, but, that you could also be happy. You could wed for love. You could,” her voice cracked and she cleared it, “you could have what mother and father had.”

Tears welled at both yours and Rhaenyra’s eyes at the mention of mother. She pulled you in and hugged you tightly. “I just want you to be happy,” she whispered.

You squeezed her back and inhaled her familiar scent. “I love you, sister.”

“And I, you.” She pulled back and smoothed out your hair. “Now head to the library. With any luck, you might still find him there searching for you.”

You grabbed your book and hopped up to your feet. You began a brisk pace towards the library, the halls of the Red Keep surprisingly empty during the walk there.

You rounded the corner into the library and saw a familiar, tall, dark knight pacing the shelves in the back, looking at the various volumes on hand.

“Can I help you find what you’re looking for, Ser?”

Harwin turned on his heel, clearly a little startled by the sound of your voice. He took in your appearance as you returned the book you had been reading back to the proper shelf. The corners of your mouth were upturned into a smile.

“Princess,” he greeted.

You picked up a different book and offered it to him. Flora of the Seven Kingdoms by Maester Tollett.

“Hmm… I think I would rather have lessons from the expert than read about flowers from a Maester who’s been dead half a century.” His smile was large, his eyes bright as he looked down at you. You put the book back down on the shelf and began walking around the library, running a stray finger along the spines of the books.

“Expert, hmm?” you questioned. “I’m surprised a man of the City Watch has time for something as silly as flowers.”

Harwin walked over to you, the soft patter of his boots with every step emphasizing just how slowly he was moving. He lifted a hand to your cheek. “I make time for the things that are important to me, princess.”

You smiled up at him as he gently brushed his thumb against your cheek. “What brings you to the library?”

“Well,” he dropped his hand from your face, bringing it instead to his and rubbing the length of his stubble. “I had dinner with father and Larys. Father said I should learn what it means to be Master of Laws if that is the path I want to follow someday.”

“What about the City Watch?” you tilted your head slightly.

“Mmm, I intended to climb up the ranks, princess. However, it seems father wants me to have all my options open. Says I could make for a fine politician like him.” He shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate he didn’t believe that. “I asked for a transfer to the barracks here at the Red Keep to be closer.”

“You’ll get to patrol inside the Keep?”

He nodded. “Both inside and out now, yes.” He took a deep breath in.

“Oh Ser Harwin, that’s wonderful. You’ll get to see Lord Lyonel and Larys a lot more now.”

“Yes, princess,” he paused, reaching a hand out to brush some hair behind your ear. “My family, and others who are dear to me.”

Your cheeks grew hot. You eyes left Harwin’s and looked down at your feet. His feet stepped in closer to yours and you could feel his breath against the crown of your head. His hand gently wrapped around to the back of your head…

He jumped back like he had been burned at the sound of feet behind you. Maester Runciter had entered the library, oblivious to the princess and knight who currently occupied it. He began scattering various papers around his workspace and talking to himself.

You cleared your throat and peered up at Ser Harwin through your lashes. “Would you accompany me on a walk through the Keep? Or are you on duty tonight?”

He offered his arm out and you took it. “I am free tonight, princess.”

You waved to Maester Runciter on your way out of the library but you were pretty certain he did not hear or see either of you during his time in there. You giggled at this and Ser Harwin could be heard chuckling under his breath.

“You know, I have a book on the small council in my chambers. You’re welcome to it, Ser Harwin. Admittedly, I have been using it to press flowers.”

His laugh was more audible this time around. “Thank you princess. I will be sure to find you a heavy replacement.”

The two of you walked what felt like the length of the entire castle, talking and laughing. The evening air brought with it a cold front that had the hairs on your arm standing up tall. A shiver ran through you as the wind ripped your silver hair behind your shoulder. You let go of Ser Harwin for the first time to rub your own arms.

“Princess,” he stopped you. You turned around to face him. His gold cloak had been pulled from his own shoulders and he was holding it out to you like a blanket. You nodded and turned, letting him wrap his cloak around you.

“We should get you inside,” he murmured in your ear. You shivered again, admittedly not from the cold this time. Not wanting the night to end but knowing he was right, you reluctantly agreed. You nuzzled into the gold fabric, breathing in the woody smell of Ser Harwin as you followed alongside him.

Ser Criston had a strange look upon his face as the two of you rounded the corner towards your chambers. He nodded wordlessly to you before eyeing down Harwin. Harwin, who had also taken notice of the way your Kingsguard had been watching him, placed a firm hand at your back, rubbing up and down tenderly.

You twirled around, having reached the double doors to your chamber. “Thank you for accompanying me tonight,” you smiled up at him. Harwin simply bowed and you took this chance to stand on your tiptoes and place a soft kiss upon his cheek. When you both pulled back, Harwin’s eyes found the floor, his face flushed. Ser Cole cleared his throat.

He looked at you after a moment, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Good night, sweet flower.”

You curtsied before opening the doors behind your back and pushing yourself in. When they were closed and at your back, you brought your fingers to your lips where they still tingled from the scratchiness of Harwin’s beard. It took your full willpower not to run back outside after him.

It was then that you realized you still had his gold cloak. You fingered it lightly for a few moments before throwing it atop your bed. When you were ready to tuck yourself in, you brought the cloak underneath the covers and wrapped yourself in it.

[itsmeatballworld]

| silver tongue |

pairing | husband!harwin strong x f!wife!reader [she/her pronouns used, written in 3rd person]

summary | a steamy moment alone with your husband is quickly interrupted.

warning | smut so 18+ only!! oral [f! Receiving], breeding kink if you squint.

wc | 800

a/n | again I’m adding my AO3 only fics to my tumblr just to clean everything up! Love me some harwin strong 💕 he deserved a family 😭

Her hands gripped the fine curls of his head. She withered under his weight moments before his mouth was on her body, diving between her legs with such force she nearly saw stars.

It was magical - his tongue. Fierce yet gentle, he worked her sensitive cunt under the sheets of their small bed. He licked her clit with broad strokes, then tighter circles, driving her wild.

She whined, “Harwin please.”

His mouth continued to suck and lick, inching her closer to the inevitable height of her orgasm. She begged for release, for an end to the constant pleasure, tightening her legs around his head.

Harwin chuckled as he lifted just enough to speak but still be close to her core. “My princess,” he whispered as his thick finger slipped inside her. “I need you to cum.”

“Please.” Her hand snuck up to her breast, squeezing at the sensitive skin.

There was nothing this man couldn’t make her feel. Love. Lust. Happy. But tonight he was teasing her.

The slick sounds of his wife’s pleasuring was something dirty and only for their ears. He loved when she could barely contain herself, bucking under his touch. Begging for him.

Harwin’s lips returned to her throbbing cunt. He sucked as his fingers continued their rhythmic pattern in and out.

She whimpered, clamping her mouth shut out of fear she was getting too rowdy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck me—”

“Mm, I would, but then we might make another baby.” His head peered out from under the grey sheets. The curly brown hair she loved fell just below his chin.

With shallow breaths, she groaned as his lips trailed up to her neck. His hands still firm between her legs.

“Give me another child then. I need you. I’m empty without you.”

Harwin was no small man. He was big in all sense of the word. From his size and strength, to more private areas. Saying such things would earn her a toe-curling fuck and a babe come next summer.

She mewled as his bare cock pinned against her stomach. Erect and begging for entry, Harwin laid against his wife. He groaned at the mere graze of his cock against her supple skin.

“Say it again, princess.”

She swallowed. Aching for him. He adjusted her legs as he slid his hefty body between them.

“Again.” His tip brushed her wetness.

A pleading moan left her lips as she tried to form the words. Her mind was in sensation overload every time he touched her.

“Say it again, my love.”

“I need you. P-please—”

The handle of their bedroom door jiggled.

“Mommy? Is daddy home?” Small footsteps pad the floor outside their bedroom door.

“Uh,” She exhaled. “Y-yes, darling.”

The space was small for the family of four, but it was usually enough space. Just not enough when the parents wished for some private time.

Harwin shifted away from her body and covered himself. His pants were nearby. A light tunic tossed towards her just as Harwin exited the bed.

She admired his form in all its naked glory. Gods how she wished her children slept tonight.

“I’m home,” he shot his wife an apologetic glance.

Later, she mouthed. But there would be no later.

Once the eldest son Aeric stepped through the doorway with sleepy eyes and bedhead, so did the little girl. All with dark brown hair and matching eyes to their father.

“Why are you sweaty?” Cienna, their daughter of two, mumbled. Her stuffed toy dangled from her arms as she tried to climb the two person bed.

Harwin already slipped into his thin trousers and was completely reddened by the children hearing them.

“Why doesn’t daddy get us all some water? Then we can snuggle in bed, hm?”

“Yes!” Cienna cheers as she rests her head against her mother’s chest.

“We missed our father,” Aeric jumped onto the bed. He was tall for a six year old, but from the stories Harwin told her, so was his father at his age.

“I missed him too.” She snuggled her children close, so exhausted and wired from the evening.

