#harwin strong x original female character

[simpingland]

The queen's horse with no name || Ser Harwin Strong x Targaryen!reader

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Request: I wanted to ask if you can make a Harwin Strong x Targaryen reader story but instead of being the second born daughter she's the first born and the heir to the throne and you can base it on that scene where Rhaenyra comes back all bloodied and stuff

Thank you

She hated the carriage, she absolutely hated it. She felt stupid on it, all the rumbling, the smell of being so surrounded of more horses, the darkness and how fucking slow it was. Her father, King Viserys hurried her to join, along with her younger sister Rhaenyra, the heavily pregnant Alicent and the damn baby Aegon. No, it was an absolute "no".

"Father, may I fly there?" asked Elaena.

"Fly there? Are you out of your mind, Ela? Get on the carriage right now" said Viserys.

"What about I ride my horse?"

The King looked at her with denial eyes. Her sister tried to help.

"Father, I think you should let her take the horse, or she will take the dragon without your consent and you know that" Rhaenyra looked at Elaena and her begging frown.

"Elaena, you can't control your horse enough to ride it alone"

"Well, there's about one hundred men following us, i wouldn't consider that "riding alone". Well, father, i do control my beautiful Kyrax, I'll change my clothes in a mo--" She was cut by Viserys.

"Alright, alright, ride your damn horse...you better behave, Elaena, this hunt is an opportunity for you" the King entered the carriage, and Rhaenyra smiled at her sister, but she didn't return it.

"Cheer up, my princess, no lord would dare to approach you once they see your horrible riding"

"Oh, you are such a funny girl, Rhaenyra..."said Ela, faking a smile. "The lords will found you so charming, you won't be able to find time for your dear Ser Cristan..."

"Well, the real winner of the hunt will be the one who gets Ser Jason Lannister's marriage proposal" answers Nyra.

Both girls laughed before going separate ways. Elaena ask for her horse to be prepared. The ostler couldn't hide his confused face (also a terrified face) as the request.

"I'm not that bad, alright?...It's not my first time..." she said to the poor boy. That was true, but the fact the Elaena didn't even named her horse spoke a lot about their bond. It was a beautiful one, all brown, the shade of cinnamon and strong as the King's horse. It was a proper horse for the future Queen, maybe she should give the animal more attention.

It was easy to catch the royal family's carriage, the horse picked up a very fast pace, maybe a exaggerating fast pace, Eleana pretended that she chose that, ignoring the worring glances of Ser Harrold. She dared to knock one of the windows and her sister wasted no time of showing her little silver head to see her older sister embarrassing herself.

"Have you tamed the beast already, Ela?"

"Of course...she was already tamed" the words left her mouth and the horse started to walk the opposite direction, creating a sudden distant between the Targaryens. Rhaenyra laughed.

"YEAH, I CAN SEE THAT" screamed Rhaenyra, the only way for her voice to reach her.

"THAT WAS MY WILLING...HE SMELLS AEGON'S SHIT"

Rhaenyra closed the window, laughing shamelessly to the future queen. Hope she's bored as seven hells, wished Ela. Every men accompanying the family kept an eye on the princess, she kept on losing control of her horse, sometimes she would gallop so fast that Ser Criston rode on her rescue, other times she would jog so slowly that it was Ser Harrold the one waiting for her. The road was starting to feel eternal and the beautiful braids of Elaena started to fall apart. Good thing it was Rhaenyra the one who know how to braid them back.

They finally arrived, at least the carriage did, because Elaena was still a few feet behind, trying to hurry the creature. She could hear the lords clapping at her baby brother, praising the incredible wonder of keeping him alive...or being born a man. To be fair, that accomplish couldn't be done by Elaena, she'll give him that. Meanwhile, she got her horse to run fast, maybe too fast. The bond was so inexistente that the princess started to ride in circles instead of stopping.

"WHOA! WHOA..." soother a male deep voice "pull the reins firmly but slowly, my princess, tell him to stop"

"I'VE ALREADY TOLD HIM TO STOP" yelled the princess, frustrated and blushing with anger.

"He feels your discomfort, he's confused" the men got closer to the horse and continued to calm the horse. Elaena didn't even look who he was, but give it a try to pull the reins tighter, and finally, the horse stopped. She took a moment to go down, breathing out her frustration. "Let me help you down, my princess".

She got down alone, without even responding, it was then when she finally looked at the men. Handsome, brunette, fur coat, half ponytail, big and wide.

"Thanks for offering help, Ser Harwin"

"Everything for the princess" he couldn't hide a smile, offering, as if he didn't ended up helping her.

She nodded back when Ser Harwin gave her the formal bow. He was known as "breakbones", a funny nickname for the first son of one of the most intelligent man on court. She had spoke little to him, well, she has barely interacted with him. Elaena didn't expected to be the kind of man who knew how to treat horses. He was the type of men that only needed to raise a bit his voice to make thing fall on his feets. But he had approach her, patiently smoothing her horse and smile at a rejection.

She entered the biggest camp, to his family, trying to ignore the man behind her, who obviously walked the same direction, where his father probably waited for him too. She didn't expected all eyes on her, stupid expectation know that she thinks about it more. Not only was she the future queen, she had made a fuss with her graceless entrance on the stupid horse, she was late and her hair made her look like she just woke up from a nightmare. Nothing was going on her way that day. Her father scolded her with his eyes, Rhaenyra didn't laugh, because she could see Ela on the verge of tears, and Alicent did her the favor of speaking loudly to the reuniting court, giving an early "thank you for coming" speech and made it more interesting by announcing the possible names of the future baby. So when Elaena walked to her family, less eyes followed her, Harwin's were one of the few.

"You and your pigheadness" said Viserys. It was a terrible word to make yourself look angry, but both girls knew he was really upset. "I hope you enjoyed the ride, at the very least"

She said nothing, she couldn't lie about it. Rhaenyra took her sister by the hand and discreetly took her out of the camp, sitting her to fix her braids.

"I'll confess to you, the carriage was exhausting. Aegon did in fact shitted himself the moment we got out of the Red Keep and it smelled like shit the entire road. Father couldn't stop talking about future suitors...And Alicent...everyday I find it harder to stand her" Rhaenyra finished her job, expecting to make her older sister laugh, but she only smiled sadly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you, sister" said Ela, entering the camp again.

Viserys stopped his oldest softly. He was in the middle of a conversation with the Hand, Otto.

"Ela, how would you like to participate? On the hunt?" he said.

"I'm not sure why I must" she absolutly hated hunts.

"Because you are my daughter... The Princess. And you have duties" he hardened his look.

"As I am ceaselessly reminded" she hardened her voice.

"You wouldn't need to be reminded if you ever attended to them"

"No one's here for me" and she turned her back to her father.

The lords were having dull conversations, or disgusting conversations, Ela couldn't choose which one was a better option, so she got closer to the woman's chatting center.

"My Lord husband says that no King has even been able to tame the Stepstones for long. It's an inhospitable place suited only for savages" spoke Alicent. She just entered the circle when Joselyn Redwyne centerded the attention back to her, Rhaenyra by her side as well.

"Perhaps the Princess can give us some insight" said Redwyne

She chucked at the little discretion of the mature lady "Oh, I'm not sure how I could. I've never been to the Stepstones"

"Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war...is he not?" Insisted the lady.

"I wouldn't know. I've not spoken to Daemon in years" Ela was beggining to lost her patience again.

"Since you supplanted him as heir" her dog started to eat her cake and even with that, Elaena could still feel the humiliation. "What about you, Princes Rhaenyra? It is known that you had a closer relationship with Prince Daemon"

That was a comment worthy of a trial, an insinuation and everyone could notice, by the venom tone she used to said the words. Before any of the girls could responde, Alicent put curtesy over violence.

"Daemon made his choices, Lady Ceira. The Princess was more suited to the role" and she then smiled to Elaena.

"He's made a mess and the King must put an end to it. Send fleets and men and clear out the Triarchy for good". Insisted the woman.

"But the crown is not at war" said the princess.

"The crown... is at war, Princess. Though your father refuses to admit it, we've been dragged into it by your uncle and The Sea Snake". Thats the thing about good manners, they don't work for long.

"And how have you served the realm of late, Lady Redwyne, by eating cake?" Responded Rhaenyra.

"The Royal discussions and relationships of a family who is not your own is none of your concern, Lady Redwyne. I hope that you keep your circle of "friends" away from rumors or misinformation, for your own good". Elaena left the camp, the entire chating group silence.

A bit of fresh air will do no wrong, and she was willing to enjoy it. She caught a glimpse of Ser Harwin, he caught her looking and, for the hundredth time on that day, she mentally curses herself. He was enjoying a beer, alone, while a few more men spoke beside him. He slowly got closer to her, but said nothing.

She couldn't bear it. It's not that it was awkward, it was just weird, to have a high born lord close to her stay silent. All her septas lessons on manners flashing her mind.

"May I help you, Ser?" She side-eyed him.

"Oh, no, no, princess. I just wanted to see what you find so fascinating, admiring the view" she know realized, that she stopped in that spot suddenly, like she has been nailed to the floor. He was acting as if he didn't noticed how fucking weird the princess was acting. But he had noticed and she noticed that he noticed her. "A beautiful creature...your horse" spoke Harwin. She must have guess, he was a bit of an asshole too.

"I can't even come up with a name for it" she spilled.

"Well, my princess, that is a primary thing for bonding"

"You have any suggestions, Ser?" She asked, sarcasm in her voice.

"Laps" he said, a smile on. "I named my first horse "Shitter" because he left shits at every corner we rode".

"Well, Ser Harwin, I'm not naming my horse after an annoying trait, I'm not twelve years old..." even tho I ride like like one... she thought.

"It was the suggestion that came into my mind. It worked for me..." said Harwin, he know that the princess was close to throwing a tantrum, and the last thing he wanted was causing it. Maybe, he wondered, I should shut up at this very moment. He wasn't good with words and he found it hard to express himself, you just can't go around spilling your raw thoughts to the future queen...but how was he supposed to tell her that she had the biggest balls on the Realm... He just can't greet her with "Well my princess, you have the damn guts every single time..." it wouldnt be proper (but why tho?). So he did what it was supposed to be done to show respect, he kept silent.

"I ride a dragon, you know?" She was now losing it. Harwin looked at her, and she turned to him. "All this fucking people, with their fucking carriages look at me because I can't control my fucking horse... and they dare to look at me as if a was a fool, a mediocre one even..."

"My princess, I'll have to dis--" Ser Harwin was rudely interrupted by a Lord, Jace fucking Lannister, no less.

"Princess Elaena, how stunning you look today" he greeted, exaggerating his bow. Ser Harwin didn't wish to leave the princess but he was about to when she included him in the conversation, a clear yell for help.

"Thank you, Ser...?" she looked at Harwin.

"This is Ser Jason, my princess, a Lannister" answered him "his twin is on the co--"

"Tyland, yes" he interrupted again, clearly irritated "he serves Your Grace at King's Landing...my twin".

"An identical one" said Ela.

"Well, yes...some think us identical..."

"The princess does thinks that to..." said Harwin, testing him.

"Well, you must be right, princess, but i keep my hair as the traditional style on Casterly Rock, long as the lions..."

"Very pretty and shiny, sure it must be soft too..." interrupted the princess, mocking the high Lord as well.

Jason unsuccessfully forced a laugh "indeed, princess. The water in Casterly Rock is clear as the sky on a spring morning, sweet as a kiss and it purifies the body as the gods themselves" Ela shoot a side look at Ser Harwin, he corresponded with a side smirk, doing their best not to laugh "a pity my brother came out of our mother after me...but he wasn't destined for ruling one of the biggest hou--"

"How can you be sure they didn't switch you when you were babies" interrupted the princess again. Jason Lannister could not believe the conversation but he couldn't tell the princess to cut the shit up.

"Yes, thats right, princess, as identical twins it was very easy for the septas to confuse you both at least once or twice... maybe you were the second son" continued Ser Harwin, the Lord was definitely infuriated but the princess was clearly on his side, nothing could be down in front of her. "The gods may have chose the rightful heir the first but parents are human and confusion is a very human trait".

"Well, princess, I believe myself the rightful heir because I'm naturally fit for my role. Tyland, a good man, is certainly the biggest bore on court and the most spinless--"

"I keep Ser Tyland a great appreciation" said Ela "an honorable man, one of the best at court. Dont you agree, Ser Harwin?"

"I certainly do, my princess. He has a talent to speak the truth when must needed it, always informed and a great adviser " followed Harwin.

Jace had giving up, "Well, princess, I'm sure he is great at serving the King, but I can assure you...a first born heir will be better to serve a queen outside the meeting room". There it was, a shameless and straight proposal.

"Good luck finding a queen willing to lower herself for a long, pretty and soft hair...she has a wonderful water to drown herself if needed" and with that, the princess left, not before nodding goodbye to both men. Only one of them was smiling while bowing. Ser Harwin couldn't hide it as he saw the princess storm out, walking away. He was about to follow her when his father called for him at a short distance. His father must have seen everything, and if not, sure did his brother Larys, who sure would tell Ser Lyonel. He know what he would say, if the princess says goodbye, she want you out of her way. He directed himself towards them, pitying princess Rhaenyra, who didn't see Ser Jason looking at her, willing to propose again.

Ser Harwin ate with his family, he kept silence, an idea wondering his mind. What's the ideal man for a queen? Not only a simple queen, a Targaryen, the ruling queen, with one of the most terrifying creatures on her side, her most loyal partner. Who is worthy of fathering her children? A man could only wish, surely his father would say that...but a man can also fight, and ser Harwin was a fighter for what he believed, for what he respected.

