Want Me

Want Me

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You're Rhaenyra's lady in waiting, by her side at all times and thus leading you to spend many hours within Ser Harwin's company, drawing the two of you together

Warnings: Smut, mentioned violence, swearing, angst (if you squint), fluff

A/N: Hi, small warning, haven't written a full smut scene for a while so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy :)

"Want me to kill him?" You absentmindedly offer to Princess Rhaenyra. 

She chuckles from behind you, her fellow ladies attempting to hide their smirks and smiles whilst they finish up her hair. "I know how much you crave violence, but I can not allow you to kill him. Besides, how would you even do it?"

You pause in the mirror, your eyes flickering to find Rhaenyra's. "Seduction is a woman's greatest strength." You whirl around to face her, a cruel expression etching into your face at the thought. "A simple poison into his drink and during the night he'd cease breathing and the Maestor would declare a heart attack. An easy kill, if I say so myself," 

The princess raises her eyebrows, her lips pursing together. Tonight is her name day feast, celebrating another year of her youth and thus drawing in all the potential suitors wishing to offer themselves. One of the Lannister twins made a fool of himself, offending Rhaenyra and thus resulting in you plotting his death, should your princess command it. 

As her lady in waiting, you take your role very seriously. Though, you are oft referred to as her sister, the two of you becoming close at a young age and growing up together. It has solidified your relationship with her, and in turn, you know each other inside and out. 

Your sharp words and cunning nature are a breath of fresh air as opposed to the customary expectations of Rhaenyra's fellow ladies. 

You glance over yourself once more in the mirror, your attention spanning over the finer details of your gown and the excellent work of the seamstress. The dress accentuates your frame, the embroidery and accessories dating back to your House and heritage. 

You look like a woman, a woman grown and of power. 

"Are you ready?" Rhaenyra pulls you from yourself, twirling around to give you a full look at her. 

"Indeed, and must I say my Princess, you look divine." You tell her honestly. 

She smiles, the two of you making your way to the great hall. Heads turn at the sight of you both, the heir to seven kingdoms and her fierce lady, who would protect her more so than a knight. 

Your stomach begins to twist as you near the hall, your teeth grinding together to keep the nerves at bay. You feel a reassuring squeeze on your hand, your dear friend sensing your change in behaviour. 

"If he doesn't fall at your feet and beg for your hand, I'll feed him to Syrax myself," she whispers. 

You bite your tongue, though a small smile creeps out. In the past moons, you've become acquainted with a knight, the two of you sharing passions and dreams. Nothing more of talk has happened thus far, but you can't help but think that maybe he will ask for your hand in marriage, as the two of you spend most days side by side. 

He makes your heart beat rapidly, with the small gestures and whispered words when no one is close. Not to mention, the way he looks at you, like no one else exists but you. 

Yet, you can't help but think that you're in way over your head, too consumed to see the reality. 

You have no time to ponder Rhaenyra's words, as the two of you arrive at the hall, the chatter dying down instantly. Swallowing, you hold your head high, following Rhaenyra down the stairs and toward the high table where you veer off to your own. 

His eyes were on you the moment you appeared, refusing to leave even as you sit down. You look absolutely breathtaking. 

Of course, you avoid his gaze, even from across the room, as you begin to fill your plate. Your skin ignites under his heated stare, your desire overweighting your sense of propriety. Glancing up, you meet him, his deep blue eyes burning into your darkest depths and tearing down every wall you've ever built. 

Ser Harwin Strong, renowned for his strength throughout the seven kingdoms and his proud house. 

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity, neither of you daring to break contact. You admire how he's dressed, his fine threaded clothes making him look regal, his unruly curls neatly pulled back into a bun. Gods.

The grumble of your stomach brings you to your senses, your head bowing down to begin consuming your food. You feel him continue for a heartbeat longer, before he diverts his attention elsewhere. 

As the night begins to progress, you drag Rhaenyra to dance, moving with the music and enjoying yourself. You change partners throughout, making yourself known and extending yourself to the other lords and ladies currently attending for the princess's name day. 

For once, Harwin doesn't grace your thoughts, until he becomes your next partner. 

Your eyes widen for a moment, your breath catching. "Ser-" you start, not expecting to see him. 

"My lady, you look exquisite." His rasps, his body feathering your own. 

His heat wraps around you like wild vines, pulling and tugging you closer, enticing you to become lost. You hit your chin out, refusing to fall prey. 

"And you, good Ser," 

Harwin smiles, a hum of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His hand brushes your own, a part of him needing to touch you, his resolve almost snapping from the softness of your flesh. His fingers itch to press firmly, to warn off any man or lord that dare think they have a chance with you. 

"Are you enjoying yourself, this evening?" He asks, his lips close to your ear as to make sure you hear him over the loud music. 

You turn your head, his breath fanning your cheek. Heat pools within your stomach, want gnawing at you and demanding to be free. "I'll enjoy myself once I've had my dessert," you dare. 

His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Little minx. Before he can conjure his own smart remark, a fellow knight of the city watch approaches, pulling him away from you. You watch him go without a word, a sense of humiliation washing over you as you continue to dance alone, searching for Rhaenyra. 

You find her with her uncle, enjoying themselves. 

Biting your lip, you move off the dance floor, standing on the sideline. You feel deflated, watching your friends enjoy themselves and even sneak out of the hall with their suitors, and your heart's deepest love couldn't even excuse himself. He just left you. 

You see him, surrounded by his companions, and more so with an older woman hanging off him. Now you feel stupid, your usual confidence and ego a ghost. The woman wraps an arm around his waist, much like a partner, and him not moving. 

Of fucking course, I'm just the plaything to keep him entertained whilst his lover is elsewhere. 

Grinding your jaw in anger, you inhale deeply and begin to make your way through the crowd, ignoring Harwin and his group as you have to pass them to ascend the stairs out of the hall. Your hasty exit catches many people's attention, especially the one you were hoping wouldn't notice. 

You don't realise he follows you, until you almost reach your quarters. His boots hit the ground harshly, as he tries to catch you, going as far as calling out your name. You pause in front of your doors, whirling around to face him once he draws near. 