She missed her husband every day he was not home. Each time he left the house was another day she’d hope he’d be back by sunset. His job required him to survey and protect the realm. And he did a great job, but it was great to have him home before the sun rose.

Cienna yawned, tucking the stuffed toy under her chin. “G’night, mommy.”

…

When Harwin returned, four glasses huddled in his large hands, his wife was asleep.

Gorgeous as always, he hummed.

Then on each side of her were the children. Nestled up to their mother for warmth and comfort, he smiled at the sweetest sight he’d seen all week.

The glasses weighed in his hands. The look of sheer predictability washed over his features. He figured they’d all be fast asleep. The smile that came after was pure joy.

“More for me then,” he smirked as he sipped one of the glasses.

Before long, he joined his family for only a moment before Cienna kicked him in her sleep.

He’d sleep on the ground tonight, it seems.

><

><

a/n 2.0 : and I’m still in love with him 💞

[axelsagewrites]

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

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

Harwin Strong*Suitable Match

Pairing: Harwin x f!reader

Word count: 1320

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

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

Masterlist Here

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

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

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

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

“She’s mean,”

“Cmon she isn’t that bad?”

-

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Out with-it child,”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, father,”

-

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

[starogeorgina]

Broken bonds

Paring: Ser Harwin Strong/reader

Warnings: None

2.06

Jolting upright, your hand immediately goes to your bump as your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. The candles have long since burned out, making it hard to see. You had arrived at Harrenhal during the hour of the owl, so you had gone straight to bed, only to have a horrible nightmare. You reach out for Harwin but realize the space beside you in the bed is empty. “Harwin?” When he doesn’t answer, you start to panic. You call his name again, “Harwin!”

You move fast and grab your dressing gown while getting out of bed, fully prepared to search the castle until you find him. You don’t want to waste time finding sensible footwear because the coldness of the stone floor nips at your feet. You swing the door open and crash right into a large figure.

“And where are you going in such a rush, princess?” Your husband says, with a hint of humor in his voice.

“Thank the gods,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him as much as your bump allowed. Your ear presses against his chest, and you’re able to hear his rapid heartbeat. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’d gone to check if the boys were still settled."

“Are they safe?!”

“Yes, they are both safe and in deep sleep." All humor is gone from Harwin’s voice as soon as he realizes you’re upset. “My love, what’s happened?”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you cling to him like a child. It felt so real. The smell of smoke still lingered in your nose, along with the feeling of heat from the flames. The last time you had a dream so vivid, it came true. “It felt so real. I thought—I thought I’d lost you.”

“Vaella,” Harwin cups your face so you’re looking up at him, and he wipes your tears away. “What’s going on?”

“I had a dream. When I woke up, I thought you were dead.”

Unsure of what to say, Harwin takes your hand and leads you back to the bed. He sits down first; you follow his actions and sit down beside him. He brushes your hair that is soaked with sweat out of your eyes and asks, “I’m not gone; I’m right here.”

Harwin brings your fingers to his mouth and kisses the tips of them gently before linking them with his own. You could sense he was holding back on telling you to calm down. As much as he tried to understand, it was impossible to explain how much dragon dreams affected you to someone who had never experienced being haunted by something that was yet to happen.

“I saw Harrenal burn to the ground. You and your father were both here when it happened. I could see it happening, but I was powerless to stop it." You hiccup a little. “You looked different; your hair was curlier with the tiniest bits of gray in it, and your muscles were bigger.”

He chuckles softly at the last part, then presses his lips to your forehead. “I’m right here. I’m alive.”

“Maybe it was just a bad dream,” you say, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“If your dream has shaken you, we can leave Harrenal; I don’t want you upset and stressed.”

“We came here so you could see your family; I will not take you away from that. Not over my mind playing tricks on me.”

Even in the darkness, you can feel him trying to study your emotions. “Did anything else happen in the dream?”

“No,” you say.

It’s hard to tell if he’s convinced or not, but Harwin doesn’t push the matter further. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him what else you saw, but you worried how fearful he would become if you told him.

—

You sit beside Lady Strong, Harwin’s stepmother, and her daughters while breaking fast. Usually you find sitting and having tea with ladies who do nothing other than gossip rather dull; however, you were very entertained when Lady Strong decided to cut a lady from a less known house to shreds with her sharp words. The lady in question made a remark about how neither of your sons had inherited the golden hair of a Lannister.

When Varos flew over the part of the castle you were in, screeching loudly, the lady quickly excused herself and left. You weren’t a fool, and you knew people would compare your sons, who were declared part Targaryen and part Lannister by the king himself, to Harwin’s appearance. Many seemed to forget it was treason to question their paternity and suffered the consequences for it.

“Has my brother given up his post in the city watch yet?” Cassandra, Harwin’s youngest sister, asks.

“No, he still works during the night.”

She says, “If I were married to a princess, I’d never work again.”

Lady Strong rolls her eyes at her daughter's comment. Your father didn’t feel it was in anyone’s best interest for Harwin to remain your official sworn protector; however, after a discussion that lasted late into the night, your father agreed that Harwin was a fine knight and could return to his previous post in the city watch, but he would be unable to climb up the ranks.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps entered the room, followed by a whine, “Muña!”

Right away, you kneel down on the ground to be level with your son, which raises a few brows. “Aerion, my little dragon, what’s wrong?”

He pulls at his trousers to show you his skint knee. You outstretch your arms for him to run, to which he sobs. “Ñuha mijegindita rūs,” you say, kissing Aerion's puffy cheek. “What happened?”

“The boys got a little too rough while playing,” Harwin says, entering the room. He smiles at you before turning to address the others in the room, “ladies.”

Vaegon clutches Harwin’s hand tighter; both his elbows were skinned and bleeding as well, but unlike his brother, it didn’t seem like he had cried. “Thank you for a lovely tea lady, Strong. I have enjoyed your company this morning, but I must excuse myself to go clean my sons up.”

—

For the last few weeks, you've mainly enjoyed your time staying at Harrenhal. It was nice to be away from the whispers of the keep and get to spend time with Harwin’s family; it meant a great deal to him that your sons were familiar with the castle he grew up in. During the day, you were happy, but at night, you were plagued with images of your dream. It was most likely festering into something worse because you hadn’t spoken about it.

You smiled politely as the people who lived in Lord Harroway's Town bowed to you. The town wasn’t far from Harrenhal, and although you were advised numerous times to not travel without guards escorting you, you weren’t in the slightest bit afraid, not when you had Harwin by your side and Varos was flying overhead.

You were convinced that Varos was deliberately flying in fancy loops in the sky to show off.

“I dread to think how much my sisters have spoiled the boys,” Harwin chuckles.

“Being here agrees with them, as it does you.”

He smiles sadly. If it wasn’t for how badly Alicent treated your sister, you would have gladly never moved away. “Has Princess Rhaenyra written?”

“No, and I’m worried for her.”

You loved Rhaenyra dearly, but she was infuriating at times. All you wanted was to know she was okay, and it was pointless asking your father, as he was blind to the greens behavior.

“The same dragon's blood is running through her veins as it is yours, and you are the strongest person I know. So from that alone, I know she will be fine.”

You kiss Harwin on the cheek, he always knew what to say. “I was thinking it would be nice if we invited your sisters and stepmother to Dragonstone since Rhaenyra, Jace, and Luke are coming.”

Given how terrible Alicent treated you after the birth of your sons and how cruel she was being to Rhaenyra, Harwin suggested you give birth outside the red keep so you wouldn’t need to stress about anything other than the baby, and after talking about it, you decided that Dragonstone would be the best option because it was the place you felt the safest.

A smile pulls on his lips. “My sisters will be honored—”

He cuts himself off when the sudden sound of wings flapping catches his attention. You stare at Varos, who is now flying back to Harrenhal, and ask the question of what other dragon is nearby until you hear the recognisable sound of Caraxes screeching.

“Daemon…” While others gasped and looked fearful as Caraxes flew close enough to the town to cause a large gush of wind, you smiled brightly and asked, “What is he doing here?”

“I invited him.”

Nothing else needs to be said for you to understand that Harwin must have been very concerned to ask Daemon to come. Your lips start to tremble as you realize how much you love the man standing in front of you. You lean into him, kissing him multiple times on the lips, “we should go and greet him.”

—

“Well, that was amusing.”

“Indeed, it was not,” you pout. Varos and Caraxes were actually getting along until they started fighting over the carcass of a dead animal. Daemon assured you his dragon wouldn’t really harm yours, but it still made you unnerved to see a much larger and battle-hardened dragon snapping at Varos. You were actually thankful for the bloody Wyrm winning in the end.

A comfortable silence passes as you walk back into the castle. Once inside, you begin to give Daemon a tour, which was just delaying the inevitable conversation you’d eventually need to have. He tells you how his wife and daughters are.

“Harwin tells me you are insisting he takes you to the taverns in town.”

Daemon smirks, “Do not fret; I will not allow a repeat of last time.”