The princess entered the camp a while later. Her father, who sit on a chair with a bottomless glass of wine, called for her, quite loudly, people turning. Ela went to met him fast, not wanting to anger him more, she connected the dotts when she saw Ser Jason on the camp as well, dangerously close to his king.

"Father, I hope you respect my choice of staying here..."she spoke softly "im not even skilled enough for hun--"

"I though we have taught you some manners, Ela..." he was angry and you could hear that. "You have insulted one of the highest Lords in Westeros...a future queen..."

"What insult have I directed to him, father? I really want to know...only words of appreciation have been given to him by me" she said a bit more strongly.

"Don't act fool, Elaena. You have mocked ser Jace's proposals. A very good one, and you sure know it was"

"Is that what I am to you? A prize to proffer about to the great houses?"

"You're of age, Elanea. And Jason Lannister is an excellent match" he said, Rhaenyra came to his father's side.

"He's arrogant and self-serious." Said the youngest.

"Well, I thought you might have that in common" he scalded her. Rhaenyra lowered her head. "Since you came of age, Ela, I've been slowly drowning in a lake of parchment flung from every corner of the realm. Marriage proposals, all. And I have tried often to discuss it with you, but you've refused me at every turn"

"That is because I do not wish to get married".

"Even I do not exist above tradition and duty, Elaena! You have always known your fate. All this fooling around...What would your mother think of you? She, who sacrificed herself for her duty?"

Elaena was trying to hold the tears in her eyes when Otto announced that the hunt was about to begin. Everyone saw, everyone heard. It was now Jason who smirked while Harwin looked at the princess with worry.

The princess then ran away, with her horse and Rhaenyra following. It was to late for Viserys when he noticed the two horses missing, and Ser Criston was the one guard commanded to follow them. Ser Harwin tryed to clear his mind, focusing on the hunt. He was sure Elaena was going to be alright, even tho, he hoped to hunt down any danger that appeared before it could attack his princess.

When Rhaenyra finally cought his sister, she gave Criston the order of keeping distance, giving them both privacy. By the lake, Elaena got down of her horse and stared at the water. Rhaenyra didn't need to say a word to console her sister. Ela started to cry, heavy tears. She whined on her little sister's shoulder when Rhaenyra offered it to her. Both knew what was going on, Ela just needed to suffer it a little more loudly, she was granted a good cry too. They decided to stay away until the next morning, talking about unimportant things, forgetting for a bit about the crown.

"Father is right" said Ela, "mother wished for us to become mothers"

"I do believe we'll find ourselves involucrated with a little aegon of our own sooner or later, im afraid" joked Rhaenyra.

"Oh, Rhaenyra, at least you can joke about it"

"Don't you dare think father would allow me total freedom just because I'm a second born. All i have for me is every thing you refuse to have"

"Thats a terrible thought"

"Its the truth, Ela..." she smiled "Ser Jason told me he would be willing to build me a dragon pit in casterly rock...so if you marry a mediocre lord then the good ones will come for my hand"

Ela laughed "a Targaryen princess with influence on court but not directly on the throne and therefore not in direct danger or heavy work...sounds tempting". They both laughed, and Elaena remembered something "You think a Strong would be willing to take the shadow of a king consort?"

"I hope you don't mean Ser Lyonel..." chucked Rhaenyra "you would be the most popular on his list of wifes, that's for sure"

"No, you stupid...i mean...Ser Harwin" she looked at her sister, who give her a perverse smirk "I just asked myself how would be like to ride on the second best beast wondering Westeros, that's all"

They both exploited in a fist of laughts, never minding poor and confused Ser Criston, who was to invested in the gossiping to notice the wild boar storming close. The girls screamed when it came, unluckily, Ser Criston had been thrown away by the creature, and it ran to the girls. The closer one was Elaena and she only could push it away. It was Rhaenyra the one who crossed the animal with Ser Criston's sword. The board cried in agony and the sisters caught their breaths, tightening their hands. Suddenly, the animal started to move and scream again and this time it was Elaena who pushed Rhaenyra aside and stabbed the animal. She cried in frustration and pressed the knive so hard and so fast that the blood almost showered her completly. She thought of the looks of doubts, of the disappointment on her father's voice, on the battles waiting for her and her enemies laughing at her. She let go of her anger as she made sure the beast couldn't come back to harm her or her sister. She cried until it didn't move. Rhaenyra looked at her sister but let her relax alone, and instead attended poor Ser Cristan.

The morning came with a sun and a white stag on the road back. The Targaryen girls admired the beautiful creature and smiled thinking that it survived the royal hunt. The stag looked at Elaena and she felt her fate as queen strengthening. They let the stag go peacefully, continuing they walk to the camp.

Ser Harwin spent the morning skinning some of the rabbits that came from the hunting. A mediocre one, if you asked him. No white stag was found and the King had is mind elsewhere. He had hold the brown stag for the King, wishing to put an end to the endless afternoon. They give the animal a graceless death and Ser Harwin found himself doing whatever it took to mind his own business instead of searching for the princesses.

"What did you spoke about with the princess yesterday, brother?" Asked Larys sitting beside him.

"Nothing worth mentioning, Larys...we just admired the view of the forest"

"You must have found it astonishing...you have kept quiet ever since she left your side" of course Larys had noticed, he knew his brother like the back of his hand. "The King does listen to father's advise, Harwin, maybe you could present yourself, ask father to favor you".

"Father favors Leanor Velaryon. And I'm sure the King would like the match, they'll make pure valyrian kings"

"Well, the Velaryons are quite crossed with the King, asking for their heir to stand under the shadow of a queen could be taken as an insult, more after the King's marriage with Alicent" all the woman talk of Larys was being beneficial for once, he thought Harwin stopping his peeling. "Also, it's our Father, you are his son, and I'm also a proper heir for Harrenhal, a little slower but still valid. Father loves us, I'm afraid"

Harwin tried to pay no mind to his brother, he found the idea illusional, so he kept doing his work. Horses started to get closer to the the camps and people stopped to look at the arrivals of the three. Three horses, two princesses and the knight. Ser Criston walked behind, Rhaenyra walked fast, hair and clothes full of dirt, walking her horse aside. The princess Elaena's horse was carring a big, dead boar. Harwin looked for the princess herself, she was walking slowly, covered from hips to her head of blood, her beautiful face also stained. Her expression was a mixture of harshness, of triumph and greatness. She looked at Ser Harwin, who nodded at the princess, showing her his respect and admiration. He was astonished, as everyone else, but it was Harwin's smile that showed her that the respect was pure, was true, and it was her's.

She couldn't help but smile, she smiled back at him right before passing her father, the boar left in front of his table.

The hunt was done, it was time to go back home and the question appeared again in the air. Was the princess willing to get in the carriage. No, definitely not. Everybody went back to their bussines moments before biding the royal family a proper goodbye, it was Elaena the one who interrupted Ser Harwin.

"I have decided for a name for my horse, Ser Harwin" she spoke.

"I'm glad to hear that, my princess" turned Harwin "may I know it?"

"Laps...he's named Laps" she tried not to blush. "A very childish name, thats for sure, but appropriate for a rider like me".

"You, my princess, are a dragon raider... Kyrax is a name proper for a dragon...no shame in not mastering a horse when you can ride on the air"

She smiled at the mention of her beloved dragon, not many cared to remember the name. "Well, I guess it is special to see a dragon raider losing control of a stupid horse..."

"No, my princess, the thing is that, it is special to see the future dragon raider queen walk by".

They looked at eachother right in the eyes, glips of light on both, he looked down, she looked up. Quiet, nothing else to say. She looked at herself in the reflection of his eyes, the pupils expanded but even there she could tell they were green. He looked into the violet eyes his now princess. She standed there, smiling truthfully and lovingly before carising his hand. She turned then, heading to her horse. She looked back, wanting to catch a last glipse of Ser Harwin, he found his eyes still fixed on her, he bowed softly to her and she nodded, smiling with her eyes. A silly grin appearing the moment she gave her back.

He was going to stand by her side, no matter the shadow, the blood or the fire. She believed in her, he was fighting for her.

#harwin strong imagine #harwin x reader #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #ryan corr #ryan corr imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #harwin is a faminist #harwin strong x oc #house of the dragon x oc #harwin strong x original female character

[genz420]

Beauty of Scars & Flowers - Chapter 4: Blooming Flowers and Feelings

Master List

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The day was warm, with the sun shining brightly and not a cloud in sight.  Many ladies walk with their lord husbands or with one another throughout the Gardens of the Red Keep.  Some share the latest rumours being spread around court, while some just enjoy the warmth of the sun beating down on them. 

A group of three were among the people outside enjoying the warm weather.  Princess Helaena had dragged her new friend and younger brother to accompany her for the day. She wanted Lyannas' knowledge of the flowers in the gardens and Aemond to spend time with.  The day had gone well so far, with Helaena picking out flowers she liked and then asking Lyanna to identify them before Lyanna put them in the basket she was carrying so that she could press them for {Helaena. 

Aemond had only shared a few words with either one of them.  He stood tall and walked along with them, answering the question Helaena asked in his head rather than aloud.  Part of him feared that he would be wrong when he chose to identify one of the flowers.  He wanted to be sure, not just of the name but also of the meaning and use of the flower.  

Lyanna rocked her weight from one of her feet to the other, her gaze not on Helaena or Aemond but on a group of ladies not too far away from them. Aemond stood beside her; his face held no expression, and if anything, the prince looked bored.  His shoulders were pulled back, and his hands folded before him.  Helaena was on the ground in front of a bush of powder-blue flowers with bright yellow centers; they were arranged in rounded, divergent clusters along the length of the branch.  

“This one, Lyanna?” Helaena asked as she held up a small cluster of the small powder-blue flowers. 

Aemond racked his brain for the name of the flower and the meaning.  Wanting to show off his knowledge of the flower, he had spent the past two days reading the few books the maester had on botany.  He even went as far as to ask Helaena for the books that Lyanna had given her.  

Aemond knew the flower, but the worry that he might be wrong prevented him from speaking its name.  But as Lyanna didn’t respond to his sister, he felt the silence eating away at his nerves.  After two more beats of silence, he finally chose to speak up.

“forget-me-nots, sister,” Aemond said as he shifted his weight onto one of his legs.   “A sign of fidelity and love,”

Aemond did his best to try and see from his peripheral vision if Lyanna had heard him.  He was almost sure he was correct about identifying the flower, and the only doubt sprouted from the worry that he might be wrong.

Lyanna looked back towards Helaena, and at the flowers she was kneeling at.  Slowly, she nodded to confirm that Aemond was right about the name, having heard him.  Aemond rolled his shoulders back in pride as she did so. Of course, he was right.

Helaena brought the flowers to her nose, smelling them as she spun them around.  Helaena spoke to herself, “I like them.  The colour reminds me of Dreamfyre.”

“When gifted, they mean you will never forget the person and keep them in your thoughts and heart.  The tea is good when you have a cough,” Lyanna added with a heavy sigh.  

Her tone was enough for Aemond to look away from his sister and towards her.  Lyanna's jaw was clenched, and her shoulders were tense.  He knew well enough now that he was not the reason for her shift in mood, for only moments before, she and Helaena were happily joking with one another; once giving Lyanna a once over, he forced his gaze back onto his sister. 

Helaena did not mind her friend's shift in mood, only holding out the bundle for Aemond to take.  The prince accepted the flowers and copied his sister's action of bringing them to his nose to smell them.  The small flowers had no scent, Aemond realized.

“They have no scent, and if they do, it tends to be very faint,” Lyanna told Aemond as she took the flower from him to place in the basket.   

Aemond nodded at her words, acting like he already knew that fact when he didn’t. Aemond kept his gaze on his sister rather than the lady beside him, who was looking at the flowers in her hand.  He noticed how Helaena was letting what looked like a wasp land on her finger, a small smile on his sister's face as she watched the bug.

“Helaena, be careful,” Aemond warned as he spotted the yellow and black striped bug land on his sister's finger.  

Lyanna put the flower in her basket as she looked towards her friend, worried as she heard Aemond speak. Her attention was fully back on the two siblings instead of the people around them as she said, “They are harmless, Hover Flies.” 

It was Helaena's turn to confirm Lyanna’s words as she brought the small bug on her finger closer to her face to inspect it.  Lyanna moved towards the small bundle of flowers with the bug flying around it, letting one of the bugs land on her finger.  

 “They are good for the plants, spread the pollen from the plant to others and even eat other creatures that would harm the plant,” She informed him as she held the bug close to Aemond's face.  

Aemond watched the dragonfly-like bug on Lyanna's finger. It had a face like a fly, yet the butt of the bug made him nervous because of its likeness to a wasp. Aemond looked behind Lyanna and to his sister, who was still kneeling in front of the forget-me-nots. His attention was returned to Lyanna as she reached for his hand and laid it palm up onto her own.   

Aemond can feel the warmth of Lyanna’s palm and the softness and calluses free. Aemond, one eye, watched Lyanna's face as she tried to get the fly onto his palm; her face held no sign of discomfort as their skin touched.  Only a small smile as she watched the bug crawl into his hand.  He relaxed his hand entirely on top of hers. He pried his gaze away from her face and onto the fly that crawled around his hand.  

The peaceful, distant chatter of the people around them and the sounds of the songbirds in the trees were quickly drowned out as a group of four young nobles made their way down the path they were on.  

Lyanna’s hand was grabbed in one moment, and she was ripped away and around from Aemond. The force was so strong and unexpected that some of the flowers in her basket fell onto the ground. 