Fire dances within your eyes, making Harwin pause momentarily. "Ser Harwin?" You snap. 

"I wanted to make sure you're well, you left in such a hurry," 

"I'm fine," you start, your thumb running over your fingers anxiously. "The hall became too much, so I'm retiring for the evening." 

Harwin tilts his head. He calls bullshit. He knows you, he grew up alongside you and knows that you are one of the last to leave the party, oft enjoying yourself too much to notice the sunrise and thus requiring an escort, usually him. 

He reads your body language, depicting your sudden mood change has something to do with him. He chuckles lightly, amusement etching across his features at your frustrated glare. "You're jealous." 

"Jealous?!" You repeat in disbelief, your raised voice echoing the corridor. "Me? Of what?" You ask him incredulously. You naturally begin to step closer, "of that woman? Why would I be jealous of some wench when I am the Princesses lady in waiting, I can have almost any suitor I want, I have sway within these walls and no one quite realises the extent I'll go to if I'm pushed, not to mention," you stop just shy of him, your chest heaving. "One word to my Princess, and I can have whatever I want." 

Harwin peers down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips at your outburst. "I never said what you were jealous of," he says lowly, almost inaudible if not for your closeness. "I'll be sure to tell my sister you think she's a wench." 

Your world crashes and burns. Sister? That was his fucking sister?! Your heart ceases beating, your breath catches in your throat and your skin clams up. Realisation and dread wash over you, embarrassment etching into your cheeks. You become a wounded animal, and respond much as they do, 

"Fuck you." You don't know what compels you or who takes over your body, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out and sending them straight at Harwin. 

He blinks. 

Quickly you spin on your heel and make haste to your door, pulling the handle to only have it slammed shut, and a large body pressing against you. Your throat constricts, feeling Harwin's entire front against your back as his hand looms over your head, keeping the door closed. 

One small movement, and he could bury his nose into your hair. "Say that again," his chest rumbles, his mouth angling down to press on your ear. To make sure you hear him loud and clear. 

You're frozen, your body shutting down. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "Go on, don't go shy on me now, my lady," he presses, pushing you. 

Licking your lips, you hesitantly shift on the spot, leaning your back against the door and tilting your head to hold Harwin's gaze. He pins you down, the entirety of his body caging you in, almost like a shield protecting you from peering eyes. 

"Fuck you," you whisper. 

Reflexively, his other hand snaps to your jaw, his fingers digging into the skin. Your lips part, your muscles relax and your body becoming a rag doll. He could very easily suffocate you like he was bunching up a piece of parchment, he wouldn't even feel your bones snap. Yet, in this very moment, your thighs press together, your garment becoming soaked with each passing second. 

You know he won't hurt you. His hold on you is firm and delicate, the pads of his fingers gently holding you in place. He tilts his head, assessing you like he would an opponent, his dark eyes roaming your face and his brows twitching in thought. 

You test the waters, standing straighter and in turn bumping your nose into his cheek. Harwin exhales shakily, his grip tightening if only a smidge, in comparison to his self-restraint. You nudge your nose against his, his hooded eyes following your every move. 

Your breath tangles with his own, desire and hunger transpiring. Harwin's jaw clenches, his palm against the door closing into a fist. You want him, he wants you. Swallowing thickly, your lashes feather your cheeks and you take the plunge, pressing your lips against his own with uncertainty. 

For a moment, you float, your body becoming weightless and your mind lost. His lips are softer than you imagined, despite his harsh reputation, soft and plump on your own. Harwin responds, before suddenly pulling you away by his grip still on your jaw. 

A bucket of cold water drenches you, his sudden cold demeanour creating a crack in your heart. Not so much that he pulled you away, more how forcible it was, after he began to lose himself under the taste of you. That hurts. 

Your eyes flash. You move to release yourself from his grip, but he tightens it, his head turning slightly as though to check for any movement within the corridor. With precision, he pulls you flush to his body and opens the door in one movement, shoving you inside to your quarters and locking the door behind him. 

"You naïve girl," he starts, running a hand over his beard. 

You scoff, creating distance between the two of you by standing at the window sill. "And they say romance is dead." 

Harwin narrows at you. "You have no idea what you've just done, what if someone had seen?" His voice raises, his hand gesturing to the doors. 

Confusion swirls within you at his sudden change of behaviour, at his switch from intimacy to frustration in an upsetting kind of way. "I don't see the problem," you cross your arms, raising a brow. "I want you, and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks." 

"Well, you should!" You're taken aback by his sudden outburst, a sliver of fear creeping up your spine. "I am not good for you," he says your name with such emotion. "I have enemies at every turn, I can't be at your side protecting you every day and not to mention what would happen to your reputation-" 

"My reputation?" You cut him off, your voice low in disbelief of what you're hearing. "You think I give a fuck about my reputation! About your enemies? Gods Harwin," you begin to pace, your hands running over your head and falling against your neck. "How fucking dense are you?" 

He attempts to ignore the hiccup in his heart rate at the way his name rolls off your tongue. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself," you start after calming down a notch. You cross the room, standing before the brute and taking his large hands in your own. "Is it that hard to believe that I want you? That I don't care about everything else, about your history and reputation, about the fucking court gossip and your enemies? All I care about is you, your health and well-being, and that I know you'd never hurt me, physically and emotionally. I know you'd die protecting me, and you'd make me feel so loved, despite that shield you put in front of yourself every day." 

Harwin brings your hands to his lips, brushing them over your delicate fingers whilst he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment. His coarse beard caresses your skin, planting the idea of how it would feel between your thighs. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you drop your hands down, beating him to it. "You want me Harwin?" your voice pulls to him, lulling him in. "I am right here, otherwise there's the door," you gesture. 

Your chest clenches at the thought of him turning his back. You wonder how he could kiss you back, then cough up some bullshit about him being bad for you. It confuses and wounds you. 

His lips part, the cogs turning in his head as he makes his decision. He surges forward, gently taking your head in his hands and angling you upward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

He walks you back until you hit the pillar, careful not to slam you into it. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue begging for entrance and his breath meddling with your own. Your fingers curl onto the front of his jacket, squeezing out any air left between you, your fronts pressing tightly. 