You’d only seen Harwin ridiculously drunk, to the point he couldn’t walk straight on several occasions, and Daemon was present at each of them. “Laena has forbidden me from corrupting your good husband.”

“Hmm,” you quickly change the conversation. “I’m glad you came, uncle; it’s been far too long.”

“That is, parenthood often delays us from doing the things we wish.”

“Have you met Lucerys yet? He’s so tiny, much smaller than Jacaerys was.”

“Regrettably not,” he says, licking his lips. “Harwin says you haven’t been sleeping well, not since you saw something in a dream. What happened in it?”

You explain the dream to him in great detail, and the look on his face seems to confirm your fear that something bad is lurking on the horizon. The first time you had dreams alluding to the battle of the stones was years before it happened. “That’s not all; there was something I kept from Harwin. When Harrenhal was burning, I saw the Valyrian steel dagger you gave me in the flames; it had writing on it.”

“What does it say?”

“It said my son would be se bringer hen ānogar se perzyssy. The bringer of blood and flames.”

Ñuha mijegindita rūs - My poor baby

Muña - Mother

Se bringer hen ānogar se perzyssy - The bringer of blood and flames

Shoutout to @topazy for this imagine of Vaella and Harwin!!! Also below is one’s I made of what Vaella saw in her dream

[maidragoste]

Forgive me

Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader (unrequited love), Alicent Hightower x Velaryon!Reader, Larys Strong x Velaryon!Reader

Part 5 of this

Part 6

Serie Masterlist

Larys does not appear in this chapter but we have Alicent 😋

btw, there was going to be a little scene with Daemon but I felt like it didn't add to this chapter but if you want I can upload it separately

Comments, reblogs, likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰💖

Please comment if you like the chapter 🙏 🙏  , it always motivates me to write more 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

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

"Get out," you demanded the moment you saw Rhaenyra with Jacaerys in her arms entering your chambers. You noticed how her smile seemed to tremble at your cold tone but you didn't care. If she didn't care about your feelings when she fucked your husband then you had no reason to care about hers.

You had to admit that Rhaenyra had been cautious enough to come when you were alone. If your mother had been with you you were sure that she would not have held her tongue and would have told the princess everything she thought of her. You could even see your mother dragging her by her hair to get her out of your chambers. A small smile appeared on your lips as you imagined the scene, that would be something to talk about in court. Although you would never let your mother lose her temper so much, she couldn't get on the king's bad side.

"Jacaerys wanted to meet his cousins," Rhaenyra said as if she hadn't heard you and sat down next to you. You moved as much as you could, wanting to make your displeasure clear. You couldn't go far since next to you was the basket where Aethan was sleeping there.

Of course, she was going to use her son as her excuse to see you. It wasn't the first time she had done it. Now that she knew that she had seen that you cared about Jacaerys—if it were up to you she would never have found out but one night the prince couldn't sleep no matter what Rhaenyra, Harwin, and Laenor did so your brother had the wonderful idea to take Jace with you, you managed to make him sleep by singing him the same song that you sang to him in the nursery before the perplexed gaze of your husband and the princess—I thought that through him he could get close to you again. But she was wrong.

"Jacaerys couldn't have told you that," you said, feeling Alyn begin to stir in your arms. A small part of you wished that he would start crying so the princess would leave but you knew that if he cried then Aethan would wake up and he would start crying too. You sighed and began to coo to your son, trying to ignore Rhaenyra's glare.

"But it's obvious that he's in a bad mood because he hasn't seen you in days," said the princess.

"Fine. He can stay, now you can go" you said, starting to think that you would have to call one of the maids to help you. You didn't like the idea but there was no way you could handle two newborns and a baby less than a year old alone.

"Y/n" Rhaenyra said your name with pure pain.

"What?" you said pointedly. You hated that she was doing this. You wanted to be calm with your children and she came to interrupt your little peace. No matter how many times you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with her, the princess wouldn't stop insisting. And now she wanted to make you feel bad for her when you weren't the one who ruined everything between the two of you.

"Forgive me. Please, I just want everything to go back to the way it was before," Rhaenyra begged, if you hadn't had your son in your arms she would have taken your hands and kissed them like the two of you used to do when you were young whenever one of you had said or done something that had hurt the other.

"Rhaenyra, that will never happen," you said, starting to feel pain in your head.

"I miss you" You closed your eyes as you heard the princess's voice falter. “I love you,” you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath. You decided to focus on your anger and ignore any other emotions you felt.

"You say that and you still fucked my husband," you said, opening your eyes and looking at her furiously.

"I handled the situation badly," she admitted, hugging Jace, trying not to break down in front of you. "I'm really sorry," she apologized again, feeling her heartache at your attitude. "I know I was wrong but I need you. I can't stand you hating me."

You'd like to say you weren't affected by hearing the desperation in Rhaenyra's voice but you'd be lying. You hated her. And you hate yourself for stopping her from affecting you. A part of you feared that deep inside you were still the young woman who loved the princess and lived to see her happy. You forced yourself to remember the whispers of the court at Jacaerys's hair color to erase any trace of pity you felt for the princess. She alone had caused this. She couldn't expect that with a simple apology, you would forget everything she did.

“You'll have to live with that for the rest of your life, Rhaenyra,” you said that because it was the truth, you weren't going to ever forgive her, but you also said it because you wanted to hurt her, you hoped she felt at least a part of the pain that she and Harwin gave you. “You had to think about it before betraying me”

“You betrayed me first!”

Rhaenyra's scream caused the three babies to start crying. If Jacaerys had not been in the princess's arms, you would have thrown the object closest to your reach at her. Who the hell did she think she was to come uninvited to your chambers and yell at you? Not only that, but she accused you of betraying her. You couldn't believe her audacity. It hadn't even been thirty minutes since she apologized to you and now she was yelling at you.

If the babies' cries weren't drilling into your head, perhaps you would have asked her to explain what the supposed betrayal you had committed was, but right now you just wanted her away so you could calm the twins down.

“Get out” you ordered and for once Rhaenyra listened to you. Of course, she had to leave slamming the door, making your children's cries even worse.

“I don't like them,” Aegon announced, looking with obvious disgust at Aethan, who was in your arms, and Alyn, who was being cooed by Alicent.

Perhaps another woman would have been offended or bothered by the little prince's comment but you couldn't help but laugh at the pout of his lips and his little wrinkled nose.

“Aegon!” Alicent instantly reprimanded him, making the boy even more upset.

“It's okay, my queen,” you reassured her with a smile. “Do you want to tell me why you don't like them?” you asked in a soft voice and settled better in your seat so you could hold Aethan well with one hand and thus be able to caress him with your other hand Aegon's hair.

The boy felt a little better at your sweet caresses. “Because of them you can't spend time with me and Sunfyre anymore,” he grumbled.

Since you gave birth to the twins you didn't go to the Dragon's Pit with Aegon. Now it was the dragon guardians who taught him how to care for and bond with Sunfyre. He didn't like that. Aegon wanted you to be next to him, he wanted to see your proud smile every time he pronounced a word in Valyrian correctly, he wanted you to take him to fly with you over Nightwing like you used to do every time he finished his lessons.

The worst thing was that every time Aegon wanted to spend time with you there was always someone else with you and there were the babies. You couldn't play with him or pay attention to him for long because one of the twins would always start crying or someone would turn their attention to the twins. Aegon didn't understand what people saw as interesting about the twins, they were just annoying babies who didn't know how to do anything but cry. Aegon just wanted to have his time alone with you again.

“Oh, my little prince, I miss spending time with you too” You kissed his cheek several times until Aegon began to laugh.

Alicent watched them both with a smile. It always warmed her heart every time she saw how you cared about her children and how loving you were towards them. She was sure that you cared more about her children than Viserys did. She knew you loved her children like they were your own. She could see it every time your face lit up when the children came running to hug you. She could see it in how you listened intently to Aegon and Helaena's ramblings. She could see it every time she found you in the nursery singing to Aemond and Daeron. She felt grateful for all those moments. She was grateful that there was someone who genuinely cared about her children.

“I promise you that once I recover I will go with you to the Dragon’s Pit.”

"But just the two of us! No annoying babies!" Aegon said, looking at you "seriously" as he pointed at you. You laughed again, the little prince's attitude made you tender.

“Aegon, you shouldn't talk about them like that. They are your family,” Alicent reminded him sternly, making you stop laughing and making the boy have a pout on his lips again.

Sometimes you felt that Alicent took everything too seriously and forgot that Aegon was just a child. It was obvious that he was just jealous that he couldn't spend time with you and it was the first time you'd heard him complain. You didn't like seeing Aegon being reprimanded just for acting his age. A child his age should be free to say what he thinks, he should spend more time playing instead of being pressured to attend lessons just because they thought it would impress his father. You didn't like it nor did you want to take away authority from Alicent's upbringing but sometimes you couldn't help but intervene because you didn't like how they pressured Aegon.