“Lady Lyanna!” A young man exclaimed with a booming voice.  

Aemond watched as the man grabbed ahold of both of Lyanna’s forearms. His hands moved down her arms until he had a hold of her hands.  The man brought both of her hands up to his lips as he held them in his tight grip. 

Aemond watched as the others in the group greeted Lyanna with smiles, but none had been so forward as the man.  All he did was watch with the Hoverfly still in his hand, the same hand that Lyanna had been holding.  Now, her hands were being held and pampered with kisses by another. 

Helaena did not seem to care about the addition of new people; still focused on the flowers and bugs around her.  If she had looked away, she would have seen Aemond’s free hand move to rest on the pommel of his sword as his shoulders tensed and face hardened. 

“Ser Alan,” Lyanna had finally greeted the man. Aemond noticed her voice did not hold the same excitement as Alan's, but it was not nearly as cold as he had hoped.  

“I thought that you might be around here somewhere, enjoying the warm weather,” Alan told her as his thumbs rubbed against the back of her hands.

“Alan has been a bore and in a flawless mood once he realized you were not with your uncle,” The man, whom Aemond did not recognize, spoke up.  

Lyanna only let out a disingenuous laugh as her shoulders started to tense.  It was clear to anyone who spent a few moments with the young lady that she was uncomfortable; it would be apparent to anyone who could read body language.  

But Lyanna knew better than to embarrass a young lord in front of his friends. Instead, she just went along with what was being said and allowed the man to hold her hands.  

“You should accompany us,” One of the ladies said, a genuine smile on her face with the hope that Lyanna would join them.  

Lyanna shook her head, looking towards the lady with a kind smile as she spoke. “Princess Helaena and I are not yet done spending time with one another, but perhaps tomorrow.” 

“I hope the gods give us another beautiful day then,”  

“Perhaps My Lady Strong will come to see you in the training yard,” Aemond said as he stared down at Ser Alan.  

Part of Aemond wanted Ser Alan to agree with his words so that Lyanna would be able to see the man's lack of skill.  But Aemond watched as the man shifted on his feet under his gaze. Lyanna looked away from the man in front of her and towards Aemond.  Eyebrows slightly pulled together because of his words. 

“The training yard is no place for a woman, Prince Aemond,” Ser Alan told Aemond, which caused Lyanna to snap her head back towards him.  

She shouldn’t have been shocked at his words, but Lyanna still was.  But she knew for a fact that most of the ladies often went to watch the young knights and lords train.  She doesn’t understand why Alan did not want her to watch him, but Aemond did; the man's lack of skill was humorous to him and no doubt the man wanted to impress Lyanna with his words and not his skills.  

“Hmmm, I’m sure it will do my lady some good to see you train,” Aemond pushed on as he stepped closer to the two of them. 

“I do not think her uncle would want her in such a place,” Alan shot back, not thinking of the words he was saying. 

Aemond didn’t show any emotion on his face while Alan spoke. Instead, he showed that he was in control, with his calm posture the opposite of Alan's.  Aemond's voice was smooth as he said, “Well, she can accompany me.  I will happily escort her to watch.”

“I have already finished training for the day,” Alan made an excuse, his grip tightened on Lyanna’s hands as he narrowed his eyes at Aemond.  

“No harm can come from a few hours more,” Aemond spoke back, and the man and two ladies behind Alan looked amongst themselves as the prince shot back at Alan. 

“Not everyone has the luxury of spending the day in the yard,” Alan told Aemond; his friend nodded along with his words, but that did not stop Aemond. 

“Some lack the dedication to,“ Aemond added his own opinion, and he watched as Alan's face hardened back as he spoke.  He hit a sore spot, it seemed. 

“Are you saying I lack dedication?” Alan asked with a scoff. He took offence to Aemond’s words but was in no position to talk back to the prince or even call him out on his behaviour.  

“I did not name you, but perhaps you identify with my words,”

“I will see to it that we spend time together tomorrow, Ser Alan,” Lyanna said before Alan could respond to Aemond, gaining his attention with a smile on her face.  

Alan nodded before he brought Lyanna’s hands back up to his lips.  He placed one last kiss before letting her hands go, and he turned back to his group.  The four of them made a quick pace to leave the two royal siblings and Lyanna.  Aemond watched as Lyanna relaxed her shoulders and moved to pick up the fallen flowers that had been trampled and crushed.  

“Isn’t he charming, brother?” Helaena broke the silence as she asked Aemond.

“Certainly,” Aemond answered as he moved to help his sister up off the ground.  

Helaena doesn’t wait for Lyanna to pick up the flowers before she moves on to the next bush of flowers. But Aemond does wait, his palm still up towards the sky even though the hoverfly had long since left.  

Aemond watched as Lyanna stood up and turned back towards him; the basket of flowers was held in front of her with both hands.  Lyanna looked at Aemond and offered him a small smile.  

Aemond did not offer her a smile but instead, his arm for her to take.  

Lyanna looked between Aemond’s cold face and his extended arm, letting a few beats pass before she stepped forward and rested her hand on his arm.  

Taglist: Reply if you wished to be added to the taglist!

@sahvlren @delaynew @coldmermaidhologram @snh96

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #lyanna strong #harwin strong daughter #aemond #prince aemond #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x original character #aemond x strong!oc #helaena targaryen #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x original female character #fem oc #the beauty in scars #aemond x fem!strong #flowers as a sign of love

[tarantinolovesmyfeet]

Devotion and Desire

Summary: Nymeria finally lands in Kingslanding, but they are in the middle of a political game.

part 1

The trip from Drone was long, too long, Nymeria had gotten her sea legs but was ill the majority of the time. Barely well, Cedra dressed Nymeria up in a golden dress, there was a blood-red jewel in the bodice, and the stitching was red. The colors made her skin smooth and made her look like she was glowing. She wore a headpiece of golden chain wrapped in her hair, bold with a blood-red jewel.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” Cedra said with a smile, looking over the shaking girl. “Don’t be nervous.”

“They won’t accept me.”

“No, they might not.” She said, now fixing the chain in her hair, as she had a slight curl at the end of her hair. “But I feel like they will.”

Cedra gave her lady a warm smile, and her eyes were wise beyond her years, causing Nymeria to relax as she grabbed her hands, clinging to them for dear life. They stood alone in the young Taygaren's room, trying to settle her nerves.

“Sister.” She heard outside her chambers, causing her to inhale deeply before sighing, as Cedra smiled encouraging her.

“Brother.”

“May I come in?” He asked still at the door waiting for her to respond, as the girl shook whatever nerves.

“Yes.”

Her brother Darvos walked in, and he was in a mustard robe, which clung to his body and made his skin like butter. He smiled, walking into the room, walking with more authority than he ever had before. His sword was nestled by his head, and his dark hair looked inky under the golden sun coming from outside. Darvos looked over at his sister, smiled at her, and then back at Cedra. “You’ve done it again.” He said to Cedra but grabbed Nymeria's hand, clasping it and pulling her towards him.

“Truly beautiful Nymeria, you look like a princess.”

“I- thank you.” Nymeria smiled over at her brother, and he smiled back. He was different, more confident, more a figure in charge than he had been this whole time on the ship. It was worrisome that he was acting this way.

“It’s the Dornish way.” He said when she questioned him.

There was no greeting because they came as a surprise, but she settled up on starfyre and saw the looks from others. She held her head up high as the whispers became increasingly loud. She knows her sliver hair is enough to get people going, and she kept her head up high while she rode starfyre. She could see the many ladies whispering and talking to one another from the corner of her eye. She wanted to crawl into her skin before she was to ignore them; she saw a man, a big board man looking over at her. She tried to look at him dead on, but she was told to not look at anyone yet. She felt his eyes on her, and her skin burned; she wondered what he thought. She glanced just a second and saw a handsome man; he looked strong with a head full of curls. She gave a gentle smile, and as he smiled back, nodding his head, she quickly looked back ahead. She did not want to let anyone know her face yet

But he saw it

And she allowed him to see it.

She wondered if he would wonder if he found her beautiful or graceful; would he wonder about her? Her thoughts starched the back of her mind as she did of him. She let her mind wander, thinking of him of his strength; she thought of his curls, softening his face. She felt her stomach filled with butterflies and couldn’t contain the burning feeling within her skin.

Before she knew it, she was greeted by the king and the new young queen herself. The Queen's eyes widen, seeing the sliver hair riding on a Dornish house. King Viserys looked interested and amazed as they rode in with their horses and house banner flag high in the sky. Her mouth was dry, and her voice caught in her throat; her tongue pushed against her tongue as she looked at them. She was trying to keep all cool, but her body now burning from anticipation rather than from a smile and warm hazel eyes looking at her.

“Lady Nymeria Targaryen, lady of Dorn, house of Dayne.” She was announced and her breath was gone, and her eyes saw black spots.

“Targaryen?” Queen Alicent whispered to her husband and king, looking over toward Nymeria with many questions.

“Yes, Queen Alicent,” Darvos said now getting down his horse with ease, as he looked up to her with a dashing smile. “You see, my sister is a Targaryen as her birthright.”

“Impossible.” The hand spoke spitting out the words now glaring at the pair, especially at Nymeria as she looked down at him, with her violet hues.

“She is Targaryen as your king, she is a cousin,” Darvos said over to the young queen.

“Her dear mother was a Targaryen and should be treated as such. My sister, of silver hair and violet eyes, is the blood of the dragon,” he continued, looking over at King Viserys. “And it is her birthright to be here, to celebrate with the Princess.”

“Or to take the heir.” Otto sneered as Nymeria looked over at King Viserys with a soft but charming smile. She unmounted her horse, slowly in a theatrical way, to show she was regal, to show that she belonged. She reached the king and queen and bowed deeply, before rising up to look at the pair of them.

“I do not want to sit on the throne, my king.” She said to him. “I wish to be with family; my mother would have wanted that.”

“I’m sure she would, King Viserys this is impossible, this is a fake come here to take-“

“I am just a mere woman.” Nymeria cut him off, staring at Otto as if her eyes were sharpening a sword. “up here in your lands, women could not be an heir. I know the Princess is, and she is the rightful heir, in my eyes, raised as a Dornish woman and as the King says, but she is a rarity and not what is familiar. Before standing in this court, I would not dare put my head on the pike. I want to be family.” She said, looking over at Viserys. “that is all.”

Viserys looked over at her, almost examining her to see if she is the blood of a dragon. She allowed him to look her over, as she felt her hands were sweaty, she was nervous and she prayed her voice did not rattle while speaking to the hand.

“And who is your mother or father?” Visery asked, looking over at her as she gave a furlong smile.

“Saera Targaryen, my king.” His eyes widen a bit as he looked over at her, and as she rolled her lips between her lips keeping a steady hand.

“Little Saera?” He asked, gobsmacked as she nodded his head, and he let out a belly laugh. “I know Daemon got it from someone, Targaryen’s always wild a dragon and hot blooded too. Come here little one,” he said to her as Nymeria's hands shook even more, and her legs barely kept her up, she walked to the king feeling Alicent eyes on her.

“You look so much like your mother.” He said now pulling her into a hug, and she smiled over at him. “You are more than welcomed in my home.”

Otto was extremely irate but hid it too late for Darvos, he snarled his lip before walking into the king's home and protecting his sister. If he didn’t, who would?

Visery was very friendly to the newcomers, especially Dorne newcomers, while Otto was dismissive, which caused Darvos to make a remark back. Nymeria would share looks with Visery as they were in this sinking ship together.

“They say Dornish people are free with themselves,” Otto said, now looking over at Nymeria as she furrowed her eyebrows.

“If you mean in a sexual way, then yes, they are,” she remarked back with a shoulder shrug. “It’s very different here than it is in Dorne. Women are treated as equals rather than a shadow to their husbands.”

Otto peered an eyebrow over at her as she smiled over at him.

“It’s truly intriguing to see the different customs.”

“You are a Targaryen as you say then you have plenty.” He almost sneered but Darvos looked over at the king with a small winning smile. “Indeed.” The golden skin woman did back to him.

“Where is the Princess?” She asked, ignoring Otto.

“No doubt flying her dragon,” Visery said with a smile as her eyes widen. “You’ve never seen a dragon before?”

“No.” She shook her head with a smile, and eyes wide in wonderment. “I like to see one.”

“Yes, they truly are a marvel to look at,” Visery said. “When Rhenayera comes, you can go to the dragon pit.”

“Truly?”

Nymeria excitedly asked as her brother smile over to her even though she could see him being worried.

“Oh, that would be wonderful.”

“Wouldn’t it be Darvos?” Otto smirked into his cup as Nymeria stared at the hand with distempered; she couldn’t believe this man was so cruel, even loud about it in front of the king. Dornes and Dragons usually don’t get along. Nymeria knew that as she could see her brother's unease, but she always wondered about dragons. Her mother always talked about dragons, so it was hard not to follow suit. She wanted to be a dragon rider and bond with her mother, but she never felt the bond as she had no dragon. Even as an outcast in Dorne and now an outcast with the Targaryens, she watched her brother play the game with Otto, alicent doting on the king, and the king talking about history. Nymeria sat there in her thoughts as she listened to him with a soft smile.

That's when she heard the dragon cry out; Nymeria's ear perked up as she turned her head to look out the window, in passing seeing a Sliver of blonde hair flying behind them perched onto a yellow dragon. Nymeria's eyes widen in wonder, and a smile big on her face, causes Visery to watch the girl with a smile of his own. He knew a Targaryen when he saw one, and she was it.