Your lungs burn, your actions becoming erratic as you move up to his hair, tangling his curls and removing the band keeping it back. You pull at the roots, emitting a deep groan from Harwin, his own hands gliding down your body to find refuge on your waist. 

You pour all your emotions into the kiss; the hunger, lusting, anger and need. He dominates you, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, his teeth nipping along your bone and travelling to your neck, unknowingly finding your sweet spot. 

You bite your lip at the sound you release, a small sense of embarrassment flooding your body. Harwin immediately comes up, holding you still with his hard stare. "Don't you dare quieten on me." 

"Like your girls loud, Ser Harwin?" 

He chooses to ignore your comment. You smirk, your usual demeanour washing into the shore, a calculating look flashing in your eye. Before he can do anything you shove him back, pushing him down onto the lounge. 

Surprise is evident on his face, his eyes watching you curiously. You crouch between his spread legs, your palms sliding over his thighs in a soothing manner, slowly making your way to his waistband. 

You quite like this image; his unruly dark curls free and framing his face, his intense eyes swallowing you whole and his knees bent outward. He looks casual, yet so fucking handsome you have to restrain yourself from fucking him there. 

"Don't look at me like that," you scold, tugging on his pants. 

"Like what," he grumbles, lifting his hips. 

His pants pool at his feet, his hardened cock free from restraints. "Like I don't know what I'm doing." He eyes you suspiciously, waiting for you to shut down his thoughts. "I've been fucked before, if that's what you're wondering." 

He hums in dissatisfaction. 

"I'll decide if you've been fucked, my lady." You raise a brow at the title. 

He opens his mouth to say something more, but only a loud groan escapes, your lips wrapping around his cock. His hips reflexively jut, his hand moving to your head in response to your movements, your tongue flattening along the underside. 

Harwin shudders, his chest rising in deep pants under your ministrations and his fingers flexing in an attempt to hold himself back from face fucking you. You work him steadily, glancing up at him through your lashes and feeling a sense of pride roll down your spine at his dishevelled state, his head lolling over the back of the lounge. 

"Fuck," he curses, tilting down to hold your gaze. 

You move a hand to work the rest of his cock that you can't fit in his mouth, momentarily pausing when he grabs your wrist, and quickly heaves you off him. "You do that, and this night ends very quickly." 

"I find it hard to believe that Breakbones finishes in under twenty seconds," you muse, slipping out his grip easily and situating yourself on his lap.

He groans quietly, both in frustration and need. "Believe me, my lady, that when I cum, I intend on cumming in you and filling you up." 

"Good." 

You begin undoing his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms before moving to his shirt, heaving it up and revealing his toned stomach. Your fingers splay across his chest, feeling his hard-earned muscles and scars from various fights. You pause on a particularly large wound along his abdomen, feathering the pink tissue. 

"Don't worry about it," he whispers your name, reading the emotion on your face. 

"This is an assassination attempt, Harwin." You press, flickering up to hold his stare. "Someone almost succeeded in fucking killing you." Unwanted tears spring in your eyes, raw emotion thick within your voice.

The thought of Harwin being killed, frightens the fuck out of you. 

He cups your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping a tear. "This is what I meant," he refers to his previous statement about his enemies. You still, your features hardening. 

"Don't you dare, Harwin. Don't you fucking dare." You spit. 

He stays silent, observing you whilst your fingers continue their path along his torso, grazing each other his scars. "Seven Hells help the next man that makes an attempt on your life," you vow, your hand splaying out over his heart. 

"My little warrior," he rasps, pulling you down to him. 

Your lips collide, the taste of him invading your mouth and stealing your breath away. You whimper at the feel of his hands sliding up your arms and resting on your collarbone, toying with your dress. Blindingly he reaches for the lace tying it together, pulling it apart and loosening the top section. 

Goosebumps rise along your flesh as Harwin gently tugs the dress down your arms, exposing your breasts and stomach once it pools around your hips. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, gasping under the ministrations of his hands along your breasts, his thumb tweaking the bud. 

You thread through his curls, your nails scraping his scalp and your lips seeking out his neck. 

Suddenly he lifts you off him, placing you down on your feet. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and a little confusion, unsure of his next motive. "Take it off," he commands softly, the low rumble in his chest making your heart rate spike. 

The dress falls to your feet and you step out of it, mindful of taking off your shoes and being left bare before him. He slowly takes his boots off, never breaking contact even whilst he removes his pants. 

You watch him stand, tilting your head as he comes near. He doesn't speak, nor does he kiss you again. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms coming to the back do his neck. 

He walks toward your bed, gingerly laying you down. You stare up at him with adoration, every fibre of your body knowing you're safe with this man. Despite his reputation, you could almost laugh, knowing that there is a softer, more caring side to him than anyone realises.

No one has ever touched you like you're glass, like you could shatter and slip through his fingers. He kisses you with so much passion and care, in stark contrast to his daily goings. You've witnessed him in a brawl, smashing the men to the ground without a worry and pummelling them to an inch of their life. 

Yet you know, these hands handle you with love. 

You slide up to the head of the bed, brushing the hair from Harwin's face when he comes to hover above you. He descends, missing your face entirely and planting kisses along your neck, slowly travelling south. 

Airy breaths leave you, your body responding to his attention, more so as he pauses over your breasts, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and tugging. Fire pools within your stomach, threatening to pour out. In a way it does, your head falling back into the cushions and your lips parting to release sounds of pleasure. 

Harwin continues his way down, his eyes flickering up to you through his loose curls, intently watching your reaction as he nears between your thighs, softly blowing cool air on your sensitive region. You grit your teeth, glaring down at him. 

"Hurry up." 

"As my lady commands," he chuckles. 

Your flush at the incredibly loud moan, not exactly expecting him to dive right in. Harwin drags his tongue up your slit, finding your clit and sucking. He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking, groaning lowly to himself at watching you writhe under him. 

He draws more sounds out of you, snaking a hand up to tease your opening, carefully entering a finger. "Fuck!" You arch your back, your hands reaching for his hair. 

He slowly pumps it out of you, enjoying the way you feel around him. He can only imagine how tight you'd be around his cock. The thought almost makes him fuck you right here. 