“You can say that they are annoying or anything you want, Aegon,” you said poking his nose with your finger making him smile a little “As long as we are alone” you quickly clarified before the queen's gaze “Besides I am sure that once they grow up and you can play with them you will like them”

Before the prince could answer you, the maester appeared to take the boy away since he had to start his lessons. You managed to convince Aegon to leave after you promised him that he could visit you again once he finished his lessons and that you would be waiting for him with his favorite sweets.

“How are you feeling?” Alicent asked once they were alone. She had been furious when one of her handmaidens informed her that Rhaenyra had come to see you. She had also noticed the dark circles under your eyes. She knew that the twins weren't letting you sleep much, she more than anything wanted to be able to help you but she was the queen and people would notice if she came to your chambers in the middle of the night.

“I'm tired but now that I've seen you and Aegon I'm happy” you admitted, resting your head on her shoulder and you closed your eyes, missing the blush on the queen's cheeks and the sweet smile that appeared on her face at your words.

You smiled as you felt Alicent's lips on your forehead. Not feeling satisfied, you stopped leaning on her shoulder so you could steal a kiss from her. You felt your chest warm at the familiarity of the sweetness of her lips.

Any discomfort that Rhaenyra caused you was forgotten with Alicent's kisses.

Again another night of crying. You didn't know how many minutes ago Aethan and Alyn were crying. You tried to feed them but none of them wanted to take your breast, you had already changed them but they still kept crying.

You rocked Alyn in your arms and with your foot from time to time, you lightly pushed the crib where Aethan was, hoping that the movement would tire him out. All this while you sing to them, trying to ignore the lump in your throat. You feel worthless for not being able to make your babies stop crying. It shouldn't be difficult to put them to sleep if you are their mother.

You jumped when you heard the door open. Your body tenses as you see your husband enter. Harwin had not come to your chambers since the birth of the twins. He never made a complaint or a reproach to you about your relationship with Larys, he stayed by your side and presented your children as a proud father before the court but he no longer went to your chambers. And you were okay with that because you didn't want him to keep insisting that you forgive him.

“What do you want?” you asked pointedly, not bothering to hide your annoyance at his sudden presence, hoping that would make him leave.

You were surprised to see that Harwin didn't seem affected by your tone like usual. You noticed the determination in his eyes and wondered what the hell had happened. Was he coming to argue with you because of how you spoke to Rhaenyra? If he dared to come in the middle of the night while your children were crying just to defend his lover you would kick his ass and let your mother scare him with Meleys.

“I heard the twins crying.”

“I'm sorry that my children don't let you sleep,” you interrupted him with obvious sarcasm. Trying not to think that if Harwin could hear them cry, so should other people. You didn't want to think about how tomorrow the court would talk about your inability as a mother.

“I came to help you” You were surprised by his words.

“Why?” you asked clearly defensively. Although you two knew that you really wanted to ask him, why would you help me with them when you are not their father?

“Because I care about you,” he said but you both knew he really wanted to tell you because I love you. You told yourself that you felt nothing as you saw the obvious love in Harwin's eyes. “You haven't slept well in days. I heard them cry for days and I know you, I know that every time you can't calm them down you are insulting yourself. "I can see right now how frustrated you are because you can't also pick up Aethan and comfort him as you would like."

The lump in your throat grew bigger. You hated that he knew you so well. But you weren't surprised after all he is your husband. Of course, he knew how you thought and how your mind worked. He had seen you in your most vulnerable states.

He had been so good to you but he had to ruin it all.

“Can I pick him up?”

It was silly but you really appreciated that he had asked instead of directly taking your baby in his arms. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to come out shaky.

You frowned as you watched Harwin take off his nightshirt.

“Jace calms down when he feels my skin,” Harwin was quick to clarify and get Aethan out of her crib before you decided to kick him out for thinking she was trying to seduce you. He felt you watching him intently as he placed the baby's small body against her chest. Of course, his crying didn't stop instantly but he seemed to calm down a little.

Your husband started singing the same song you were singing a few minutes ago. His Valyrian was rusty compared to yours. Once you are sure that your voice is not going to betray you, you accompany him in singing. You don't stop rocking Alyn as you watch Harwin pace around the room carefully holding your son. You relaxed as you saw that Aethan didn't look uncomfortable and how as the song continued he became calmer and calmer. It doesn't take long for Alyn to calm down when he sees that you are no longer upset.

Your eyes meet Harwin's and the two of you smile at each other. And Harwin can't help but think that this is where he belongs.

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You Will Pay (Harwin x Reader)

I wanted to write something a little more angry, as you guys know by now I love creating mad women and just portraying the emotions as borderline psychotic, so I hope you guys love this as much. Also please leave a comment it really helps me

The books and the maesters had very descriptive stories about the war of dragons, sisters, and brothers who went to war and detailed tales of the members and which side they resided with.

One particular story that a lot seemed to gloss over so carelessly was one of the most complicated ones, (y/n) Velaryon, the older sister of Laenor and Laena Velaryon, a comely girl and a fierce dragon rider as her egg hatched while she was in her cradle.

The maesters and fools describe her as a vicious woman, a power-hungry lady that cared for nothing but herself, but when had the maesters ever taken the time to look past their nose?

Aegon had bestowed her the title of the king's hand which caused a riot amongst the council, to force your grandsire to step down from his post, and for a woman at that, it was more than something Lord Otto could stomach, still (y/n) thrived as she meticulously plotted her vengeance against Rhaenyra.

“She took everything from me, my dignity, my love, my life, it is time for Rhaenyra to pay her debt to me”

She had confessed to Dowager Queen Alicent and her father whilst she sat next to Vaemond, urging her uncle to petition against Lucerys, some even wholeheartedly believe the Lady had gone rogue after she saw her uncle's head cut off, though she had to admit that being witness to her uncle calling Lucerys a bastard and breathing life to the shameful past (y/n)s late husband had forced her to a darker path.

How convenient would that have been? To blame the unquenchable thirst for revenge on that, no, her sulking ran deeper than that, like a venom slowly releasing droplets on (y/n) 's heart.

Despite it all (y/n) had proved to be more detail-oriented than any man, she had foreseen a plethora of moves from the blacks' side, (y/n) knew her father's mind and her mother's heart like the back of her hand, hiding in the shadows and observing for most of her adolescence was now (y/n)s strongest trait.

Seastar and (y/n) flew to the skies in numerous battles, (y/n) had been forced to face her mother, to go against her in battle whilst Seastar burned countless of Corlys’s ships, (y/n) watched her mother fall from the sky and inevitably to her death, she had wrapped her mother's body in cloth and send it back to her father in dragonstone, it was then that Corlys decided to join the green side, (y/n) was the only family he had left, he could not bare to lose her.

There was a time that (y/n) was not bitter, she was perceived to be as sweet as the fruit from the lands, back at a time when she wore a wonderful dress and was wed to Harwin strong, a glowing bride who smiled from ear to ear at her beloved lord husband, the couple danced the night away after the ceremony and the maids would gushed over their marriage.

(Y/n) gave birth to 5 children, 3 girls, and 2 boys, all of them inherited a wild mixture of their mother's and father's hair, albeit the common trait amongst them was their mother's eyes, a deep violet color that pierced through souls, the children were given devoted love and attention by both parents, Harwin had been an excellent example of a father figure to all of them, he never shied away from bouncing his youngest while the others ran around like a tornado.

He had even insisted on being there for all of their births, and as the first cry of each of them would be heard, Harwin would brush away the strands of hair from (y/n) 's sweaty face, plant a loving kiss on her forehead and then on her hand, smiling sheepishly she would nod at him basking the feeling of accomplishment and euphoria that a newborn would bring as it would curl on her arms.

One would think 5 children would be enough of a proof that there was at the very least attraction between the couple, though life has never been proven to go by a book.

“Laenor”

(Y/n) breathed out as she fell in her brother's arms in desperation, the death of their sister hit them hard and the macabre nature of her ceremony was similar to adding salt to an open wound, Laenor held her tight as he too suffered the pain of his twin being ripped out of life far too soon.

“Let us go for a walk, I wish to speak with you”

“Of course, I too yearn to get away from all the false empathy”

She hissed from between her teeth as the siblings held on to one another and step by step the ever-exhausting role of whatever title they carried washed away from the sounds of the ocean.

“As the eldest, I worry about you, brother”

“As the youngest, I worry for you, you remember her first breath, and now you are here as she took her last”

“It is not how nature intended, I was the one that had to cross over first, I guess Laena always had a Niche for sudden disappearances”

Laenor only scoffed, (y/n) was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve for most of her life, still Laenor could detect that the burdens she carried were heavy, it was forcing her to bend her ever-defiant backbone and suffer in silence as the priding eyes of the court stood by her side, judging any beat of sweat or a wrong bat of an eyelash.

“Laena never cared for what nature intended nor any of the ton thought, she was a young maiden when she rode her dragon with him”

“I wanted to kill her, she was never dim-witted, quite the contrary I like to believe, why did she force herself to even breathe behind the shadow of… her?”

“I would venture to ask the same from you?”