She was waiting for the girl to make herself known, and Nymeria could feel her hands getting sweaty. The dornish girl was excited yet nervous about meeting the Princess, who was her age. She knew it might come across as if she was trying to become the new realm delight, but Nymeria knew she couldn’t become anything close to it. She was half Dornish and half Targaryen. She did not belong to this world or the other and never wished for it. But she wanted to have a friend; she was so lonesome in her world. She was kept away from others; because of the stares and looks. No one figured Nymeria would have anything close to a Targaryen look, and when she was born, her hair was as bright as the summer’s rays. She stood out just like her mother, and she knew she would be outcasted entirely because of her mixed bloodline. Dorne does not like the Targaryen as a whole- they’ve been at war and do not care to see one another, and she is a stark reminder of the war. Maybe…now she will find some companionship, and perhaps she will finally be welcomed. She knew Otto did not accept her, and Alicent, by extension, didn’t either. Darvos didn’t even dare to hide his distaste for the Hightower. It was becoming unsettling and unnerving to be there as Visery acted blind to the whole thing.

“Ah, Princess Rhaenyra-“ Alicent said, getting up, distracting everyone in the room; Nymeria turned in her chair to see the Princess walking windswept and beautiful. She gave the group a relatively small revered smile; she was guarded, cautious, and moving in slow strides. She was striking and dangerous; Nymeria's heart fluttered as she watched the princess with wide eyes. Darvos was up first, and Nymeria followed suit as Otto got up. Darvos glanced over to Nymeria, watching her enthrall with the princess, and he smirked, looking back over to the realm's delight. He quickly got up, meeting the princess, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips.

“Princess, your reputation truly does you justice; you are as beautiful as the golden day sun.” He smiled over at her as she now smiled back, but her eyes were determining if he was a lying man or if he was spilling out truths. These things usually are men being disgusting, but Darvos was being honest with a bit of arse kissing.

“A lovely thing to say from a man I barely know.”

“And I am utterly stunned by your beauty.” He said with a smile. “I am Lord Darvos Dayne, we come from Dorne.”

“Dorne? Came to kings landing?” She asked with an amused smile, now looking over Nymeria with piqued interest. “And you are?”

“I am Nymeria from the house of Dayne, I am your cousin,” Nymeria said as she stood up to let the princess look over her.

“So it seems.” She said, now looking over the girl from Dorne. “Do you claim the Targarygen name?”She was asking from the house, she was a protector, and she wanted to see what the Dornish girl would say or act. The golden skin girl looked at the princess with a smile as she knew the game they were playing.

“I am; I am Nymeria Targaryen my mother is Saera Targaryen. I am not a dragon rider, but I can and will speak Vaylerian.”

“Well, not all Targaryens ride a dragon.” She smiled over to Nymeria as the girl smiled back. “And we can always find you one.” She teased as Darvos let out a nervous laugh.

“I would like that.” Nymeria looked at the Princess with wonderment but slight attraction.

Rhaenyra was beautiful, a true Targaryen with long blonde hair, taller than most women, and stunning eyes, and she looked at you as if she was trying to figure you out. The look, the eyes, piqued Nymeria as she stared back with her own look. Nymeria was always known in Dorne as having flirty eyes; one look at you and most people would get flushed. When she was around people, most men did want her and tried for her hand, and for them to be between her legs, but she always dismissed them, pulled them long enough for them to desperately want her and she would always find a way to distract herself out of it. Nymeria hasn’t lost her maiden as much as Otto wants to make it seem. She was very to herself, teaching her history and being groomed by her family to be a Targaryen even her father would bound her time learning many things about Dorne. She was well-versed in politics, and she knew a lot of history on both sides. She also knew the North very well; her father always cried about her not being a man because in the Westro she would go farther as a man than when she was born. So now, with her as the heir of the kingdom, she wondered why her father stressed about men and how they would treat her.

“You’re from Dorne; what’s it like?” Rhaenyra asked, now sitting next to her, ignoring Otto, Alicent, and even Nymeria’s brother; she lifted her cup to her lips but kept her eyes on the golden skin Targaryen.

“Different than here, warmer, more welcoming, and the food is different more spices.”

“Really? She asked with a smile. “I wonder what it is like to eat there? And how much warmer?”

“Very. I’m quite cold here.” She said over to the Princess as her skin was covered in goosebumps, the Rhaenyra looked down at her arms, pursing her lips over at the girl. And a bright idea came to her.

“Want to go to my room? I have some firewood, and we can keep warm. Possibly drink spice wine, and you can tell me everything about Dorne.”

Nymeria didn’t know what Rhaenyra saw in her, maybe a friend, a companion, possibly even a better family female figure in her life, but she was happy about it. She dreamt of the day of she and Nyra were close; she wouldn’t figure they would be friends so quickly but she could see the loneliness in the young Princess's eyes, and Nymeria knew her eyes reflected the same.

“I would love that,” Nymeria said as Rhaenyra got up quickly, grabbing the girl's hands and intertwining their fingers together, causing Nymeria to smile and feel her chest burn up. She looked over the group, and Alicent had looked hurt, and dismayed over their hands as her eyes were locked on it. Visery smiled brightly over to them, as did Darvos almost a little smirk to his lips, before covering it up in a cup. Otto looked like he was murderous but he hid it rather quickly as if it was a fleeting emotion once he noticed both girls looking at him.

“Good night father.” Rhaenyra said with a small smile spinning on her heel pulling the girl with her.

“Oh, good night!” Nymeria said quickly as she was pulled out of the room with all the eyes on them.

She wasn’t sure if she was happy or nervous over the poor manners but she was with the Princess…nothing could go wrong….or she believed.

Part 3

#house of dragons fic #ser harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #harwin X original female character #rhaenyra x oc #parings glory #alicent is jealous #dorne

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (2/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2503

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: On Arianwyn’s thirteenth nameday, a grand reception is held in her honor. Though most guests are not in attendance for the Lady of Runestone, but rather the Princess Rhaenyra, who is mere weeks away from giving birth. But Arianwyn does not care, for Aemond is there. And he has a present for her.

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

The Bench

The nameday celebrations for Lady Arianwyn Targaryen were far humbler than those for her cousins who held the titles of Prince and Princess. But she was still the daughter of a Prince – and a favorite of the Queen. So, on her thirteenth nameday, a grand reception was held in her honor.

While formal announcements for past celebrations were sent to all the noble houses of Westeros, only House Royce and their bannermen from the coast of the Vale had dutifully journeyed to the capital to observe the occasion each year. The rest of the court came and went as their own agendas dictated. Indeed, while many were in attendance this year, Lady Arianwyn was not the reason why.

The Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, was pregnant once again. Though still several months from the birth, the nobility of Westeros was eager to ensure their presence at the birth of the new Prince or Princess.

Rhaenyra’s first two children – the Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys – had caused quite a stir upon their birth. Neither babe emerged with the white hair or violet eyes of a Valyrian child, but rather hair as black as raven’s feathers and eyes a deep, rich brown. Had it been just Jacaerys, perhaps the court could have overlooked his common appearance. After all, his paternal grandmother, Rhaenys Velaryon, was half Baratheon. But even the Queen Who Never Was was blessed with the purple eyes of her father’s house.

When Rhaenyra’s second son was born looking as ordinary as his brother, the court began looking beyond her husband’s family. Most eyes fell upon her sworn protector and Lord Commander of the City Watch, Harwin Strong. The son of the Hand sported the same coloration as the young Princes, and quite often visited their rooms in Maegor’s Holdfast when he visited the Red Keep for Small Council meetings – despite the two towers being on opposite ends of the castle.

The suspicions never left whispered conversations in empty corridors. At least, not anymore. Not since Ser Evin Tascer had ended an evening of heavy drinking on a cart to the Wall – and without a tongue. But the rumors persisted, though out of the King’s earshot.

Many suspected the Princess was purposeful in avoiding another pregnancy. After all, the Princes were born less than a year apart, and Lucerys was already nearly ten years old. With no miscarriages or other devastating accidents reported and the Princess still young, there seemed to be no other explanation.

But now she was again with child, and every noble in Westeros waited with bated breath to look upon the babe – and its hair. As the birth neared, more and more nobility descended on the capital to ensure they were among the first to know. It just so happened that Lady Arianwyn’s nameday coincided with the deluge of Westerosi nobility.

The young Lady of Runestone did not care why they were there. She was a girl still; all she did care about was that there were more people at her party than ever before. The gardens of the Red Keep were bursting with nobles in colorful and elaborate clothing, adorned with glimmering jewels. In her mind, it was all for her.

At least two of the guests were there only for her.

Her cousin, Ser Gerold Royce, arrived at King’s Landing as he always did: with a carriage overflowing with gifts for Arianwyn. As usual, a great number of these were ancient artifacts of House Royce. After thirteen years, her quarters in the Maidenvault nearly rivaled the vault at Runestone.

Of course, he also brought her new novelties– books filled with fantastical illustrations depicting the history of Westeros; carved wooden toys painted in the colors of their house that, at this point, she was decidedly too old for; dresses of the most vibrant silks and brocades; and jewels of all kinds set in gold, silver, and naturally, bronze.

But the present she was most thrilled by was not from Ser Gerold. It was not a relic of her family nor a decadent new creation. It was old, yes, but humble in appearance.

 -

 Aemond had slipped into her rooms earlier that morning, his gift wrapped in simple brown parchment and clutched tightly in his arms. As the second son of a King, he had become accustomed to being looked over, and learned to turn it to his advantage. So it was easy for him to slip past Arianwyn’s maids and make his way to her dressing room.

She sat at her vanity, holding various jewels up to her neck, assessing which would look best with her black and bronze gown. Aemond slipped from behind a wooden screen as she picked up a delicate silver chain dripping with diamonds. Her grey eyes spotted the movement in her mirror, and she met his gaze through the glass.

“Happy nameday, Aria,” he whispered, a gleeful smile on his face.

Her smile quickly matched his, and she whipped around on her seat, the diamond necklace clattering forgotten on the vanity. “Is that for me?” she asked, pointing at the package he held.

Aemond nodded, running up to meet her. He could hardly contain his excitement as she tore open the paper to reveal what was inside.

It was an old book, a thoroughly unimpressive tattered tome. The binding was linen – not leather – and had not weathered the years well. In places along the spine, the fiber had degraded so much that the reed and twine holding the pages together was visible. The pages themselves were yellow with age, stiff, and uneven. It was unclear whether they had been torn through centuries of use by countless users or cut that way originally by an inexperienced craftsman.

But Arianwyn didn’t care what it looked like. All she noticed was the title: Deciphering the Runes of the First Men.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, eyes wide and mouth agape – exactly the reaction Aemond had been hoping for.

The two had first developed their shared love of history many years prior, when they were both six years old and studying under Archmaester Orwyle.

Queen Alicent had insisted that Arianwyn study with her son rather than on her own with a Septa. She would be the ruling Lady of Runestone one day, Alicent reasoned. Therefore, she would need the same education as any Prince. For this reason, Orwyle had included a detailed account of the First Men in his lessons, along with everything he knew of Old Valyria.

Both histories had fascinated Aemond and Arianwyn. The children were overwhelmed by the history that preceded them and desperate to know everything they could about their families’ pasts. And so, at a remarkably young age, the Prince and his Lady cousin would steal away from dinner each night and run to the library to seek out more knowledge.

They developed a system. Their vocabularies were quite small when they first began – no surprise, as they had only learned to read less than a year prior. Their knowledge of history was even more limited. So, when they found a book that interested them, Arianwyn would read it aloud. Aemond, by her side, kept an account of any words or historical references they did not know. The next morning, the list would be presented to Orwyle, who then had to postpone his planned lessons to sate the pair’s curiosity.

But over the years, there were questions that even the Archmaester could not answer. Many of these pertained to the Runes of the First Men. The Runes that appeared on many of Arianwyn’s belongings and gave her keep its name. Orwyle had corresponded with his colleagues in Oldtown over the years to try and answer Arianwyn’s questions. However, information on the Runes was scarce, even in the lands of Westeros that still clung to that history. After years of disappointment, she had resigned herself to ignorance and redoubled her scholarly focus on Old Valyria.

But now, on the morning of her nameday, she at last held in her hands a book that may contain the very answers she sought. Setting the book carefully on her vanity, she leaped from her vanity stool and straight into Aemond’s arms.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she squealed, holding her cousin as tight as she possibly could. “I hardly even need the party anymore. You’ve already made this the best nameday ever.”

Aemond hugged her back, face flushing at her gush of praise. “I don’t think my mother would approve. She’s spent weeks planning the party.”

Arianwyn withdrew from the hug, sighing dramatically to release the rest of her excitement. “Fine. If we still have to have the party, help me choose a necklace so we can go and get it over with.”

She sat back at the vanity, smiling mischievously at Aemond in the mirror. Still laughing, he sidled next to her and began to rifle through her jewelry box.

 -

 Hours later, in the gardens, Arianwyn impatiently fiddled with her necklace – Aemond had chosen one of braided bronze and silver chain, with a smattering of various jewels woven in. The day was growing hot, and Alicent and Gerold relentlessly continued to lead her throughout the party and present her to so many nobles her head was starting to spin.

She was finally granted a reprieve when a servant pulled Alicent aside to discuss the alarming rate at which the pastries were disappearing from the table. As soon as her Aunt’s attention was off her, Arianwyn thanked Ser Gerold for coming and ran to the other end of the garden as fast as she could.

Helaena and Aemond sat on a bench together against the garden wall. Entirely disinterested in the party, they watched several honeybees land clumsily on the plate set between them, lapping up droplets of sugary punch Helaena poured for them.