Your stomach twists, your knuckles turning white. No man has made you feel like this, even with just his mouth and finger, the two bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

He adds a second finger, wanting to properly prepare you for him, and enjoying watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's giving you. 

He can feel you get close, teetering along the edge as he begins to increase his pace. You whimper at the ache, rutting your hips upward. "Harwin," you whine at the contact of his lips enclosing over your clit and sucking, hard. 

The fire burns brighter, scorchingly hot and desperate for a release. 

"Let go," he murmurs, gently nipping your clit. You do, your orgasm crashing down like a wave, engulfing you. 

He slowly continues to move his fingers through, allowing you to experience your high as he draws it out. He can't help but clean you up before he even thinks about moving away from the safety of your thighs. 

With ease, Harwin climbs back up, claiming your lips. You taste yourself, rummaging your hands through his hair and down his back, his muscles rippling under the pads of your fingers. 

He pulls away from you, question shining in his eyes; do you still want this?

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, solidifying your answer. He hums, guiding his cock to press against your slit, teasing you for a moment before he nudges your opening. You gasp on his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders at every inch. 

Harwin falls into the crook of your neck, groaning at the sensation. He stops moving once you've taken all you can, pausing to make sure you're comfortable. You clench around him in reflex, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest, his beard grazing your neck. 

"Harwin," you pant. "If you don't move in the next five seconds," 

He chuckles at your warning, slowly pulling back. You bite your lip, closing your eyes at the high pleasure rocking throughout your body. Harwin lifts his head, his forehead brushing your own. He intends to watch you complete shatter underneath him. 

He slams home, somewhat slow but hard, rutting into you like wild waves against a rock, your back arching and pressing your chest to his. You can't help but rake your nails down Harwin's back, ignorant to the fact that you're close to drawing blood, desperate for a way to show how easily he's unravelled you. 

"Gods Harwin," you cry out at each thrust, harder and deeper than before. 

He grins, his lips on your ear, "I know quiet isn't exactly in your nature, but maybe don't alert everyone in the Red Keep of our rendezvous." 

"Oh fuck off."

Harwin reaches for the headboard, his knuckles turning white from his harsh grip, using it as leverage to pound harder. You chant his name, subconsciously clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to falter each time. 

That burning ache brews within you, gradually growing with each slide into you. His free hand comes down to your clit, playing with the bud and drawing you closer to the edge. Overwhelming sensations spark up your body, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure. 

"Harwin," you whine. 

"I know," he grits, picking up his pace. He hits parts of you that you never knew existed, fireworks erupting each time he enters you deeper, if that were possible. "Good girl, you're taking me so well, hmm?"

Your head is tilted up by his hand leaving the headboard to cup the side of your face, forcing your eyes on him. You struggle to keep your eyes open, a drowsy, drunken look coming across you. 

Without warning, you let go, bursting around him. "Gods, fuck!" Harwin calls your name, following you over. He couldn't last any longer, not after feeling you come undone from him. 

You gape in a silent moan, relishing in the feeling of him fill you up, his hips slowing but not yet relenting. You shiver from the sensitivity, thankful for when he stops. You struggle to hold contact, fatigue seeping in. 

You sigh at the feeling of him remove himself, your muscles relaxing and your spine calming. You don't see where Harwin moves off to, until he comes back and murmurs for you to spread your legs, gently wiping his seed from your thighs. 

For a moment, you wonder what happens now. Does he just leave? Does he stay? What happens between the two of you? Thoughts rummage, ruining your come down. 

"Hey," he brushes your forehead. "Come here." He pulls the sheets back, indicating for you to crawl underneath. All those thoughts are momentarily thrown out the window when he slides in beside you, pulling you to him. 

You lay in silence, your head on his chest and your hand playing with his loose curls. "What happens now?" You can't help but ask. 

"Now?" He hums, his chest vibrating. "You become my lady wife, and I fuck you whenever I please." 

You laugh, rolling further into him. "You better, now that I've given you my maidenhood." 

He pulls away slightly, making you look at him. "What? You told me that this wasn't your first-" he stops, reading the glint in your eye and the expression on your face. "You cheeky girl, almost gave me a heart failure." 

You grin cheekily, not quite saying anything whilst you comb his hair. You've found yourself with an obsession. "Leave your hair like this," you say lowly, loving the way it frames his face. 

"But it gets in my way," he grumbles, swatting your hand away. 

"And I like it like this," you counter, going for his curls again, but this time running your nails along his scalp, smirking at his groan. "And I think you secretly like it too." He gives you the side eye, taking your other hand and bringing it to his lips.

All That Could Have Been | Harwin Strong

Happiness and sorrow go hand in hand these days. He laughs with joy and aches inside all the same.

You look at him and see all that could have been.

He sits close to you so carefully.

“You must know, surely. You must know I did not come into this agreement to avoid responsibility. I would give up my name, my sword, my life the moment you asked me to.”

“I know that.” you kiss his hand where it lies beneath your chin, urging you to look at him, “Just as I know you would never ask me to do the same.”

“And I would spend every day next to you, from dusk till dawn if possible.”

The babe stirs in his arms and everything quiets for a moment.

You sound tired, sleepy almost, and it is no wonder why. Exhaustion is finally taking over.

“Where would we live?”

Harwin smiles at your question and hands you a pillow with his free hand, aiding in your comfort. You lean back immediately as your body succumbs to the sweet gesture.

“A stone house near water, but not the sea. Just enough to water our plants… the children could play outside.”

“You would become a farmer?”

“To feed our family, I would. No need would ever come to you.”

“I am most certain of that.”

The way he looks at you is heart-wrenching.

“And what else?”

Your eyes shut gently and all that exists is his voice and the soft breathing of your child.

“We would all sit by the fire and I would hear you sing to them at night. We could name one after my father. I would teach them to protect themselves; you would teach them to be kind…There would never be a day away from you.”

Sleep overtakes you and he gives you the chance to finally rest, seizing perhaps the only opportunity to spend the littlest of time with the two of you. 

That is the cost. He would never ask you to do the same.

A/N: I am a broken person.

rewards | harwin x reader

harwin strong x stark!reader

warnings - fem!reader, death of an animal, hunting, minor violence

notes - this one is basically just major simping on harwin's end. fluff fluff fluff.