“Of me?”

She was taken aback by the question, quite frankly she could not fathom what could Laenor possibly have intended by it. Puzzled she tilted her head to the side as her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes never leaving his as Laenor somewhat hunched, he looked uncomfortable and defeated.

“Come on (y/n) it is just me”

“I do not follow”

“You cannot point your finger at Laena when you suffer the same fate”

“Suffer? Have you been drinking your grief away?”

(Y/n) was evidently annoyed by Laenors riddles, naturally her mind went to just drunken sentences, Laenor shifted on his feet as he scoffed at her, his arrogance slowly burned out as he detected that (y/n) kept sturdy with her act.

“You… do not know?”

“Know what?”

“About Harwin”

“For the love of everything holy spit it out”

“Harwin is fucking Rhaenyra!”

Laenor exclaimed as fast as his tongue allowed, (y/n) 's blood ran cold at a drop of a hat, her eyes widened as her breath halted right at her lungs, and all of a sudden the wind felt like pricks piercing her skin, then as Laenor waited for the curses and any type of reaction he was shocked to see (y/n) start from a soft giggle to a full-on belly laugh.

“(Y/n), sister”

Laenor went to wrap his arms around her but (y/n) dodged it away, continuing to laugh when her hands went to her knees, her body shook from the snickering and tears started to look in her eyes, escaping fast making her eyesight blurry and the draws of breath harder by the second.

“Please (y/n) say something”

“This is… perfect”

She managed to spit out in between her shrieks of laughter, Laenor took a step back out of fear as (y/n) hiccuped, the only way to describe this was that (y/n) was walking on a tight tightrope in between sadness and insanity, the anger began to coil on her insides as the sudden sensation of pain clawed on her heart. (Y/n) fell to her knees whilst tears made her eyesight blurry, Laenor felt helpless against her, as guilt was written on his face he worried if he had made the right choice, he had let her in the bliss of ignorance for far too long.

“I must, I must go”

“Where will you go?”

“To hell, most likely, but for now I will go to my lord husband, if you can call him that”

She mumbled mostly to herself as she struggled to get up, stumbling from time to time as she walked back to their chamber, some that happened upon her described the sight as a drunken pale ghost, a demeanor that was highest unexpected of her, she could never recall how she had mastered to walk back, she had guessed that the force of habit or the desperate urge for privacy forced her legs to move one after the other and to the door that with the last ounce of power she managed to push.

Her legs had given up as the door closed by itself and (y/n) fell on the floor, she merely switched sides so she could face the ceiling and waited for Harwin, she could have been waiting for hours but to her, the thoughts had wrapped their cloak around the aspect of time, tears had ran dry and her mouth was as dry as sand yet she refused to move.

Harwin had almost stumbled over her when he walked in, it took him a second to register what was happening, his lady wife laying on the floor consciously yet the air felt like something had happened, the obvious guess was the grief overcame her.

“My dear, do you need help?”

“Don’t touch me”

“(Y/n)-“

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How… long?”

Her voice was low yet a hint of poison dripped out of her dry lips, as her throat begged for water all she was concerned about was how the ceiling felt like it would clash on her, the part that scared her was that she secretly hoped it did but only if that meant Harwin would go down with her.

“What has happened?”

“That is supposed to be my question, what happened that made you weak in Rhaenyras arms?”

Harwin only blinked, his mouth slightly agape as he was caught off guard by the question and confrontation, he had played cat and mouse with her for years and now the cat had seemed to just give up after she figured out that a mouse was hiding from her.

“(Y/n)-“

Harwin made the mistake of taking a step closer to her, out of impulse (y/n) used her foot to trip him resulting in him falling next to her, Harwin could not react as fast as (y/n) 's blood thrust and he had only a mere second to stop her from landing the dagger that she had so comically gifted him from stabbing him, the loud grunt was heard all around the room when she mounted him and attempted to land the dagger on his chest.

“I will fucking kill you”

“Stop!”

“I will watch as you tucking die you filthy excuse of a man! Let me do this”

Her eyes were wide and unfocused, she spat all over him as she threatened him with her teeth gritting against each other, Harwin had to put actual pressure on her hand and hurt her as she yelled out of pain and let the dagger off her tight grip, however (y/n) was not ready to give up the fight, her hands found his neck and tighten around him as much as he could.

“I will do it to you, to her, to your bastards, I gave you everything! This is how you choose to repay me? You are a demon!”

Harwin's airway was severely restricted, it was the first time that he feared his lady wife, not only was he scared of her taking his life, but the scariest part was as Harwin withered away (y/n) seemed to have a ghost of a smile and a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

“You’re killing me” he managed to get out

“Good”

It sounded almost like a moan the way she spoke, (y/n) couldn’t even have the decency of hiding how much joy this brought her.

Harwin years of training went into defense and he pushed her off with so much might that (y/n) fell back on the floor with her back. Coughs escaped her and so did Harwin as they gasped for air, (y/n)/ back was on fire but nothing could match the shame and anger that shimmered in her heart

“You sick bastard”

She yelled frantically as she dragged herself with her elbows a few inches away before her arms gave out on her and collapsed back on the floor with coughs shaking her.

Such a tragic scene, a couple that had burned bright for all of the seven kingdoms to watch was now inflicting torture on one another, emotional, physical, one could argue generational given the fact that (y/n) could not stand the idea of her children being eclipsed by Rhaenyras bastards.

Both of them gasping for air on the floor as (y/n) supported herself with her arms to gain some distance from the wooden floor, all one could hear was their panting and the groans in between out of agony and pain, the sight of them would bring pity on both of them, as a couple that once found comfort in each other now brought them a breath away from death.

“This is not the way to discuss this”

“I had given you my life, I tore myself to give you children, a wife anyone would envy, a life full of whatever you wished and what did you do?”

“You know I love you”

The only response (y/n) considered to be right was a swift kick at his leg causing him to flinch and hiss in pain, Harwin had remained motionless on the floor as (y/n) struggled to raise herself and stand up, she had made it about halfway and was up on her knees when a pain as sharp Valyrian steel sliced her across her stomach.

“I will never forgive you for this”

“(Y/n)”

he called for her as sweet as he always did, a few hours ago she would have melted with a happy smile at the sound of him calling her name.

“Get out! OUT!”

She was crying a screaming at him, spit escaping her mouth, Harwin gazed at her with guilt written all over him, (y/n) had endured the worst, scenarios that would make anyone break and yet she had managed to stand strong, all for him to blow it down like a withering deck of cardamom

Harwin got up and shamefully walked away from her, leaving her to cry, what he did not know was that (y/n) was not just grieving their marriage, she was grieving a child, blood was trickling down her leg and the pain only worsened by the moment, she was so excited to call the babe Laena, after her late sister and now she lost that chance as well.

She did not want to tell him yet, maybe inside her, she knew it would not last, but how could Mother be so cruel to her? Take away the last offspring of her love that now was sniffed out like a candle in the wind, the very last memory of the blissful marriage she thought she had.

(Y/n) placed her hands on her stomach as she wept, images of them together kept on clouding her mind and judgment, one that persisted was the day they welcomed their first child.

(Y/n) had suffered at the hands of the maesters, men that could not fathom the idea of a woman knowing better than them even though it was her that split into two pieces to bring a son into the world.

Harwin hastily had burst through the doors at the first sound of that marvelous cry the babe had managed to spit out and fill the room with sighs of relief.

“Praise the Gods, you have a son”

“Out of my way”

Harwin had mumbled before he shoved away the maester making his heavy metal chain click against its charms before he kneeled before (y/n). She was sweaty though her skin was cold, her eyes could not seem to focus and moved at glacial speed, she had managed to make her thighs touch as she had probably collapsed after the labor, and her calves were one in the east and the other in the west.

“My beautiful, sweet (y/n)”

“Harwin, stay”

“Of course, you did so well”

“I’m tired”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and her heavy breathing made it harder for him to listen to her words, as a sign of comfort Harwin placed his hand on the top of her head and started to pet her ever so softly, a sheepish smile appeared on her lips, after such intense act his caress brought her such security that the pain seemed to leave her body.

“Is he alright?”

“Healthy and kicking my lady, would you like to hold him?”

“No, I can’t, Harwin”

She begged, (y/n) could not even get out of bed for days, her body was wounded severely and all she seemed to want to do was sleep, Harwin would often jest that (y/n) only did it to make up for the nights her belly kept her awake, he had stayed by her side, holding their son, making sure she sees him and even helped her to hold him once she had regained her strength.

Now look at them, Harwin kneeling behind the door of the bed chamber as she yelled and cried, (y/n) was pushed into madness, she plunged herself deeper in the sea of chaos and salt of unfairness ached the scratches on her heart, a babe ripped away from her too soon and her lord husband stripped from the shinning armor of honor.

“You will pay! All of you will pay!”

Requests are open!