“There are seven now,” Helaena said when she sensed her cousin’s presence, though her eyes remained steadfastly focused on the plate. “But a few moments ago, there were ten.”

Arianwyn smiled, “Do they like the punch?” This conversation was already far more interesting than any she had with the other party guests.

“They do,” Helaena said, tipping her goblet to spill more on the plate. “But when they fly away, they seem clumsier than usual.”

Aemond laughed, looking up from his sister’s experiment to his cousin. “Of course they are. They’re drunk, Helaena. There’s wine in the punch.”

Though Helaena seemed horrified at the prospect, Arianwyn couldn’t help laughing at the image that appeared in her mind. “If you give them enough, they may start acting like Aegon.”

At this, Helaena at last joined in the laughter. But it did not last long.

As if summoned by the sound of his name, Aegon emerged from the crowd, Jacaerys and Lucerys trailing behind him.

“Were you saying something about me, dear cousin?” He drawled. Like the bees, he was already well into his drink. “You know it’s not nice to gossip.” He pursed his lips before chuckling, the two younger boys joining in with him.

Aegon was closer to his nephews than his siblings and cousin were. Though he had often delighted in tormenting them when they were young, the relationship took a turn once the boys had begun training in the Dragonpit.

The girls trained separately, the Dragonkeepers deciding that both Arianwyn’s hatchling, Emrys, and the reserved Helaena would learn better away from a crowd. So when the boys first went to the Dragonpit, it was no surprise when Aemond began to be excluded. He was the only one without a hatchling. So while the others learned alongside their dragons, Aemond could only observe.

After some time, the exclusion extended beyond the walls of the Dragonpit. Aegon’s taunts began to target his brother rather than his nephews, and Jace and Luke, thrilled to no longer be the target of his jokes, happily joined in on the fun.

The prolonged abuse had caused Aemond to retreat, which greatly distressed Arianwyn. There were nights in the library when he would not say a word when previously he despised silence. Trying to get him to tell her what had happened was useless – the more she prodded, the less he said. So, on his “quiet days,” as she took to calling them, she simply took the lead, speaking enough for both of them.

Now, as Aegon stood before them, Aemond began to quiet. He turned his head down, staring at his now unnaturally still hands.

Arianwyn would not allow this on her nameday.

“We’re simply having fun at my party, cousin.” She said, stepping slightly in front of Aemond. “Are you?”

Aegon scoffed, “As much as I can, I suppose. Though I can’t say the conversation has been particularly stimulating. Half the people here only want to talk about Rhaenyra,” he spat the name of his sister as if it were a curse, “and the other half about you.”

“It’s her nameday,” Aemond said in a rare, confident outburst, “why should they not be talking about her?” His lip quivered as he stared his brother down.

But that was just the bait Aegon needed. Taking another deep swig from his cup, he took another step toward the bench. “Do you know what they’re saying, Arianwyn?” She shrank back as he turned his withering violet gaze on her. Aegon had few talents, but his careful cruelty was undoubtedly one of them.

“I’ll give you a hint. They aren’t talking about that garish bronze armor your cousin brought you. Though I’m not sure why –  it’s truly horrendous.” He looked back at Jace and Luke, signaling them to laugh. They did.

When Arianwyn continued her silence, Aegon leaned down, his face close enough for her to smell the alcohol on his breath. “Thirteen is an important number, cousin. You’re not just a little girl anymore. You’re becoming a woman.” He reached to touch her cheek, but she slapped his hand away.

“Do you wonder why my mother has been parading you around like a prize mare? Today is the day you officially go to market, Arianwyn. As soon as your father finally acknowledges that you’re alive and agrees to a deal, you’ll be shipped off to the highest bidder. At least then we can rid the Keep of all that dull bronze.”

Arianwyn shrieked in anger, gathering all her strength to push Aegon away from her. He just laughed as he stumbled back. He had struck his target.

“Come, Aemond,” she commanded, seizing his hand. “I’m tired of the party. Let’s go to the library.” He did not argue, following her dutifully, thankful himself to be leaving the garden.

With his fun over, Aegon left the bench and returned to the throng of people, his two raven-haired lackeys close behind. Only Helaena remained, and three of her honeybees. She dipped a finger into the punch, letting one of the insects land on her fingernail to drink.

“The silver mare shall never be sold,” she whispered.

Next Chapter

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanfic #house of the dragon

[bananadrinkxxx]

THE BLOOD CROWN (22)

[Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character ! I fem!reader]

[Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers / Revenge]

Content for adults. 18+

[warnings: smut, sex content, dark romance, angst, fights, domination, murder]

[description: Aemond Targaryen meets his niece under a different name and falls in love with her without knowing that she is supposed to be his enemy.]

Masterlist - click here for all available parts

116 AC.

T H I R T E E N - Y E A R S - A G O

KING'S LANDING

RED KEEP

Rhaenyra had only learned what true fear was when she held Jacaerys in her arms for the first time. The little creature had felt so fragile that she was afraid to make a wrong move. A quick movement that would rip this gift from her arms again. So pure, so innocent, so vulnerable. Rhaenyra had known that day that she would do anything for him. She had felt the same with each of the children that followed.

With Aemma, this feeling had been especially strong. Not because she meant more to her than the others, no, but because she knew how cruel the world was to women. Her brown eyes, with their extraordinary blue gleam, had looked at her expectantly, as if she expected more than could be offered. Rhaenyra had vowed that her daughter would never have to go through what she had, but it was difficult to rebel against the world of men when you were trapped in it.

"Aemma tells of strange figures in the fire," Rhaenyra began, seeing her father turn to her in surprise.

"Strange figures in the fire?" he furrowed his brow. He looked tired and sick.

Rhaenyra nodded and played nervously with her fingers. "At first I thought it was the playful mind of a child, but it happens to many times."

Viserys placed the stone dragon back on the table and looked at her intently.

"Very interesting. It sounds like Aemma is a dreamer."

Rhaenyra took a breath. "But she doesn't dream these things. She sees things in the fire."

Viserys rubbed his chin and leaned back in his chair. His movements were slow, as if each one pained him. Deep circles were under his eyes. His condition depressed Rhaenyra, put her in fear about the time that would come when she would be all alone in this world.

Laenor was by her side, but he was no help to her. Sometimes Rhaenyra thought he was her fourth child, a boy who never wanted to grow up. She stroked her round belly. Or her fifth.

Then there was Harwin Strong, the father of her children, who was never allowed to be what he really was. He would support her, he would die for her, but he would condemn them all to death if she ever openly showed what he meant to her.

"I really only know about our ancestors and their dragon dreams," Viserys admitted. "But in the diaries of Aenar Targaryen, the few we still have, in which he writes about his daughter Daenys and her abilities, he also talks about his younger sister seeing her own death in fire. It is said to have occurred in the same way. Maybe it was just a coincidence but probably that's why he didn't doubt his daughter's words."

Aenar Targaryen was the father of Daenys, the dreamer. She had foretold of the fall and destruction of Valyria, a prophecy that had come to pass twelve years later. Aenar had been wise enough to believe his daughter, and had fled with his family to Dragonstone. Aenar's rivals had seen their flight as weakness and cowardice, but while their families perished, Daenys had saved House Targaryen and Velaryon with her prophecy.

"Did Aemma say what she saw, then?" asked Viserys curiously, leaning forward slightly.

"Green dragon, bloody crown, black wolf, fire comes after blood," Aemma had kept repeating while staring into the fire. "Green dragon, bloody crown, black wolf, fire comes after blood."

She had no idea what her child had meant by this, but it had an unsettling effect on her. She had come here with the thought of asking her father for advice, but then she looked to his green coat and it reminded her that she was surrounded by enemies in her own home. He would tell Alicent about it without anything evil in mind, but Alicent was no longer the girl that Rhaenyra had trusted with her darkest secrets.

She shook her head. "She only talked about figures she sees."

Her father looked disappointed and nodded.

"Whatever Aemma's abilities are, you have to protect her, Rhaenyra," Viserys began, looking to the fire burning in the hearth beside them. "Protect her from any danger, protect her from herself."

Rhaenyra looked at her father in irritation. Protect Aemma? Her stomach clenched.

"Dragon dreams can be dangerous. More dangerous than our dragons," Viserys explained to her calmly, but his words worried her. "Many in our line have been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. What is the power of a dragon next to the power of prophecy?"

129 AC.

DRAGONSTONE

Despite the closed door, Rhaenyra heard Daemon going from one tantrum to the next, raving about what had happened last night. But Rhaenyra had other worries. She watched as the maesters tended to Rose, checking her for further injuries.

She watched her sleeping daughter. Exhaustion had made her close her eyelids again, although Rhaenyra would have liked to ask her a thousand questions. She had so many questions, but the most important thing was that her little girl was back. There was no doubt.

It still seemed like a dream to have her daughter lying in front of her.

Rhaenyra gently stroked her sleeping daughter's face and followed the maester out of her room as he finished the examinations.

"You look worried," Rhaenyra stated with a fast beating heart and Grand Maester Gerardys looked at the door. She felt nervous.

Gerardys nodded and pulled her aside, away from the guards and maids.

"Her injuries are minor in nature, my Queen. Worst of all is her exhaustion."

"But?" She heard in his voice that there was more. Gerardys looked at her seriously, his brow furrowing.

"The girl is expecting a child," he revealed, and Rhaenyra's eyes widened.

"She's pregnant?" she asked, "Are you sure?"

Gerardys nodded. "She hasn't been pregnant for very long, and I doubt she knows, but there's no doubt that new life is growing inside the girl."

Rhaenyra had to admit that she had expected everything, but not this. Daemon and Lucerys had told her about her relationship with Aemond. Daemon because he had seen it and Lucerys because he had suspected it, but she had hoped they were both wrong. 

What a bizarre idea that Aemma was pregnant by her uncle. The gods showed no mercy if it were true.

She'd have to find out whose child it was. 

Rhaenyra nodded gravely. "I wish that her pregnancy will not be discussed for the time being and that you keep silent about it."

Grand Master Gerardys nodded. "Of course, my Queen." If he was surprised, he didn't show any sign of it.

Should it turn out to be true that Aemond was the father, then Aemma would be in danger. She didn't know what relevance her daughter had for Aemond, but she knew her brother well enough to know that he would come for what was his.

. . . . . 

"You betrayed Mother," said Jacaerys, and Lucerys looked up. Six sat with Rhaena and Baela on the beach, staring at the sea as they had done when they were little children.

All of them hadn't found sleep since last night. Jacaerys looked at Marax, who had already been fed for the fifth time in the day. The wounded dragon ripped apart his prey, his anger was clearly felt.

Lucerys looked at him hurt, but Jacaerys had no pity. What he had done was wrong.

"Jacaerys," Baela hissed, but he ignored his fiancée.

"You freed her, even though Mother gave a different order."

"Her execution has been proposed. I had to help her."

"It wasn't your decision to make."

Lucery's hands were shaking. "She's our sister."

"Bullshit."

"The Queen called her 'Aemma,'" Rhaena said defensively, looking at Jacaerys. "I heard it, loud and clear."

Jacaerys shook his head. "That's not possible. They have no resemblance."

"Are you blind, brother? She looks like Aemma."

"She has dark hair and brown eyes. Surprise. Let me go to the village and I'll bring you five girls who look like Aemma."

"You think you're smart," Lucerys spat. "But you talk like a fool."

"She's dead! Aemma is dead," Jacaerys shouted and clenched his fists. He jumped up. He felt him tremble with anger. Why didn't anyone listen to him?  "She's no longer alive, that's just wishful thinking. That girl up there can't be our sister. The Greens are fake and sneaky. They know of our loss and try to destroy us from within. Why can't anyone see what I see?"

"Rose is Aemma, brother," Lucerys said desperately. "They have so many similarities. Please, you have to listen to me. Even mother thinks she is. Get to know her."

Jacaerys shook his head.

"No, she's a fraud."

"She never claimed to be Aemma," Lucerys defended the strange woman. "Why can't you believe what we believe? Our sister has returned."

It would be too good to be true. For a moment Jacaerys wanted to give in, but he had to keep his senses. He couldn't be fooled.

He looked at Baela, seeking help, but she only shook her head. Rhaena had lowered her gaze, and Lucerys looked at him defiantly. In the past, Lucerys would never have spoken to him like that, but since his imprisonment, he's been someone else. He didn't recognize his brother, and it was all his own fault. If he hadn't suggested Luke fly to Baratheon, he would have been spared all this.

Jacaery's heart ached at the thought that he had almost killed his brother. He wouldn't let a stranger ruin this family just because she happened to look like his beloved sister.

"She's Aemond's mistress, isn't she, Luke?"He saw Lucery's surprise. He looked to the side and Jacaerys breathed. "We can't trust her. You can't trust her. I won't let that happen."

Whoever she was, she wasn't Aemma.

Aemma was dead.

No matter how much his brother and his mother wished for their return, Jacaerys would not be able to deceive them.

He would protect his family. At all costs.

Without another word or giving the others a chance to reply, he turned around and stomped back into the castle.

He'd prove to everyone he was right.

RED KEEP

Aemond listened to his brother's cries.

He stood in the hallway, waiting for his mother, who was visiting her brother at that moment. When she came out of his room, she seemed distracted. She looked at him with sad eyes, desperate, but there was also anger in them.

"This is Rhaenyra's fault," she said, full of hatred and Aemond followed her. "He is hardly conscious anymore, and when he is, he only expresses pain. He's in so much pain, Aemond, it breaks my heart."