The sun was beaming down on the three men who were settled down near a bush in the thick forest. They were silently stalking a large boar who was now foraging on a bush abundant with tiny fruits just a few feet away from them. 

“Perhaps we shall pursue it now?”

“Silence. Not yet, trust me I’ve had lots of experience back in Winterfell” the young Stark boy whispered with a cocky grin. 

Harwin tried to suppress his eyes from rolling while he watched the two boys argue amongst themselves, as much as he loved to hunt, there was no pleasure in doing it when his companions were barely tolerable. Perhaps he should have stayed at the camp with his brother to skin the animals instead. At this point, listening to the ladies gossiping would have been a better option. 

But his thoughts were cut short when he heard a sudden screech, his gaze snapping back to where the boar that was once grazing in front of them was now squirming in its own blood. When had that happened? He swore he had only taken his eyes off the beast for a few seconds. He turned to the other men who looked just as confused and wide-eyed. 

“I fear you were too slow boys” a feminine voice yelled with pride from behind them followed by the loud hooves of her horse.  

The Stark boy groaned loudly, “Sister, shouldn’t you be conversing with the other ladies back at camp?”

“And where is the fun in that brother?” She asked with a teasing smile, as she effortlessly jumped off her horse and brushed past the men staring at her in awe, excluding her brother of course whose face was painted in irritation. 

Harwin stared in shock as he watched the woman drop to her knees, paying no heed to how muddy she became while swiftly pulling the arrow out of the boar only to deliver the final blow by thrusting a large steel dagger into its heart. Her hair and dress were now splattered with blood but it didn’t matter how much dirt or blood she was covered in, Harwin thought she was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. 

“Must we have that talk again sister? What is father going to say when he notices you are missing?” 

Y/n stopped in her tracks before turning on her heels to look at her brother, “have I hurt your pride that much? Would you like to take this boar back to camp in my stead? Will you pretend you caught it all by your lonesome because you can’t handle the fact that a woman has outdone you?” 

“You ungrat-” her brother yelled in pure rage, lunging towards her but before he could even get near her a large hand grasped onto the boy’s back and slammed him to the ground. It all had happened so fast, Harwin’s instincts had gotten the better of him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have intervened, but he wasn’t just going to stand there and watch a man physically assaulting a woman in front of him. When he turned to check on the woman, she was gone, already on her horse riding away. 

When Harwin returned to camp it was already nightfall, Robert Stark had definitely given him an earful as they rode back to camp about how he would be facing repercussions for attacking the next heir of Winterfell but that was the least of his concerns. In truth, he hadn’t stopped thinking about the woman in the forest he wanted nothing more than to find her but what would he even say to her? He didn’t even know her name, the only thing he could gather was that she was the daughter of Lord Rickon Stark and Robert was her pitiful brother. 

“Brother if I may ask, why are so consumed by the Starks?” Larys asked. Harwin was never one to scrutinize or pry into other people’s business let alone show much interest in any house other than their own. So when Harwin had sought out his brother with the intention of asking for information about the Stark family, to say Larys was surprised was an understatement. 

“It is merely out of curiosity.”

Larys raised an eyebrow, not convinced by his brother’s obvious fib. “Well, y/n is the eldest child of Rickon Stark. But due to her sex, she has been denied the inheritance which has been passed to Robert the second born. So Robert will be the next heir of Winterfell, it is rumored that Robert is betrothed to the daughter of a smaller house in the North.”

“And what of Lady y/n?” Harwin asked, internally cringing from the desperation in his voice, hoping his brother did not hear it as well. But when he noticed Larys’ smug grin his embarrassment only grew more.

 “Ah, so it’s Lady y/n who has caught your attention? Careful brother, they say the Starks are quite bonded to their direwolves and Lady y/n is no exception. You may be the strongest man in all of the Seven Kingdoms but a direwolf would tear you to shreds.” 

“Do not jest, brother,” Harwin grumbled, annoyance getting the better of him as he stood up from his seat and took his leave, not wanting to hear any more of his brother’s teasing. 

In hopes to silence his racing thoughts, he took solace near the bonfire outside while everyone was busying themselves and enjoying the feasts in honor of Aegon’s second name day. 

“I believe I never thanked you for earlier” a soft voice called out from behind him. 

He nearly felt his heart jump out of his chest when he turned in the direction of the voice and was met face to face with the mystery woman from the forest. She was in a new clean dress with a grey embroidered direwolf adorning her chest, her hair no longer tied up but now combed out to frame her face beautifully. Harwin was never one to fawn over a woman blindly, but with the way she stood in front of him, he would have fallen to his knees if she commanded him to. 

“A thank you is not necessary, Lady Stark.” 

“I apologize for my brother. He has a tendency to lash out, I pray he didn’t cause too much trouble,” she said with a grim smile on her face, walking towards Harwin to stand next to him in front of the bonfire. The warm orange hue of the fire danced across her delicate skin, mesmerizing him with her beauty alone. 

“He did me no harm,” he responded, forcing himself to look away knowing that if he continued to stare at her, he would give himself away immediately from just the look on his face. The last thing he wanted was for her to think of him as a fool. 

“I should have expected nothing less from Ser Breakbones,” she teased, making his heart pound against his chest and cheeks warm in embarrassment, he’s never hated that name more than in this very moment. 

“I must confess I was more concerned about your wellbeing. But from the way you hunt, surely I was underestimating you.”

“You flatter me, Ser Harwin. Perhaps we shall hunt together sometime soon, superior hunter wins.”

“A challenge?” 

“If you’d like to see it that way.” 

“And what will my reward be when I win?” he asked, completely turning to face her now a sudden rush of confidence running through his veins. 

“When you win?” she repeated, mocking his boldness. “Well, if you are so confident Ser Harwin, name your prize and I will provide it.”

“You. I want you.” 

matters of the heart.

harwin strong x reader

on princess rhaenyra's wedding night, harwin couldn't help but grow jealous as he watched daemon dance with you.

warnings: fem! reader, smut, angst, daemon being a menace, reader is called "princess", jealous harwin, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, size kink, overstim, pussy drunk harwin, praise, body worship, possessiveness, breeding kink. MDNI/18+ only.

word count: 2.1k

note: just watched the new episode and I'm down bad for him so can we all agree that ser harwin strong is the hottest knight in all of westeros?