[aemondwhoresworld]

MAE. RECCOMEND LIST

AEMOND TARGARYEN

AEGON TARGARYEN

JACAERYS VELARYON

HARWIN STRONG

CREGAN STARK

GWAYNE HIGHTOWER

BENJICOT BLACKWOOD

[novaursa]

Chasing the Inferno

- Summary:  It was during Rhaenyra’s and Laenor’s wedding feast, that the king noticed something he was blind to for far too long.

- Paring: targ!reader/Harwin Strong

This whole work is inspired by this brilliant anonymous ask:

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, has striking resemblance to her late grandmother Alyssa and is younger sister of Rhaenyra. These events happen after The Flames We Hide. To read all the chapters in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 3 532

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The evening air carries the scents of roasted meats, spiced wine, and fresh flowers into the grand hall, mingling with the vibrant sounds of revelry. The hall is a living tapestry of silks, banners, and candlelight, casting everything in hues of crimson and gold. A sea of finely dressed lords and ladies flows beneath the arched ceiling, the thrumming heart of the grand wedding feast of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

You arrive with the grace and splendor expected of a Targaryen princess, a vision that commands the attention of every eye that lands on you. The dress you wear is a rich deep plum, the color of ripened plums at dusk, lined with golden thread that shimmers in the light. The sleeves are long and bell-shaped, flowing with each movement, while the bodice is tightly laced with intricate embroidery of dragons in flight. Around your neck, a delicate chain bears a pendant of a dragon curled around a glittering ruby—a gift from your father. Your silver hair is braided in intricate patterns, falling down your back with hints of shimmering ribbons intertwined through each strand. 

You sit beside Rhaenyra at the high table, your twin sister glowing with happiness under her finely woven veil. She leans toward you with a playful smirk. “I see you’ve decided to steal the attention for yourself tonight, Y/N. Not even the newlywed princess is safe from your charms.”

You laugh softly, returning her smirk. “It’s not stealing, dearest sister, merely borrowing for the evening.” Your eyes flick toward the bustling crowd, scanning the faces, seeking a particular one even as you engage in idle conversation.

You find him across the hall—Ser Harwin Strong, the Breakbones, the man who has captured your heart in ways you would never openly admit. His broad shoulders and easy smile cut a striking figure amidst the revelers. He leans against a pillar, eyes fixed on you with a heat that makes your pulse quicken. Even from here, you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the unspoken challenge in those dark eyes. A smirk pulls at your lips. Tonight is not just about celebrating your sister’s marriage—it is a dance, a game of fire and shadow that you and Harwin have played many times before.

As the feast progresses, the lords and ladies rise from their seats, drawn to the center of the hall where the dancing begins. You stand, gracefully gliding down the steps, the train of your gown trailing like liquid night behind you. Many lords vie for your attention, each more eager than the last to have the honor of a dance with the daughter of the King.

You indulge them—one by one, offering your hand with a practiced smile that promises nothing but amusement. Lord Beesbury twirls you first, his steps light but unremarkable. Lord Tyrell is next, his flattery sweet yet forgettable. Each time the music swells, you shift, gliding seamlessly into the arms of another suitor, all while casting sly glances over your shoulder to see if Harwin is watching.

And he is. His eyes never leave you, following every step, every spin, the set of his jaw tightening each time you turn away just as he moves closer. You can feel his impatience building like a storm, the tension of the game heightening with every dance.

Finally, after what feels like endless teasing, you find yourself caught in a whirl of movement, spinning until you are only steps away from him. Harwin’s expression is a mix of hunger and frustration as he makes his move to claim you at last.

But just as his hand reaches for yours, you slip away, turning instead into the arms of a young knight from the Westerlands, offering him a dazzling smile that is only for show. “My, Ser Harwin, are you growing weary of this dance already?” you tease, your voice lilting as you catch his gaze. You can see the fire in his eyes, a silent vow that he will not let you slip away so easily next time.

When the dance ends, the Westerlander knight bows low, eyes filled with admiration as he releases you. And as you turn, Harwin is there—closer than before, a step ahead of any other. This time, you do not pull away when his hand grasps yours, his grip firm and warm, sending a shiver down your spine. His voice is low, rough with suppressed desire, as he murmurs into your ear. “Do you truly believe you can keep running from me, Y/N?”

You tilt your head, lips curving into a smirk as you meet his gaze fully, violet and brown heat clashing. “Run, Ser Harwin? I am only leading the chase.”

Without giving him the satisfaction of a response, you spin away from him, the hem of your dress sweeping across the floor as you are swallowed back into the crowd. You glance back over your shoulder just long enough to catch the frustration in his expression before disappearing into the throng of lords and ladies once more. Harwin will catch you like he always does—of that you have no doubt. The thrill is in making him work for it.

But for now, the game continues, and you savor every moment of it.

The night is young, and so are you—dragon-blooded and bold, playing with fire and reveling in the heat that comes with it.

The music swells, a lively tune that fills the hall with mirth and energy, but it does little to settle the unease that creeps into King Viserys’ chest. Seated at the high table, he holds a goblet of wine, though he has barely touched it. His gaze drifts from one side of the room to the other, watching the mingling guests, the lords and ladies spinning in intricate dances. Yet his eyes keep returning to the center of the hall, where Rhaenyra and Daemon move together with a fluid grace that borders on impropriety.

His brow furrows as he watches them—his daughter and his brother. The distance between them is too narrow, the smiles exchanged too familiar. Even now, after all these years, Viserys cannot fully discern what lies behind those shared glances. His hand tightens on the armrest of his seat, his knuckles whitening with the effort to maintain composure. The court is watching; he cannot afford to let his concerns show. Not here. Not tonight.

But then, from the corner of his eye, something else catches his attention—a flash of deep plum silk, a braid of silver hair glinting in the candlelight. His eyes shift, narrowing as he tracks the movement, and there you are, his younger daughter, Y/N, weaving through the crowd with that same effortless grace, the very image of your late mother Alyssa in her youth.

Viserys watches as you glide from one partner to the next, a playful smile ever present on your lips. Each lord who steps forward is charmed, entranced even, but there is one figure whose presence never strays far from your orbit—Ser Harwin Strong. The son of his current Hand, a man known for his strength and loyalty, but also for the intensity of his gaze, a gaze that now rests solely on you. 

Viserys leans forward slightly, frowning as he observes the exchange unfolding before him. Harwin moves closer, clearly intent on catching you, and you—ever the playful one—tease him with fleeting glances, spinning just out of his reach each time he draws near. The way your eyes gleam with mischief, the way you turn your back only to glance over your shoulder at him, invites more than just a dance. It’s a game, and one that is all too familiar to Viserys, who remembers his own youth, and the thrill of such pursuits.

But then Harwin catches you. His large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you closer, closer than what is proper for a dance in front of the entire court. Your laughter rings out like silver bells, light and teasing as you push back against him, yet the way Harwin’s hand lingers—fingers splayed possessively against the silk of your gown—does not escape your father’s notice. The look on Harwin’s face is far too unguarded, a mixture of admiration and longing that sends a jolt of concern racing through Viserys.

Viserys’ chest tightens as he watches you lean in, saying something that makes Harwin’s smile sharpen, though the words are lost to the music and laughter that fills the hall. Then, just as quickly as he caught you, you slip away again, your skirts swirling as you twirl out of his grasp, leaving Harwin standing in the middle of the floor with a look of mingled frustration and desire. The scene plays out before Viserys like a vivid memory, like something he should have noticed sooner, something he should have acted upon long before tonight.

His eyes narrow as he follows the thread of events with growing unease. You laugh and dance your way out of the hall, light-footed and swift, and though Harwin remains behind for a few moments, his gaze tracks you with the keen eye of a falcon. Then, as discreetly as he can manage, Harwin moves toward the exit, following you.

Viserys’ grip on his goblet tightens until he fears it might shatter in his hand. He remains rooted to his seat, unwilling to cause a scene, yet the implications churn in his mind like a dark tide. The daughter who bears his blood, a Targaryen of pure lineage, slipping away with the son of his Hand? It is unthinkable—and yet, Viserys cannot ignore the undeniable connection between the two of you. The way you moved in tandem, how easily you played off one another as if you were two parts of a whole. It stirs something in Viserys, a deep-seated dread that this could lead to something more—something he has not prepared for.

His gaze shifts, and he meets the eyes of Lord Lyonel Strong. The Hand is seated farther down the table, looking distinctly uncomfortable, as though he too is aware of the precarious position his son is placing him in. When their eyes lock, Viserys does not miss the brief flash of unease in Lyonel’s expression, followed quickly by a nod of acknowledgment, as if to say he understands what Viserys is thinking. And, undoubtedly, he does.

The memory rushes back, clear as day—months ago, when Lyonel Strong came to him with a proposition a second time. “Your Grace,” Lyonel had said, his voice steady and filled with the gravity of a man who understood the weight of his words, “there are many fine matches to be made for your daughter, Y/N, from prominent houses across the realm. But I would humbly suggest that what my son Harwin offers may be worth more than mere lineage. His devotion to the princess is unwavering, and his love is without question. He would be a husband who honors her above all else, a union built on something deeper than mere alliances.”