Her voice trembled. Aemond didn't know whether it was grief, pain or anger.

Aemond felt sorry for his brother. He had been so preoccupied with his own problems, with Rose's loss, that drove him insane.

"Everything that Rhaenyra touches falls apart," Alicent continued. She had never spoken more openly about her feelings for Rhaenyra than she does today. It reminded him of the night on Driftmark when Lucerys took his eye off him.

"We must take revenge, my boy."

Aemond looked at his mother in surprise. His mother had longed for peace, she had done everything to make sure nothing happened to his sister, the princess, even after the failed assassination of her grand children, she had kept calm, but now he saw her anger, her willingness to shed blood.

"This realm needs guidance and right now your brother is unable to fulfill that duty."

Aemond stopped and held back his mother. Did his mother mean what he was thinking?

"What do you want from me, Mother?"

Say it. Say it.

"Rule this kingdom while your brother is unable to do so. Become Prince Regent, Protector of the Realm. Protect your family."

Aemond didn't know what to feel. That's what he'd always wanted. He had always wished to sit on the iron throne and possess what he was supposed to have in place of Aegon, if the gods had been righteous.

He would not be a king, but he would possess the power of a king.

Satisfaction flowed through him. He'd finally be able to prove himself. He would eliminate his enemies, every single one of them.

"If I do what you ask, I won't be able to let Rhaenyra live. No one. Not her, or any of her children."

Alicent nodded, he saw sadness in her eyes, but her attitude showed determination.

She looked back to Aegon's room. 

"Do what you have to do. Kill our enemies. Anyone who's a threat to us. I want Rhaenyra to know what it's like to see your child suffer like this."

Taglist

@watercolorskyy @marvelescvpe @ammo23 @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #modern aemond angst #aemond targeryen angst #aemond angst #hotd angst #ewan mitchell smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond x wife #aemond x wife reader #aemond fanfic #hotd fandom #house of the dragon fandom #ewan mitchell fandom #aemond fandom #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #aemond fic #rhaenyra targaryen #game of thrones

[maxii031]

Here‘s to courage

Aemond Targaryen x reader/original female character

About 6k words long

Modern! AU

TW: sexual harassment (not by Aemond though), talks of infertility

With a loud sigh she let herself fall into her chair, the light of the computer felt like it was burning into her eyes. The pounding headache was still not gone, even after taking painkillers it did not get any better. Maybe she should not have drunk that much last night, knowing that she would have to drag herself to work the next day.

„Good Morning.“ the voice of Otto Hightower brought her back to reality. He was standing in front of her, his long coat draped over one arm and the suit he was wearing looked like the newest edition to his wardrobe, a deep navy blue with a white dress shirt.

„Good Morning, Sir.“ she smiled at him, his eyes wrinkling slightly at the sides. He looked a lot more happy than he usually did. Most of the time his expression seemed to be sulking or unhappy with something, but on this particular morning he looked like a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

„How was your weekend?“ he asked, hanging up the coat on the rack. The young woman was slightly startled by the question, Mr Hightower had never been a rude employer, but he had also never been particularly interested in his employees personal life.

„Good. My brothers and I drove up north to visit family, it was nice. Both my brothers thrived on being up there again. How about yours?“ she laughed softly and shook her head at the thought of how happy her older brother had been to see their older sisters again and how good the air up north had been for her other brother‘s lungs after he had developed severe pneumonia. She could, however, not tell him about the more bitter and sad part of the weekend, which led to her thundering headache.

„That is good to hear. My weekend has consisted of the usual business.“ he waved his hand in the air and sighed softly. She knew what that meant, it meant that his grandchildren had driven him up the wall and his daughter had probably ranted about her husband and maybe his oldest grandson had even brought around his new girlfriend or even one of his many kids.

„Could you call a few people for me before the normal issues of the day come flooding in?“ he asked her as he picked up the briefcase again, which he had sat down before hanging up the coat.

„Of course.“ she held back her comment that this was exactly her job, calling people for him, taking calls for him and scheduling every event while keeping track of all the requests that came into the Mailbox during the day.

„Here is the list and what I want from them or what you have to tell them. Some calls are internal, others are external.“ he handed her a large piece of paper, which he had drawn out of his breast pocket and unfolded with one hand.

She just nodded and smiled at him, with that he disappeared into the room which was behind her office. It was not really an office, she was only a secretary after all and that meant no big office for her.

As she looked down at the list she let out a drawn out groan, it was long and a few of the names on it were not her favorite ones to call. His handwriting was neat and tidy, yet it was elegant, which made it easy to read.

Lyman Beesbury

Ask about the debt to the Lannister Banks and how much of the budget for the new project has to be loaned to the Company

Jason Lannister

Tell him that we will not be able to pay the debt back with the current interest rate, negotiate (if he is not willing to cooperate put him through to me)

Harwin Strong

Put through the list of attendees for the Gala and the current security guidelines that have to be taken into consideration for such an event

Hobert Hightower

Also put through the list of attendees for the Gala and tell him that I want him to prepare a separate account for the donations for the Gala

The list went on and on with tasks like these, most of them either relating to some form of finance or the Gala coming up in a month. With a heavy sigh she placed her head on the table, closing her eyes before looking at the last point on the paper.

Aemond Targaryen

Tell him that he will be attending the six o‘clock meeting with me tomorrow.

She rolled her eyes at that, but also felt some kind of relief. Aemond was always polite when she called and never snapped at her so at least there was something to look forward to while she was making some of the more dreadful calls on the list. With a glance at the clock she picked up the phone on her desk and started to dial the number of Lyman Beesbury. She had exactly one and a half hours before the usual rush of the day started to flood in and then she would be buried in work.

With a groan she hung up that second to last call and dropped her hands on the keyboard in front of her. She had a deep resentment for that Baratheon man, he always made disgusting comments about her and her professional relationship with Otto Hightower. She looked at the clock again, it was now almost an hour into the normal work day and she was already stacking up work for the rest of the day, making copies of certain documents, putting things away, sending Emails to different people with requests or telling them that they did not do their job correctly. One more time she picked up the phone and dialed the number of Aemond Targaryen. After one ring he picked up.

„Hello, Aemond Targaryen speaking.“ his smooth voice came through the speaker.

„Hello, Mr. Targaryen! Here is-„ she was interrupted by him.

„Ah, dear. How can I help you?“ his voice was calm and she could hear the tapping of a keyboard in the background. It always flustered her that he called her dear, but she never said anything because it did not make her uncomfortable.

„I am just calling because Mr. Hightower wants to let you know that you will be joining him for his six o‘clock meeting tomorrow.“ she waited for him to say something.

„Alright. Tell him that I will be there. I just have a quick question: who else is attending the meeting?“ he asked, the tapping in the background had stopped a few moments ago and scribbling had come into the audio now.

„Uhm…I can answer you in just one moment.“ she hacked the date and time into the calendar, which she kept for Mr. Hightower’s meetings.

„The meeting is with Ms. Rhaenyra Targaryen,“ she paused and continued to read the other names, a bad feeling settling in her stomach. „Mr. Corlys Velaryon, Mr. Vaemond Velaryon and Mr. Daemon Targaryen. As well as Mrs. Targaryen and of course Mr. Hightower." She licked her lips and waited for him to say anything. There was only the sound of his breathing now.

„Thank you. One more question; is my grandfather currently available?“ he sounded angry about something and she really did not want to know what he was angry about. She knew a lot about the problems within the Targaryen family, but by far not everything.

„Uhm, yes he is. He is in his office right now.“ she said calmly.

„Thank you, goodbye.“ Before she was able to say anything he hung up. Quickly she sat down the phone and now stared at the documents laying in front of her. With a sigh she took the stapler from the side of the desk and started to look through the dokuments, wanting to know which of them belonged together and which of them needed to be put away separately.

While she was stapling and putting away all the documents she remembered why she had such a blaring headache. It had not been a pleasant night, normally she did not drink that much, but due to her unnerving aunt she had drunk one glass of whiskey after the other and had realized too late that drinking almost three quarters of a Whiskey bottle was not a good idea. The woman had been asking about when she would get married and why she was not engaged and when they would be able to welcome more children into the family. Her aunt was particularly cruel when it came to things like these. The woman never kept it to the annoying enough questions, but always started to insult the other person the drunker she got. The best insult of the evening that had been thrown at her head had been:“defect breeding cow“, which would have not affected her as much if it was not for the fact that her Gynecologist had recently told her that the chance of her ever having children was slim, not zero but close to. She shook her head to get rid of the images and the feelings associated with that night, pushing the stapler aggressively into the paper and then putting it in the hole puncher to even more aggressively punch the holes into the papers.

Suddenly the door flew open and Aemond strode into the room. His face filled with annoyance as he closed the door behind him. Closed was the right word, he had not slammed it, he never slammed doors unlike his older brother who seemed to be always slamming doors.

„Mr. Targaryen,“ she nodded at him, her eyes turned back to her work. She did not want to bother him, especially not when he was angry about something. He smiled softly at her, greeting her and continuing to Otto Hightowers office.

After Aemond had entered, muffled voices were audible from the room, however only a mere moment later the muffled voices turned into something that sounded much more like shouting.

She tried hard not to listen to anything they were saying since it felt like a huge invasion of privacy. Luckily their voices were only muffled again after a few moments.

The young woman was not sure how long their talking continued, but after some time Aemond left the office again. He walked slowly and also closed the door gently again. Now she was finally able to get a good look at him. Aemond Targaryen was in his mid twenties, lean and had gorgeous platinum blonde hair, which shone softly. Otherwise he was also very good looking and always well dressed, on this particular day he accentuated his frame with a tight fitting, emerald green dress shirt and black slacks.

„Would you like to come to the kitchen with me and get a coffee?“ he asked her as he was about to leave the room.

„I would love to!“ she smiled softly and got up from her chair, her back aching since she had been sitting since the early morning.

He opened the door for her and let her pass, he left the room after her and gently closed the door. Together they quietly walked through the corridor.

„You have probably heard that my dear father will be hosting a Gala next month.“ Aemond broke the silence as they continued their way to the kitchen.

„I have, actually I have been making calls about that all day and sending Email out about certain regulations that have to be met.“ she chuckled softly as they turned a corner.

„Oh, well that is also good to know. At least I now know that someone competent handled the bureaucracy of the whole event.“ he said.

„Thank you, but to be honest: Mr. Hightower did a lot of the bureaucracy things, I just sent out the Emails for him and made the phone calls.“ she laughed softly.

He just hummed in what seemed like disagreement, but she was not able to place the sound combined with his nonchalant facial expression.

„Have you received an invitation?“ he asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer.

„Oh no! I do not get invited to any events of the sort. After all, I am just a secretary that does not have that much influence. There is no need to invite me.“

Aemond looked over at her, his eyes opened wide and his eyebrows raised.

„Well, then. If you have not received an invitation yet then please see this as your invitation to the Gala, as my plus one.“ he said.

She stared at him in shock for a moment. He had seriously asked her to come to the Gala as his plus one. She took a shaky breath and swallowed the lump in her throat.

„Thank you, Mr. Targaryen.“ she said quietly.

„Aemond.“ he responded plainly.

„Excuse me?“ she asked, not quite understanding what he wanted to say with that.

„Please call me Aemond. I believe that I have told you on a few occasions already that I do not like to be called by my last name.“ he smiled softly as they reached the kitchen.

„Thank you, Aemond.“

„Have you finished up everything for the day?“ Otto Hightower asked as he exited his office. He seemed to be in a hurry to leave, which made sense since tonight was the big night in which hours and hours of planning had been invested. He probably also had to get changed since his usual plain suit would not be doing well at the Gala.

„Yes, Sir. Everything is finished, all the pile up of the last few weeks is also gone and you can go to the Gala with a good conscience.“ she smiled at him as he put down the briefcase.

„Good, good.“ he paused for a moment, „You do know that Aemond told me that he invited you as his plus one, right?“ he asked.

She felt her face heat up slightly as she looked at her hands. All the time after Aemond had invited her she had not told Mr. Hightower since she did not know what he would say, but the fact that Aemond already told him made things much easier.

„No, he did not tell me that he informed you about that.“ she laughed softly, trying to cover up how flustered she was. The older man hummed slightly, but just nodded.

„You should also leave, I believe getting ready will take you some time.“ his expression was kind as he picked up the coat and draped it over his shoulders.

„Until later.“ he said, after she also said goodbye he left, shortly after she also took all of her things and made her way home.

She took a deep breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. The light green dress was smoothed out perfectly and her hair had been done perfectly by one of her friends who worked as a hairstylist, falling loosely over her shoulders and complementing the color of the dress. For her shoes she had opted for cream colored strap heels, which blended nicely with the color of the dress. A pair of small golden hoops dangled from her ears as she took the clutch.

Aemond had told her not to worry about what she would be wearing and wear something she felt comfortable in, which turned out to be harder than she thought at first since most of the dresses she owned and already knew felt comfortable in were not appropriate for a Gala in any way. As she looked away from the mirror she glanced at the clock, it was almost time for him to come pick her up, nervously she smoothed out the dress once again and made her way over to her coat rag. It was not too cold, but still rather cool, especially since she was wearing a dress that unfortunately did not have any sleeves. Before she was able to grab her coat the bell rang and she walked towards the speaker in the wall.

„Hello, Aemond?“ she simply spoke into the microphone. For a moment there was silence.

„Yes, dear.“ as she heard his voice she pressed the unlock button for the door and went to take her coat and her clutch. She opened the door and made her way into the stairwell, closing the door and locking it behind her.