— i don't give anyone permission to translate/copy my works. If you enjoyed please consider reblogging or leaving feedback <3

Harwin watched with a clenched jaw from the sidelines as the rogue prince twirled you around, his hand resting close on the small of your back while he whispered something hilarious in your ear because you just broke out in a soft giggle.

"Say princess, should we ditch the wedding and take to our own sources of entertainment?" Daemon's words had a grin stretching on your lips, "I think that ought to offend our families, my prince."

"It ought to offend more than just our families." The targaryen smirked, his eyes catching onto harwin's as he pulled you flush against his torso,

"such as the commander of the city watch for instance." Daemon's lips brushed against your ear, "he appears to be quite taken with you,"

You scoff in response, "and yet he'd rarely ever speak to me." Daemon chuckling at you made you roll your eyes,

"you're mistaken, princess. That boy is clearly smitten at the likes of you." He spun you around, lips ghosting above yours as he said that.

Before he could advance, he was yanked off you firmly but subtly, "it's rude to interrupt a dance like this," Daemon speaks, looking at the man who just shoved him away, "breakbones."

"Ser harwin—" you start but harwin's arm around your waist leads you away from the silver haired prince, "I think I'll have the next dance, if you don't mind," he said through gritted teeth, "my prince." You could feel the disarming tension between them.

"That was quite the show you put on there," you said in a hushed voice as the knight led you across the dance floor, "I'm sorry, princess."

But you know he isn't sorry. Not one bit. Especially when daemon was intentionally trying to get on his nerves by getting too cozy with you right in front of him, knowing full well of the way harwin pined for you.

To be honest, you thought daemon was just bored and needed to fuck things up but he couldn't do that on a greater scale because his brother would be upon him the very next instance. So he settled for passing off the young Strong as compensation.

"Would you escort me to my room, ser?" You whisper, tilting your chin up to look at the knight who was leading you on the next dance as the song started, "I think I'm quite tired from all the ordeals as of today,"

harwin seemed to hesitate for a moment before complying with his lips pressed in a tight line. His large hand remained on the small of your back as he helped you through the crowd, his warmth bleeding into your skin just from the simple contact, leaving tingles running through your spine,

"good night, princess." He spoke up as you came upon your door, "don't be so uptight, ser harwin." You smiled at him and he had to admit that it made him melt a bit, "come in, join me for a drink or two."

With a sigh, he gave in. It's too easy, you thought but then again it takes little effort to convince someone to do something they desire. Its the matters of the heart at play here.

"Say commander," you start with a slight slur after sipping on your glass of wine as your companion settled in the seat opposite to you, "what was all that about?"

Harwin gulped down his initial words before speaking, "my apologies, princess. It was rude of me to interrupt your time with prince daemon,"

You rose from your chair, walking around the table and towards him, "Then why'd you do it?"

Shifting in his seat, harwin's eyes followed you, "You deserve better than him. Someone who isn't," resting your palms on the armrest of his chair, you leaned in close to his face, "a scheming scumbag, someone who didn't abandon his wife—" his breath hitched once you straddled his lap, you'd knees bracketing his thick thighs,

"sounds like you'd make a perfect candidate," you bring your hands up to cup his face gently and he's tempted to give in to your feather light touch. His eyes almost fluttering close when your thumb strokes along his jaw,

"I can't." He replies, his jaw clenched tight and his hands coming up to rest on your waist to hold you in place,

"I'm not a prince." There's a slight melancholy in his eyes as he says that, "you're a princess and you deserve a prince who will take good care of you, who will rule beside you—"

"I don't want a prince, I didn't choose a prince, i chose you," your words hush him up, putting him under a spell as he watched you close in the distance between, "ser harwin strong," you whisper against his lips, "I want you."

Your hips bucked against his to accentuate your words and it was his breaking point just as soon as the next words left your lips, "cause I love you and I refuse to be stick in a loveless marriage with some prince—"

harwin's huge palms were cradling the sides of your face and his lips were upon yours in an instance. All the restrained emotions broke through and poured into the kiss, letting you feel his devotion and him absorbing your desperation thoroughly.

Your fingers tugged on the strings of his vest in haste, letting the fabric loosen and expose his broad chest to you while your lips moved against his,

"I won't let that happen to you." Harwin's voice is a gentle whisper soothing your heart. He held your wrist in his larger hand, leading you to press your palm against his chest, where his heart is, "I pledge myself to you, y/n."

A smile crawled on your lips at his sincerity, "and I accept you, harwin." Your hand slid up to curl around the back of his neck, "you're mine as I am yours."

Your lips collide as he stands up with you tugging away at his clothes while his hands wasted no time in sliding your gown off of your body before they hooked under your thighs, "I love you," he whispers breathlessly as he carried you over to your bed effortlessly, dropping you gently on the luxurious cushions,

"my beautiful princess," his huge palms cupping the swell of your breasts fully, "all mine to claim," he managed to say before his mouth descended upon your breast, lips wrapping around your nipple while his hand paid attention to the other one, rolling the bud in between his fingers and relishing in the soft gasps he pulled from you,

"mine to worship," he whispered into your skin, leaving a trail of feathery kisses down your torso, "and mine to destroy."

Harwin's thumb glossed over your glistening cunt, his other hand settling on your thigh in an attempt to hold your legs apart. But seeing how easily his fingers slid inside, he couldn't help but chuckle, "you're soaking the sheets, princess." The thought of being the first one to see you like this, to make you go crazy with desire, had blood rushing to his cock.

"Just fuck me, harwin," you breathe with an air of need, "calm down, I need to prepare you or I'll break you apart." His snicker only added more oil to the fire,

"I can take you." You sniped, holding his gaze in a challenge till he pulled his fingers out with a smirk only to replace them with the head of his cock lined up at your entrance,

"Are you sure about this?" He asked again, "yes, need you inside me," your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, "please, harwin," even though your voice was barely audible, he heard it.