At the time, Viserys had dismissed the notion—politely, but firmly. His daughter was a Targaryen, and surely she deserved a match that would strengthen their house politically, not merely satisfy matters of the heart. Yet now, watching the scene unfold before him, Viserys finds himself second-guessing his decision. Could there be merit in such a match after all? Could Lyonel’s words hold more truth than Viserys had been willing to see? But then again, to allow such a thing would be to acknowledge a love affair that has clearly grown far beyond simple courtly affection.

Viserys’ thoughts whirl, torn between the duty of a king and the love of a father. He knows that if he raises the matter now, it could cast a shadow over the entire evening, drawing unwelcome attention to something that should remain hidden, if only for the sake of peace. And yet, can he afford to remain silent, knowing the path that such unchecked desire could lead his daughter down? His gaze flicks back to the entrance where you vanished, and a part of him itches to rise from his seat, to go after you and demand answers.

But he stays rooted in place, forced into inaction by the eyes of the court and the weight of his crown. Instead, his gaze returns to Lyonel, and he sees the older man swallow nervously before looking away, clearly wishing to be anywhere else. The tension between them is palpable, unspoken yet undeniable.

Viserys takes a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. The decision he makes next could have lasting consequences, for both you and the realm. As the music swells and the laughter of the court continues around him, the king’s mind churns, trapped in a web of duty, love, and fear.

For now, he decides to wait—he will watch, and if Harwin oversteps again, then the matter will be brought to light. But the seed of doubt has already taken root in Viserys’ heart, and it will not be easily dismissed.

The night is long, but Viserys’ thoughts are longer still.

You slip through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way deeper into its shadowed recesses. The sound of music and laughter fades behind you as you reach a secluded passage, hidden away from the eyes of the court. This path is familiar, a secret shared only between the two of you. You’ve met here before, during stolen moments when the weight of duty and the eyes of others became too much to bear. The flickering torchlight casts long shadows along the stone walls, giving the space an almost dreamlike quality. Yet there is nothing dreamlike about the tension that crackles in the air as you wait, anticipation coiling like a serpent beneath your skin.

Footsteps echo faintly down the passage, the heavy tread unmistakable. A smirk tugs at your lips as you press your back against the cool stone, the thrill of the chase still buzzing in your veins. He always catches you in the end; it’s a part of the game, a part of the dance you both know so well. You hear him approach, his steps purposeful, a hunter closing in on his prey. You hold your breath, relishing the thrill of being caught, knowing what comes next.

And then he’s there—Ser Harwin Strong, towering and fierce, the firelight casting sharp angles across his rugged features. He looks at you with that smoldering gaze, dark and intense, his chest heaving as he closes the distance between you. “You run from me as if you ever wanted to get away,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You don’t reply with words, only a wicked smile that dares him to come closer. And he does, with a predatory grace, until his body is pressed against yours, trapping you between the stone wall and his broad chest. “Caught you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, one hand sliding up to cradle your jaw while the other grips your waist possessively.

Before you can retort, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s all fire and hunger, the pent-up tension of the night spilling over as he devours you with a need that’s impossible to hide. You kiss him back with equal fervor, fingers tangling in his dark curls as you pull him closer, desperate to close the distance that’s been kept between you all night. Every touch, every bite and nip, is laced with the emotions you can’t express openly—a love too dangerous to voice in the light of day, but undeniable in moments like this.

Harwin’s hands roam over your body with a familiarity that sends heat pooling in your core. He tugs at the laces of your gown, his fingers rough but practiced, until the fabric loosens and falls away, exposing the soft skin of your neck and shoulders. You gasp against his lips as he nips at your throat, the scrape of his teeth drawing a moan from your lips. His own garments follow suit—his tunic and belt discarded hastily, the sound of cloth hitting stone echoing faintly in the small space.

The air between you crackles with a desperate need, the kind that’s built up over countless stolen moments, secret touches, and longing glances. There’s no pretense here, no titles or duties—only the raw, unfiltered connection between you. Harwin’s hands slide down your waist, gripping your hips firmly as he lifts you, pressing you harder against the wall. You wrap your legs around him instinctively, gasping as you feel him against you, hard and ready. The anticipation coils tightly in your belly, every nerve alive with want.

His eyes meet yours for a fleeting moment, and in them, you see everything he can’t say aloud—devotion, desire, and the promise that he would burn the world for you if you asked. But words are unnecessary now. You reach down, guiding him until he’s pressed right where you need him most. There’s a brief, charged pause—a moment where everything hangs on the edge—and then he pushes into you in one smooth, powerful motion.

The world tilts, pleasure and need blurring everything else as he sets a rhythm, hard and fast, the way he knows you both like it. It’s familiar and yet never loses its edge—each thrust, each gasp, sending sparks of electricity through you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, biting down on the rough skin to muffle your cries, while his own growls of pleasure vibrate against your ear. His hands grip you tightly, fingers digging into your flesh as he moves, driving into you with a force that leaves you breathless.

But it’s not just the physical pleasure that binds you in this moment. It’s the intimacy, the shared understanding that this is where you both belong—together, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. Here, you are not a princess, and he is not merely the son of the Hand. Here, you are simply two people who have found something rare and precious, something that defies the rules of the world you live in.

He kisses you again, slower this time, a searing heat beneath the tenderness as he deepens the connection between you. Your bodies move in sync, finding that perfect rhythm that drives you both higher, closer to the edge. You can feel it building, a tightening coil of pleasure that threatens to snap at any moment. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a desperate plea, and he responds with your name in kind, low and reverent.

The world narrows to just the two of you—the heat of his body, the rough press of stone at your back, the intoxicating scent of sweat and desire. And then, with one final thrust, the tension breaks, pleasure crashing over you like a wave, drowning you in bliss. Harwin follows a heartbeat later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he buries himself deep, his body trembling with the force of his release.

For a long moment, neither of you move, the air thick with the aftermath of your passion. You stay entwined, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath, your heartbeats slowing in tandem. His hands are still on you, holding you as if he’s afraid you might slip away even now. And for a moment, the world is quiet, all worries and responsibilities forgotten in the haze of sated desire.

But reality is never far away. Slowly, you both come back to yourselves, and he reluctantly pulls back, letting you slide down until your feet touch the ground once more. There’s a flicker of regret in his eyes, a wish that this moment could last longer, but he says nothing as he helps you adjust your gown, his touch gentle now.

You smooth down your skirts, fixing your hair with a practiced ease, though the flush of your skin and the brightness in your eyes would give you away to anyone who looked closely enough. Harwin lingers, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a soft, almost reverent caress. “You always make me chase you,” he murmurs, his voice laced with fondness.“

And you always catch me,” you reply, the smile on your lips tinged with affection. “Perhaps I simply enjoy the chase.”

He chuckles, but there’s a seriousness in his gaze as he cups your face in his hands, holding you still for a moment longer. “One day, I won’t let you run again,” he says quietly, the promise heavy in the air.

You don’t answer, not with words. Instead, you lean up to kiss him one last time, slow and lingering, tasting the bittersweet mix of what you have and what you cannot yet fully claim. When you pull away, you give him a final smile before slipping out of the shadows and back into the world where duty and decorum await.

Harwin remains behind, watching you go with a look that holds both longing and resolve. He knows this is far from over.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Everything and More

summary: The reader finds herself completely and utterly exhausted, and her husband takes care of her. Plays in the same universe as "I am his and he is mine" but can totally be read as a standalone

notes: I used my Strong!OCs names for this oneshot, but they have no connection to this story. I just love the names and decided to reuse one of them.

warnings: smut, afab!reader, dom/sub dynamics, soft!dom harwin, harwin calls reader his queen :)

tagged:  @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @a-beaverhousen @ilikeitbetterangsty (msg me to be added/removed to any taglist)

masterlist | based on this request

Alaric Strong had to be the babe with the largest lung capacity in the entire world. Again and again, you rocked your firstborn son, praying to the Gods that he would fall asleep. In the Westerlands, it was common to have an army of wetnurses to care for a babe, but Harwin was of the Riverlands, where even one wetnurse was not always common.

You had decided that you wanted to keep to his tradition, which meant that you had to wait another few minutes until you could hand over Alaric for the night. Truly, you loved your son with all your heart, but there was also another headaches beginning to pound away in your skull, and Harwin was always busy with the City Watch.

When the wetnurse finally did arrive, you almost feel to your knees then and there, smiling at her as she took your son out of your arms.

She told you to take a rest with a motherly smile, and you felt your eyes water from exhaustion on the spot. Still, you pushed that down and began to drag yourself to your chambers, only a few steps away.

Alaric’s cries faded in the background as you opened the door to your shared bedroom. You’d already asked the maid to run a bath for you after not having showered for a week, but as you saw the dinner that was spread out in front of you, you only sat down at the table silently.

The smell of roast, potatoes and gravy, soft bread and tomatoes filled your nose as you sat at the table. In one bowl, you spotted strawberries so red they could only have been imported from your home, the Westerlands.