As she was about to call the elevator the doors opened and Aemond stood in front of her. She felt like someone had knocked all of the air out of her lungs. He stood there, looking like a model. His lean body was clad in a beautiful black suit with a black dress shirt, but no tie or fly. The soft platinum blonde hair was brushed back, but still hanging loosely over her back and shoulders.

„Hi.“ she whispered softly as she stepped into the elevator, almost realizing too late that she had been staring at the man.

„Hello, dear.“ he smiled softly at her as he pressed the button for the ground floor and seemed to relax.

„You look beautiful in that dress.“ he looked at her with an expression that she was unable to read. His one eye looked her up and down while the glass eye, which he had chosen to be a sapphire, shone bright in the light of the elevator.

„Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.“ her eyes traveled up and down his figure again, the first two buttons of his shirt were opened, which made it look a lot more relaxed than it would have looked if he had been wearing a tie. At the statement he chuckled softly.

With a soft ding the elevator came to a stop, as the doors opened he stretched out his arm, signaling her that she should take his arm. Her hand landed on the crook of his elbow, making her feel like she gave up some sort of control, a fact that would have terrified her under normal circumstances, but this was different, right now she was happy that someone was guiding her.

They approached a car that was standing in one of the parking spaces in the area. It looked to be an older Porsche model, but she had in all honesty no idea what kind of car it was. Aemond opened the back door for her and she took a seat in the back of the car, putting on the seat belt, greeting the man that was sitting at the wheel. The young man rounded the car and took a seat beside her.

As the car was set in motion by the driver she looked out of the window. His voice brought her back to reality.

„I will give you a fair warning before we arrive. There will be a lot of people taking photos, especially while we exit the car.“ he adjusted his cuffs as he spoke.

„Oh.“ she swallowed harshly, knowing that that would be hard for her, she had of course expected it, but it still felt odd.

„No need to worry.“ he chuckled softly. „I will guide you. Wait for me to get out of the car, then I can help you exit.“ he paused again and studied her face for a moment. „While we are in the main hall, you can just mingle. Before the buffet there will be many speeches, they are not the most interesting, but you will be able to pass the time. Afterwards it is just food, polite conversation and dancing.“

„Thank you. I am good at mingling and listening as well, that is a positive.“ she smiled softly as Aemond raised his eyebrow and looked at her with confusion written across his face.

„Well, mingling and listening is my job after all. I do not only send out emails, but make calls that need a sensible tone and an open ear.“ she smiled softly. „And if I may say so myself; I have gotten quite good at listening to people talking about things that I have no idea about.“

He laughed softly and shook his head. „Then I should keep you close since listening to the ramblings of my father‘s business partners is not my strong suit.“ There were a few moments of silence then he spoke again. „Also I would recommend you leave your coat in the car as well as the bag, there will not be many places to hang it and things can easily get lost at these Galas.“

„Oh, alright.“ She began shrugging off her coat, knowing that the hall which they had booked for the Gala was only a few minutes away from where they currently were. A slight shiver ran through her body as she felt the warm coat leave her body. Only shortly after she pulled it out from beneath her and folded it on the middle seat.

„I have never seen someone take a coat off so elegantly while sitting, even my dear my mother is not able to do that.“ he laughed and shook his head in amazement.

„It comes easier when you spent most of your childhood in a car. You actually learn to do a lot of things while in a moving car.“ she laughed softly.

The short rest of the drive was spent in silence. The car pulled up beside the hall and stopped at the height of a red carpet. Smoothly the driver reached for her coat and clutch and put it on the passenger seat before Aemond opened the door. As he did so she heard and saw the flashes of cameras going off. Waiting a short moment she scooted over and also got out of the car, taking Aemond‘s hand in the process. The only thoughts on her mind were to keep your legs together while getting out of the car and your hand on the neckline of your dress. Luckily, she exited the car smoothly and without issue.

As she stood securely Aemond offered her his arm again, she took it and they began to walk. She smiled softly as they made their way to the entrance of the hall. The flashes of the cameras were truly blinding and she was happy that Aemond seemed to be so confidently strudding towards the entrance.

It became apparent immediately that they entered the building since the flashes stopped. She took a deep breath and looked up at Aemond, looking to find some kind of reassurance, which she also found: he wore a gentle smile and nodded at her. They continued into the main room of the hall and she again felt like someone knocked all the air out of her lungs.

The ceiling was made of glass and shimmered softly, but the most impressive thing of the whole building was the massive chandelier, which was hanging in the middle of the ceiling. It was made of glass and what seemed like crystals, the light cascading down from it made the room feel like a scene from a fairy tale. This feeling only intensified as she looked at the people in the room. All of them were immaculately dressed as well as having some kind of regal air about them.

He moved his arm away from hers, but quickly placed his hand on the small of her back. She tried to follow his gaze, which led her eyes to a group of people with the signature blonde hair of the Targaryens.

„Come, my family is there. I think we should greet them.“ his voice was soft, yet it still carried over the muttering and talk of the crowd with ease. She just nodded and he directed her effortlessly through the crowd, people parted to let them through.

Finally they arrived at the group. She recognized a few people; Viserys Targaryen and his wife seemed to be the first to notice the pair approaching. Alicent Hightower, the wife of Viserys, was a beautiful woman with big brown eyes and a soft face, she was clad in a dark green evening gown with black heels and her hair pulled back in a slick bun. Viserys Targaryen himself was seated in his wheelchair, the suit he wore looked similar to the one Aemond was wearing, just that he wore a red tie with it. The other people were Aegon Targaryen and Helaena Targaryen, Aemond‘s older siblings, as well as Daeron Targaryen, Aemond‘s youngest brother. They all looked immaculate, Helaena wearing a golden dress with long sleeves, Aegon looked the most casual out of all of them with his white dress shirt and black slacks. Daeron wore a dark green satin suit paired with a black dress shirt and a green tie. Moreover there were Rhaenyra Targaryen and her husband Daemon along with Rhaenyra‘s sons and Daemon‘s daughters. Rhaenyra and Daemon‘s daughters, Baela and Rhaena, wore black dresses with varying accents of red. Daemon in a black suit with a black turtleneck pullover and all of Rhaenyra‘s sons seemed to be matching their grandfather.

„Aemond! I knew you would bring the cute secretary!“ Aegon shouted as they approached. His face lit up as he saw his brother, she saw as much, but felt a wave of nervousness hit her as all eyes were on her and Aemond. The large family all seemed to expect her to say something.

„Good evening everyone.“ Aemond greeted politely. He let go of her for a moment to go over to his mother and kiss her on the cheek. „Mother.“

„Hello.“ she smiled as relaxed as she could, but still felt like anyone from the group would be coming at her at any given moment. Before anything else could be exchanged Aemond took his place by her side again, looking positively annoyed by the fact that his nephews were present.

„Just a fair warning Aemond, the waiters have not finished setting the table. Take care so that they don‘t get to your other eye.“ Lucerys, one of Aemond‘s nephews, snickered. She felt how his hand slit over to her hip and the grip on her seemed to get stronger.

„You should be careful as well, nephew. We do not want an accident to happen to your eye, would we?“ Aemond seemed so calm as he said it, but there was a very definite threat behind these words. She felt a lump form in her throat as hateful glares were exchanged between the men.

„No, we wouldn‘t.“ a new voice came from behind her. She turned around, looking for the person that had just spoken. It was Otto Hightower and she never felt relief wash over her quicker before. A warm smile spread across her face as she saw her employer.

„Mr. Hightower.“ she nodded at him. He looked away from both of the young men and sent her a kind smile, his expression turned stony again as he looked at his oldest grandson.

„Aegon, come. Some people want to meet you.“ his voice was stern as he said those words, clearly displeased that they wanted to meet the young man.

„Do I really have to?“ he whined.

„Yes!“ Mr. Hightower snarled, turning around again to make his way back into the masses. Aegon followed him silently.

They stood there in silence for a few minutes then Aemond spoke again.

„If you would excuse us.“ Aemond already started walking away, almost dragging her behind him.

„Goodbye.“ she hurriedly said as she walked with Aemond. He seemed annoyed as they walked through the crowd.

„That was intense.“ she muttered under her breath, happy about the fact that she was able to escape that circle of hell. After Aemond had asked her to accompany him to the Gala they had spoken more and he had invited her for coffee and cake from time to time. That led to her knowing a lot more about the formidable Targaryen family than before and not all of the things she learned were good. However, she had not expected things to get out of hand so quickly once they were all gathered in one place.

„There have been worse things to happen during family get-togethers.“ he muttered under his breath. Before she was able to say anything to him about the interaction again a large man swept in front of them. He was broad shouldered with shoulder long black hair and clear blue eyes.

„Now, now Aemond Targaryen!“ the man laughed and held out his hand. It was Borros Baratheon, the current head of the Storms End company, a man she strongly disliked for many reasons. Sadly, she had to interact with him regularly on a professional level. Before he was able to say anything to her someone took her hand and tugged on it.

„Come, I want to show you the balcony.“ the voice of a woman said. She looked at the woman, it was Helaena. Looking at Aemond for a moment she just nodded.

„Of course.“ Helaena dragged her to the balcony and stopped once they overlooked the city. Kings Landing was beautiful during the night, many lights were shining from all the buildings and even some of the smaller quarters of the city were alight. This city was never truly asleep, everywhere at any time people were making their way through the city and working.

„Thank you.“ she whispered softly as she leaned against the railing, looking down at the magnificent city.

„There is no need to thank me. I know how much you hate him.“ she hummed softly. Her eyes seemed distant, like she was somewhere completely different. She had been well acquainted with Helaena for most of the time she had worked for Otto Hightower, however their friendship had only begun shortly before Aemond had asked her to join him for the Gala.

They stood outside for what felt like half an hour, looking at the city and speaking hushed whispers, giggling softly at each other's jokes. Suddenly she realized that she was freezing and needed to get inside if she did not want to get hypothermic.

„Helaena? I need to get back inside, I am freezing.“ she muttered softly. Helaena just nodded and hummed.

She entered the warm hall again and felt her skin prickle at the warmth of the air. Now the next step was to find Aemond again, she did not want to be alone for too long. While walking through the crowd she greeted a few people politely and even held short conversations with them. Most of them she knew, having already met them at meetings or similar events. Out of nowhere a warm hand landed on the small of her back. She turned, fully expecting to see Aemond but she was wrong, very wrong. It was Jason Lannister.

„How nice it is to see you here!“ he greeted her with a polite smile, his hand not leaving the small of her back the whole time.

„Mr. Lannister, it is a pleasure to see you.“ she nodded politely, trying to writhe her way away from his hand, but it stayed there, moving up to her hip. It was easy to smell that the man was drunk out of his mind, his breath reeking of alcohol.

„Now tell me, doll. What did Aemond Targaryen promise you if you showed up here with him?“ Now she heard that his speech was slurred, only confirming her theory.

„I do not quite understand what you are talking about, Mr. Lannister.“ she felt how his grip on her hip only got more intense.

„You know, did he promise you money? Maybe a promotion? Or a good fuck? Because the last thing he can‘t give you, however I know someone that might.“ his face was dangerously close to hers now and she felt like she was about to throw up as her brain fully processed what the man had just said. As he was about to press his lips against her he was pulled back from her, it was such an aggressive pull that she stumbled back slightly.

„Back off Lannister. She does not want to talk to you.“ Aemond hissed as he wrapped his arm around her waist, still placing himself slightly in front of her. Before Jason Lannister was able to say anything to her or Aemond, Aemond pulled her away and into the crowd.

After they had put a good distance between them and Jason Lannister, Aemond let go of her.

„Are you okay?“ he took her hand and looked her in the eyes. For a moment she was contemplating lying to him, telling him that she was okay that this had not affected her in the slightest, but it had. It had scared her and she felt like she was about to throw up.

She just quietly shook her head and took a step closer to him, Aemond understood the gesture and pulled her into a warm embrace.

„Alright, let's find you a place to sit down.“ he took her hand and guided her through the crowd to one of the tables. He sat her down on the chair in front of him and gently rubbed her arm as he scanned the crowd. She tried to follow his gaze, she spotted the same person he did or rather the two people. It was Aegon and Otto Hightower: Aemond shouted Aegon‘s name and the man turned right away. Aemond waved his hand, signaling him to come over, Otto Hightower followed behind his grandson. As they arrived Otto‘s eyes immediately fell on the young woman sitting on the chair, she looked like a scared deer, eyes glossed over and hands shaking.

„What happened?“ he asked right away as they arrived. His face was hard and he seemed displeased.

„Jason Lannister happened,“ Aemond snarled. Otto raised one of eyebrows, Aemond leaned in and whispered in his grandfather‘s ear. His expression became furious.

„I will get one of the security people to deal with him.“ Otto disappeared after that. Aegon now stood there, looking like he had no idea what to do.

„And what do you need me for?“ Aegon asked.

„Get two lemon cakes from the buffet.“ Aemond‘s voice was commanding and Aegon quickly obliged.

The rest of the evening went by without incident. Jason Lannister had been escorted out of the building by a group of security people and no one else had dared to come near her after that, the fact that she was attached to Aemond‘s arm for the rest of the evening probably also played its part.

Just like Aemond had said the speeches were boring, but she just let her thoughts wander during that time. After the buffet had opened and people had started dancing, the shock of the encounter with Jason Lannister slipped off her like a blanket and she began to enjoy herself. While she was chatting with Helaena she looked over at Aemond who was just speaking to Criston Cole, one of the private security people of the Targaryen family. He looked a lot more relaxed now, but there was still a certain tension in his shoulders.

As he returned to the table she got up from her seat.