And oh did it make his reign of control snap, "fine," harwin said just before shoving his cock inside your tight little cunt,

"fuck!" You cried out, nails digging crimson crescents on his back as his muscles flexed under your very touch, "you alright, princess?" Concern spiked his tone as he halted in his movements, "Do you want me to pull out?"

"No," your teeth worried your lower lip cautiously, "you're too fuckin' big, 's all." The short chuckle you're met with makes you huff and slam your fists against his chest softly, "perhaps it will not be an appropriate time to say I told you so."

"Fuck," you curse under your breath as he shifts slightly due to the fits of his laughter, the movement causing both of you to groan as his cock stroked against your walls,

"fuck you and your," you paused to bite back a soft moan, "stupidly big cock," Harwin grinned at your words, "that's what you're currently doing, princess."

He pulled out almost all the way, leaving just his tip inside before thrusting back in, your slick helping him slide in effortlessly while your back arched with his name on your lips as he fucked you, "for what it's worth, you're doing really well for your first time,"

The burn of being stretched set your nerves alight, "shut up and fuck me," you hiss, tears welling up in your eyes as your cunt clenched tight around him, desperate for more. The glassy look in your eyes made something snap inside your knight, "as my lady wishes,"

Rolling his hips into yours, he rasped, voice thick with lust, "I will fuck you till i am all that remains in your mind," he spoke in a deep grunt as he thrust inside your pussy, hard.

Your pussy flutters around his length with a breeze of moan falling from your lips. Harwin leans over to take your trembling lips in a kiss, "you're gorgeous."

His balls slapped against your skin while the wet squelches of your cunt sucking in his cock floods the room, "I cannot wait to see you coming undone beneath me," his hand grabs yours, intertwining your fingers with his as his hips snapped into yours at a steady pace.

Each drag of his cock settling heavy against your walls, the sheer girth of him making hot droplets of tears spill down your cheeks which harwin was quick enough to kiss away, "you are taking it so well," his whispers of praise had little moans rumbling at the back of your throat, "being so good for me,"

A strained chuckle was on his lips as you bucked up into his thrusts, "the princess wants more?" His inquiry was met with a hungry kiss as your fingers tangled in his brown curls and pulled him forward, "always." You whine, breathless, "I must abide by your order then," he picked up his pace, going deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips,

"You are mine," he couldn't help but grit out, the sudden image of daemon pulling you against his body with his hands all over you made his voice drop an octave, "not Daemon's, not anyone else's,"

"All yours," you comfort him, tugging on his hair and biting on his lower lip, "fill me up, harwin." His eyes widened in slight shock before a grin spread on his lips.

His forehead dropped on yours as his thrusts grew sloppy, deep grunts mixing with your moans as you both neared your high,

"harwin," you came with his name rolling off your tongue in a desperate plea while he almost growled, his chest vibrating with the animalistic sound as his hot cum filled up your twitching cunt. Dropping beside you, harwin heaved.

A silence dawning upon you two as you caught your breath before harwin turned towards you with a warm smile,

"marry me, princess."

By Your Side

warnings: mentions of death/hanging (very brief), forced to marry jason lannister, f!targaryen!reader, not proofread

summary: as a targaryen, you must do your duty to strengthen your family’s alliances. that means marrying whoever your father chooses, regardless of your love for someone else.

author’s note: more harwin woooo. also I just know harwin would hate and beat up jason lannister without question.

You had never been so envious of Rhaenyra.

You hadn’t minded when she had been made heir, you’d been happy for her. You didn’t care that your father favored her, that she was ‘the realm’s delight’– you were content to be hidden behind her shadow.

But one thing you would always be jealous of was how your father allowed her a choice.

He had allowed her a choice of who to marry before she wedded Ser Laenor– a choice that was not afforded to you.

Viserys had grown ill– and quite frankly tired– of fighting with his daughters on political matters. So, after Rhaenyra’s chaotic wedding to Laenor and the binding of the houses Targaryen and Velaryon, it was your turn.

The King announced your betrothal with no ceremony. He requested you attended a meeting of the small council a week after Rhaenyra’s wedding, which was of no surprise to you. Your father often requested either you or Rhaenyra to attend and listen in on the going ons of Westeros.

But this council was different. As you sat in your chair, your fingers fiddling with the small dragon glass sphere in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. With one daughter wedded, you knew that your father would seek to marry you off, too.

“Princess,” it was the lord hand, Lyonel Strong speaking. “If it please the King, I was hoping you would consider my eldest son, Harwin, as your husband. I know you have many suitors asking for your hand–”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your father beat you to it.

“I apologize, Lord Lyonel, but I have already betrothed my daughter to another. She is to marry Lord Jason, of House Lannister.”

You resisted the urge to gag, anger and jealousy bubbling in your gut like a boiling pot about to overflow. Your hand clasped the dragon glass sphere fiercely, your knuckles whitening at the force.

“Father, if I may–” you began, but Viserys waved a hand and shook his head.

“You may not. It is settled. He is Lord of Casterly Rock, and a strengthened alliance between our families is of utmost importance.”

You shut your mouth, teeth grinding together in discontent and rage.

The remainder of the council meeting went by agonizingly slow. You sat there quietly, jaw clenched as you toyed with the seams of your dress. You could feel the occasional pair of eyes watching you, but you kept your gaze trained on the table in front of you.

As soon as you father rose and the council was dismissed, you sprung from your chair. Your walk was swift as you practically ran from the chamber, pushing through the heavy wooden doors and into the corridor.

Ser Harwin Strong, your personal guard, was waiting for you by the doors. At your abrupt exit he startled, straightening and following you without hesitation.

“Princess, if you would slow–” he began from behind you, quite surprised at your speed. He had never seen you so eager to be away from a place– or perhaps he had never seen you so worked up about something.

Harwin had been your personal guard since Rhaenyra’s naming as heir. Although most men vied for the chance to protect the future queen, he set his sights on you.

Your father had granted him the position with no protest. From then on, Harwin had been a constant figure in your life. Sure, you’d met him before he became attached to your hip. Rhaenyra had introduced you to him numerous times– but you never spoken beyond that.