As the other door to your husband’s solar opened, you dragged yourself to stand up. It was a thing of respect to greet your husband, a manner that had been hammered into you by your mother for as long as you remembered.

“My lord.” You greeted tiredly, your knees protesting as you gave a small curtsy. Harwin quickly closed the distance between the two of you, helping you sit. He took your hand, a kiss dusting your knuckles.

“My wife. My queen.” He greeted quietly.

“How was the City Watch?” you asked, beginning to assemble his plate. You knew that, in the evenings, Harwin preferred a smaller cut of meat, so you gave him a larger portion of potatoes instead. Gently, Harwin held your wrist, and you looked up at him, confused.

“Rest.” Harwin said. “I owe you an apology. I had not realised how tiring it was to take care of my son until the wetnurse almost smacked some sense into me. I am sorry, my wife, for not taking care of you earlier.”

He took the plate, making another as you liked it and handing it to you.

You barely managed your prayer before you began to eat, not having realised how hungry you’d been up until now. Harwin ate more slowly, and you could feel his eyes on you. His gaze was usually something you could read, but today, a range of emotions seemed to be hidden behind gentle brown eyes.

“Alaric is growing fast.” You said, clearing your plate. “He is healthy, and the wetnurse says he’s one of the most intelligent babes she’s ever taken care of.”

“No doubt all thanks to you.” Harwin replied with a small smile. You snorted, trying to clear the table before Harwin stopped you and did so himself.

Harwin only sighed, letting the servants carry out the remainders of dinner. As they bustled around in the room, you saw some of them returning with buckets of hot water, filling your tub to the brim. Another servant carried a small tube with expensive oil, pouring some of it into the water.

You wanted to protest, but by the time you thought you had found the courage, Harwin had already sent the servants away.

He made to help you with your dress, and you wanted to stop him again.

“I reek.” You said.

“Precisely the purpose of this bath. And even so, you do not.” Harwin assured. “You have helped me bathe after long days of patrolling Flea Bottom. Please, let me help you.”

With a sigh, you nodded, letting Harwin unlace your dress. You pulled your shift over your head quickly, sinking into the hot water with a sigh. With a man like Harwin, no one would expect gentleness from him at first glance.

You had learned to expect just that. Carefully, he unwound your hair, taking out braids and pins until the pull on it disappeared and you felt as if you could breathe normally again. You rubbed your temples in annoyance.

The hair itself was not too bad, but wearing it for an entire day was a whole other story.

Harwin was already attending to it by the time you leaned back, carefully washing your tresses before he moved on to your shoulders, working the knots out of them. You sighed in relief, smiling up at him.

Gently, Harwin kissed your cheek before he returned to work, large hands kneading your neck and shoulders, before he began working on your back.

“Thank you for this.” You mumbled, and Harwin smiled.

“Anything for my lady.” He replied.

“I thought I was your queen.” You joked, and Harwin sighed.

“Oh gods, how could I forget. My lady, my queen. The mother of my child.”

You turned around, placing your arms onto the edge of the tub and looked up at Harwin again. He knelt down at the side of the tub, until his and your face were at one height. You kissed him without hesitation, letting Harwin hold you as he always did, his arms security in an unsure world as the Red Keep.

“I was going to keep going.” Harwin whispered, but the darkness in his pupils told you he was already thinking of something else. Your smile lingered for a moment, before you turned back around, excitement growing in your belly.

“Go on then.” You said calmly, your tone almost as commanding as his sometimes was. Harwin let out a rasp of a laugh, his hands dutifully returning to your shoulders. It did not escape your notice that he let them drift lower, fingers dipping below the water and ghosting over your chest. You tried not to shiver as a thrill ran through you.

Between everything, it had been too long.

You waited, anticipating Harwin’s next move as his hands dipped under the water, shamelessly palming your breasts. There was no way in all seven hells that you could let him know the effect he was already having on you. Yet.

As tension began to gather in your stomach, you bit down on your lower lip, hands not-so-idly playing with water.

Then, you sat up straight, sweetly asking Harwin for your towel. You swore you could hear him chuckling under his breath.

“My queen.” He said dryly, holding out the fabric for you. You stood, taking it from him calmly and wrapping yourself in the towel.

“Now that will not do.” Harwin mused.

“No?”

“Not at all. You look so much more beautiful without the towel.” Harwin replied. You were sure he could see your blush, and still, you maintained your façade.

“Really?” you managed, your voice shaky.

“Yes, really. I would never lie to my queen.”

You held out your hand, Harwin steadying you as you stepped out of your bath. He adjusted your towel, pulling it a little higher as if he cared for your modesty.

“Wouldn’t want my queen to be dressed improperly.” He said. You laughed at that, holding the towel with one hand and his face with the other, kissing him with a smile. You could feel him smiling as he kissed you back, and in that moment, you felt inexplicably relieved.

Soon, the kiss turned hungry, and Harwin was guiding you away from your already cold bath and towards your shared bed.

“There’s no need for a towel.” He rasped. “No need.”

You nodded, your hand dropping from your chest and instead steadying yourself on his. Quickly, you made work of his doublet, the thick garment dropping to the floor. Harwin broke the kiss, taking his time to look at you.

Long gone were the times where you would have covered yourself, now much too comfortable to think of your insecurities. Harwin would have incessantly reminded you of how beautiful he found you anyway, and, though you loved your husband, you had no time for talk tonight.

Harwin hoisted you up, setting you down on the bed as he undid his tunic and breeches. You laughed as he kissed up your stomach, his beard tickling you.

“What is it you want, my love? Hmm?” Harwin asked as he reached your neck.

“I don’t know.” You replied mindlessly, pulling him up to kiss you.

“That will not do.” Harwin sighed. “Good queens use their words to get what they want.”

You paused for a moment, trying to think through the thick haze of your mind. Then, you smiled at him.

“Do you remember our wedding night?” you asked quietly. You remembered how Harwin had spent what had to be hours between your legs, only to make sure that you were fully comfortable with him.

“How could I forget?” Harwin replied. “Is that what you want? For me to kiss your cunt until you’re squirming?”

You nodded, smiling at him perhaps too enthusiastically, for Harwin bared his teeth in a smile you knew you’d remember later on. His mouth wandered downwards, Harwin taking his time to mark you, sucking lovebites into your breasts and onto your thighs.

Impatiently, you tried to have him where you wanted him, but Harwin simply laughed against your inner thighs, the vibration just enough to be felt. He teased you, stretching minutes into an eternity as he kissed and licked your thighs, moving just around the points of pleasure you wanted him to be at.

He wants you to break down, to beg for it like a good wife, like the good little lady he trained you to be, and you’re too desperate not to. Your thighs wrap around his head in an attempt to push him down, but your husband is the strongest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms, and so, he only laughs.

“Please, Harwin.” You whine. “You promised. Please, please-“

It is little encouragement that he needs in order to return between your thighs, this time licking a stripe up your cunt that leaves you reeling. Despite what little he has done, you are ridiculously close.

His hands are everywhere, grasping yours, groping your breasts, pulling you closer, teasing you. They circle your hole, dipping inside of you carefully, almost experimentally. And then, he pushed inside of you, fingers curling up and your eyes rolled backwards, mouth open in a silent plea.

Suddenly, all the patience was gone from Harwin. It was always like this. He could control himself as long as you could, and when you lost control, truly began to squirm under him, he did not hold back any longer either. And why should he? You deserved this.

His mouth was on you in a feverish, obsessive way, Harwin licking you like he was a starving man. Before you could say anything else, he crooked his fingers up again, rubbing against that sweet spot and sucking your clit until you saw stars. The coil in your belly snapped, and you distantly heard yourself moaning his name.

Harwin did not stop, he kept going until you felt hot and the pleasure became too much.

“Please, Harwin, I can’t.” you gasped, and he paused, looking up at you.

“Already?” he laughed, his mouth back on you before you before you could answer, your nod left unseen.

“Please, Harwin, please. I need to-“ you gasped, and Harwin slowly lessened his onslaught, moving from your cunt to your thighs, until he was face to face with you again. His face glistened with your juices, and still, Harwin kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You grabbed his hips in a desperation to have him buried inside you, and Harwin obliged, filling you up so quickly that it left you gasping, hands pawing at his back as he thrust forward.

“Let us make another.” He said, eyes still dark, smile still predatory. How you loved seeing him like this.

“What?” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“We should make a baby.” He said. “A little sister for our son. Please, my love.”

You nodded almost automatically, and Harwin let his hand wrap around the back of your neck. He kissed you hungrily, as if he hadn’t already had enough from you, but you returned his actions with equal fervour.

“Gods, how I love you.” Harwin whispered, his kisses warm on your neck.  

And when his movements became more uncoordinated, and Harwin’s hips began to stutter, you held him close, so incredibly close that it was easy to forget everything else.

“We should get married anew.” He said afterwards.

“And why is that?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t mind having this every night.” Harwin simply laughed. You felt that you were right where you needed to be.