Perhaps you were guilty of stealing glances when you thought he was not looking, or wishing he would ask you to dance at a festival. So what? Wishes seldom came true.

But then he became your guard, and your attraction to him reared it’s head. It was no secret he admired you– both from afar and up close. But you were slow to allow yourself to admire him.

However, after years of being together nearly every day, you either learn to love someone or you learn to hate them. Luckily for Ser Harwin, you learned to love him.

That made this whole predicament so much more difficult.

“I will not,” you threw over your shoulder, your feet stomping up the stone stairs as you made your way through the castle.

You heard Harwin mumble something behind you, but you paid him no mind as you stormed past corridor after corridor. Finally, you made it to the royal apartments.

You threw open the door to your chambers, attempting to slam it closed behind you, only to be stopped by Harwin’s large figure.

He slipped into the room, shutting the door softly behind him and turning the lock. You ignored him as you threw yourself down onto a lounge, eyes watching the tall ceiling.

“Princess, what is the matter? You practically ran here,” there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but the moment you turned your icy gaze to him, he sobered.

“My father,” you spoke the words distastefully. “Has decided it is my turn to be wed.”

Harwin hummed as he approached your lounge, his hands clasped behind his back.

“No worries, Princess. I’m sure that my father will speak to the King.”

“He did,” you stated bitterly. “The King would not hear it. I am betrothed to Lord Jason Lannister.”

Harwin said nothing. He crouched beside you, his gloved hands reaching for yours. You allowed him to take them, breathing heavily through your nose as you thought of your now bleak future.

Jason Lannister was notorious for being an ass. Rhaenyra had corroborated that statement more than once during her time searching for a husband. She had narrowly dodged his attempts for her hand, but you had not been so lucky.

“It seems that my father has learned his lesson through my sister. I am not afforded the choice of a husband. Instead, I must mary this vile man and be forced to bear his vile children.”

Harwin chuckled softly, pressing his lips to your knuckles. You turned your head, eyes narrowed as you looked upon your knight.

“You find that amusing?” You questioned.

“I find you amusing, your highness. Your dramatics are quite entertaining.” He pulled back from your hands in favor of looking into your eyes.

“This is not meant for entertainment, Ser Harwin. This is a serious matter.”

“Most serious, Princess.” He replied, lips turning up in a teasing grin.

You huffed, pulling your hands from his and shifting your body in the lounge. Now you lay with your back towards him.

“It is not the end of the world, my love. You are strong, and you will not let a leech like Jason Lannister change that.”

“He will not change it,” you confirmed, your back still turned. “But what will he do to try? I cannot imagine being forced to spend days and nights with him. From what Rhaenyra has said of him, he seems truly awful.”

“I will be with you,” Harwin spoke. His hands moved to your side, gently pulling you back towards him. You went without protest.

He captured your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your face so you would have to look at him.

“I will be with you,” he repeated, his eyes locked with yours. “I will never let him do what you do not want him to do. I will not leave your side, and I will not stop loving you, no matter the lord you marry.”

“Careful, Ser Harwin,” your voice was low as you spoke, humor creeping into it as your lips quirked up in a small smile. “Such talk is treasonous. A princess and her knight? What would the realm think?”

“I do not care,” he answered honestly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Let them hang me. If it were up to me, you and I would leave this place and escape to Harrenhal. You would be my lady wife and we’d do whatever we pleased.”

You did not speak for a moment, weighing your thoughts and words.

“I do not see why my father refused your father. A union between the families of the King and his Hand–”

“Your father is doing what he believes is best. The Lannisters are powerful allies,” Harwin interrupted.

“Mayhaps, but I believe we have stronger allies closer.”

“Mhm,” Harwin hummed. “How much closer?”

You grinned, brushing your nose against his. “Oh, I dunno, maybe on this corridor?”

“That far?” He replied.

“This room?” You tried.

“A little closer.” He said.

“Mayhaps right beside me?” You giggled.

He smiled at the sound of your laugh. Harwin tilted his chin then, brushing his lips on yours.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. If it were up to you, you would stay in this moment forever. But it wasn’t up to you, and duty was a cruel mistress.

“We could always run away,” you told him, your voice a whisper.

“You and I both know we are bound to our duties.” He responded, and you sighed.

“No more dwelling on this matter,” he spoke after a moment, his lips just barely touching yours as he talked. “It does no good to worry.”

You hummed in agreement, eager to free yourself from those thoughts– if only for a moment. You pressed your lips to Harwin’s and he responded quickly. The kiss was soft, full of unspoken love and promises between the two of you.

That was one thing you loved about Harwin. He was subtle with his affections, but he was also so protective of those he loved. You knew that everything he said had been true– that he would gladly die if it meant he got to love you for a moment longer.

And although you would not marry him, you knew what you had would not falter. Harwin had been there before, and he would be there after, Jason Lannister be damned. The pair of you had snuck around for years, what’s a few more?

Harwin pulled back from you, one gloved hand coming up to cup your cheek. His thumb traced the line of your cheekbone as he looked at you fondly.

“I wish I could stay longer, but I fear my father would have my head. I’m to see him about matters with the City Watch.”

You nodded in understanding. You reached out a hand, brushing a stray curl from his eyes.

“Farewell, Ser Harwin. I’m to be at the dragon pit soon, anyway.”

He stood, his touch lingering until he could no longer reach your face. You sat up, watching as he bowed his head, gave you a small grin, and said a quick ‘princess.’

You watched him leave, and you didn’t rise until the wooden door closed behind him, already wishing that things were different like you had so many times before.

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 | 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞.

⊹ fandom house of the dragon

⊹ pairing ser harwin strong x reader

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

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

⊹ warnings fighting, hotd spoiler for 1.05

⊹ word count 1305

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The floor disappears from under your feet.

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

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

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

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

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

Then he slaps your ass.

“I said, stop moving!”

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

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

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

“You can’t put me above Rhaenyra!”

“Can’t I?”

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

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

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

Loved.

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

“Does it hurt?” he asks softly.

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

“Who did it?”

“Harwin.”

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

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

“You can’t do that again,” he says.

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

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

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

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

You raise your brows. “Oh, will you?”

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

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

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

“Marry me and be mine.”

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

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

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