„Is everything alright?“ Aemond asked, surprised that she seemed to get up so abruptly.

„Yes, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to dance?“ she smiled at him, this request seemed to have taken him by surprise.

„Of course, why not?“ he smiled and took her hand. As they reached the dance floor a more upbeat song started playing. Aemond twirled her as they danced to the song. Moving towards each other, then apart again, twirling and turning. She laughed as Aemond dipped her down and pulled her up again. They continued like that for what felt like hours. She was in a bliss of pure enjoyment, especially when the slower songs played and he would place his hands on her hips and just gently sway with her. As one song came to an end she looked up at him, seeing how he looked down at her with an unreadable expression, but it was not unfamiliar, he looked at her like he had looked at her in the elevator. Then suddenly he leaned down and gently kissed her, their lips met and she was unable to breath for a moment, she was shocked, but in a pleasant way. He pulled away again, a soft smile on his lips as she looked up at him with big eyes.

„I hope that was okay.“ he whispered softly as they continued to dance.

„It was.“ she laughed softly.

The rest of the evening they danced, they danced and laughed. Aemond knew that it would not be easy for him, but courage was a first step in the right direction.

#aemond x original character #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye targaryen #aemond one shot #aemond one eye #house of the dragon s1 #house of the dragon #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon fan fiction #aemond fanfiction #fan fiction #alternate universe

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Vipers~ Part 3/3 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall part 15 of the series “Growing Strong”. The masterlist for the series, and vipers parts 1 and 2, can be found on the pinned post on my profile. Tumblr is being mean and not letting me link it here. :( ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of death of previous characters, GOT typical stigmatized bastardy, hypocrisy, Larys Strong is a warning in and of himself, GOT typical violent acts and blood, self-defense killing

Summary: If this was the end, at least you were being treated to a lovely view.

A/N: PLEASE read the warnings, this chapter gets a bit heavy, folks. Thank you so much for bearing with me. This chapter is a hefty one, but there’s a lot that goes down, so I hope you don’t mind too much. As always, thank you so much for reading and for your support.🖤🖤🖤

PS, snow prevented me from going to work today, so instead, I wrote a little winterish fluffy one shot with Harwin and Ms. Tyrell that I’m going to post on 12/25. Until then, I hope you have happy holidays (if you celebrate), and if not, I just hope you have a nice couple of next few days!🖤

Ser Vaemond’s lifeless eyes haunted you every time you closed your own.

The troubling image stayed with you throughout the day and night. You could not bring yourself to eat; nothing was remotely appealing. When you tried to sleep, all you could see was the flash of Dark Sister catching the sun and silver braided locks, rolling and rolling.

This, this is what Harwin tried desperately to warn you of. There was no way Harwin could have foreseen Vaemond Velaryon losing his head right before your eyes, but he knew Daemon. Harwin had come to know a great deal about him while the Rogue Prince served as the Commander of the City Watch, and Harwin was under his command. Prince Daemon was impulsive and violent, and it was no surprise that such traits had a tendency to bring out unspeakable acts from a person. Harwin alluded to but had ultimately spared you many of the details regarding the Rogue Prince’s various misdeeds, many of which he had witnessed first hand all those years ago.

Part of you wished Harwin had not withheld the information. You just might have listened to him when he pleaded for you to not go to the Red Keep alone.

Even the next day, when you found yourself surrounded by Princess Rhaenyra and the youngest of her children in her chambers, as you had already several times during your short stay, you could not take the same comfort from it. It only made the yearning to be reunited with Harwin and your own family that much stronger.

At least you would not have to wait too long.

“... Lady Y/N?”

You blinked, realizing Prince Joffrey was staring up at you inquisitively. “Forgive me, My Prince. Where were we?”

The young prince hesitated for a moment, but eventually resumed his reading. Prince Joffrey had recently begun his tutelage under the maesters in Dragonstone, and was eager for any opportunity to demonstrate his reading and discuss other topics he was learning about with anyone who would pay him mind. You found Prince Joffrey’s enthusiasm as he recounted House Targaryen’s origins in Old Valeryia endearing, but it wasn’t enough to entirely lift your spirits.

Princess Rhaenyra noticed this as well. She exchanged a silent word with her husband, who rose to his feet from his chair near the fireplace. With Prince Viserys occupying one of his arms, Prince Daemon offered his free hand to Prince Joffrey.

“Come, Joffrey. Perhaps your sisters would like to hear the tale next?”

Prince Joffrey nodded obediently, closed his book, and took the hand his stepfather offered him. As Prince Daemon and the younger princes made to leave, Princess Rhaenyra handed Prince Aegon over to his nursemaid, who followed suit. In just a few moments, her chambers were completely empty.

Save the two of you.

The door clicked shut.

“Y/N.”

Though you were reluctant to do so, you forced yourself to meet her concerned look.

“Come sit with me?”

You crossed the room slowly and lowered yourself onto the sofa beside her, but sat very lightly.

“You have been distracted all day,” Princess Rhaenyra observed. “You may have tried to disguise it, but I do not think you have changed so much in the past seven years that I would not be able to tell something is amiss. I know you, and I can tell that something troubles you. What is on your mind?”

“Do you regret it?”

Princess Rhaenyra was taken aback. “Regret what, my friend?”

“Regret it?” you implored. “Do you regret that the actions you’ve taken led to Ser Vaemond’s death? Because although those deeds were not mine, I have steadfastly supported you all these years. And I do not feel beyond reproach for what happened to him.”

Ser Vaemond may have acted unsavory and publicly shamed Princess Rhaenyra and her children, but his anger was rooted from truth, not treason. His actions may have been misguided, but the fuel that drove him to act was based in reality, not fiction.

And he had lost his head for it.

Princess Rhaenyra looked at you calculatingly. Thankfully, she did not look offended by your questions, only curious, as if trying to determine some deeper meaning behind them.

“If you are asking me if I feel guilty about Ser Vaemond’s death, of course I do,” she avowed. “For though it was not I that held the sword, my actions placed him in the path of husband’s blade. I can and will acknowledge that.”

“... But?”

“If you are asking if I regret my companionship with Ser Royce, my answer is no.”

You let out the breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding.

Princess Rhaenyra continued on, and as she did, you clung on to every one of her words.

“I cannot regret it, for I had no other choice. That was my task, as my father’s heir- to strengthen my claim, and ensure my succession. Besides what these vipers whisper about it, I truly loved my husband. But Laenor could not give me what I needed. I needed heirs.”

“And so you got them.”

“And so I did.” 

You had finally begun to understand the deeper motivations behind Princess Rhaenyra’s dangerous affair with the late son of the Lord of Storm’s End. Yes, perhaps passion had played a part in it. Princess Rhaenyra was a passionate woman. But she spoke of the matter with great conviction, and there was no doubting that Princess Rhaenyra viewed the affair of securing her three eldest heirs with Ser Royce to be just as much duty as it might have been for pleasure.

She had married Ser Laenor for duty, but her hopes for the union had fallen to the wayside. Perhaps that was why she indulged herself to marry the true and long withstanding object of her desire after his passing.

Princess Rhaenyra defended, “Ser Vaemond’s death was unfortunate, but avoidable. I will bear harsh criticisms from those who falsely deem themselves to be my superiors, as I have had to for years. But Ser Vaemond insulted my children and threatened their very futures. Having had a parent who, for all their good intentions, could not or chose not to defend me as often as I would have liked, I promised myself long ago that I would be different to my own. Ser Vaemond was destined to meet this end, for as determined as he was to usurp my son’s inheritance, I am just as determined to staunchly defend it. I would do anything to protect my children.”

Queen Alicent’s own words from your conversation the week prior echoed in your mind.

…But I would do anything to protect my children and grandchildren…

A queen, a princess, and a lady. All three of you had only ever wanted to protect your own. But the lengths at which you would go to secure their safety, and the ulterior motives of those around you, doomed you all to be constantly be at odds.

“If I had to do it all again, knowing what I know now, I still would,” Princess Rhaenyra mused after a comfortable silence. “Although, there is one regret I still have- and one thing I would change.”

“And what is that, Your Grace?”

“The very moment someone dared to breathe a foul word about your husband, I should have had my father cut out their tongue at once.”

“You would run out of daggers before you ran out of tongues, Your Grace.”

“Mayhaps. But if there was anything that would have spared you and Harwin from being associated with the consequences of my actions, it would have been done.”

She had said something very similar to you years ago. Just as you had not then, you did not doubt the sincerity of Princess Rhaenyra’s words now, only whether she would be in a position to make good on her promise. Years of vicious rumors attempting to taint the image of you and your husband did not simply erase themselves from people’s minds. Truthfully, what could Princess Rhaenyra do to repay you for all you and your family had endured the years you spent by her side?

Once more, Queen Alicent's ominous words of warning crept over you.

Your loyalty to your husband and Princess Rhaenyra is admirable… I can only hope that your former mistress will never use it against you. 

Princess Rhaenyra reached out and took your hands in her own, distracting you from your less than pleasant thoughts. “I appreciate you coming here to show me your support. Though the means were not desirable, I cannot find much fault with how it ended.”

Prince Lucerys had been reconfirmed as Lord Corlys’s heir to Driftmark. Prince Daemon had bought them all more time to strengthen their claims.

“But we both know the capital is not the same one that we once knew. And for now, I feel we are both better served taking our leave of it. After we dine with the King this evening, my family will return to Dragonstone. I may be a princess, but as your friend, I advise you to depart as well.”

“I sent a raven to Harwin last night,” you informed her. The thought of seeing your husband and children in just a few short days brought a faint smile to your lips. After attending a family dinner of your own that evening, you and the escort were due to leave on the morrow to head to Duskendale. And, for many reasons, you were counting the passing hours.

“Let us hope that the next time we meet, we shall both be in better spirits.”

A wonderful thought. And hopefully, an attainable one. The state of things was already quite bleak. You did not believe it possible for any dark turns to linger on the road ahead.

Not yet, at least.

Larys could tell you were tired, though not particularly nervous as you entered into his chambers later that evening. That was perfectly suitable- the more relaxed you were, the more likely your tongue would loosen as well.

And the more fervently Larys could reassure his Queen that you were not knowledgeable of his connection to the fire at Harrenhal, the better.

You had taken care to change into a gown different from the one he’d spotted you wearing in the gardens earlier that afternoon. The gown you wore now was more suitable evening attire, and was remarkably flattering on you. Every now and then, the small glimmer from the fire and nearby candles caught your eyes in a twinkle.

Larys supposed, in the right light and angle, he could see what his elder brother saw in you. But there was another beauty from the Reach who had long since caught Larys’s eye, one that was much more preferred.

After exchanging small pleasantries, Larys offered to pour you a cup of wine. To his delight, you accepted unwittingly. But when it came to the main course, you completely paled at the sight of the cooked venison.

“Forgive me,” you muttered, politely raising a hand to decline his offer to cut you off a piece. “I have not had much of an appetite as of late. The events of yesterday have left me feeling rather queasy.”

To each their own. Larys cut off a healthy serving and skillfully placed it onto his own plate. “Ah, yes. A gruesome scene, was it not?”

“You do not seem particularly surprised. Am I to believe sudden and unannounced beheadings happen often at the foot of the Iron Throne, Good Brother?”

Larys mentalled chided himself. Reign it in. “No, they do not. But, in addition to the Master of Whisperers, I was also most recently appointed to the position of the Lord Confessor, My Lady.”

“My apologies- it briefly slipped my mind that you've served the realm as a confessor for quite some time.”

You were not the first to have forgotten about Larys. But perhaps you would be one of the last. “Yes, My Lady. I’ve been a confessor since before you even came to Court.”

“Then it is only natural for you to have seen some… things, I expect?”

This was all hardly appropriate dinner conversation, but if the discussion kept you talking, Larys could live with it. “I will concede that I have seen men in rather… unfortunate, circumstances.”

You said nothing, but instead grabbed a handful of grapes. Larys doubted you’d work up the nerve to even eat them.

“But enough talk about all of that,” he redirected, giving you the finest smile he possessed. “How are the children?”

At the mere mention of your and Harwin’s spawn, your face lit up.

For the next several minutes, Larys listened to you prattle on about his nephews and niece. 

… Derrick favors Harwin greatly in looks, but luckily, his mind is like that of your father’s… A brawny boy with an intellect. Perhaps the lad was lucky to inherit more brains than his father, if he was still burdened with Harwin’s looks. And yes, Larys could concede that his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, had been an intelligent man. But he had lacked the “wisdom” to see the wolf in sheep’s clothing among his own kin, hadn’t he?

… Selwin favors my own brother so greatly, some days I feel as though I have seen a ghost. But he’s kind to everyone, unless he is provoked… A boy who had inherited Harwin’s notoriously quick to ignite temper. That was most unfortunate. And though the boy looked like your late brother, Larys couldn’t help but wonder if he was as meddling as Lord Derron had been. Look at what your brother’s curiosity had cost him, after all.

Was this really who Queen Alicent was worried about becoming privy to his connection to the fire at Harrenhal? A mother who, like many others, placed far too much importance in her own children? Larys was tempted to believe he could personally set Harrenhal ablaze before your very eyes, but if your own children were nearby, you’d be far too distracted to pay him any mind.

Queen Alicent had given you far too much credit.

“... And then there’s Luciya. She doesn’t seem to favor any one side of the family in particular. But she’s very sweet. I would love for her to finally meet her uncle, Good Brother. Perhaps you might be willing to ride out and meet us on our way back through? I am sure you would be just as taken with her as we are.” 

Larys had never had any inclination to be nurturing, and he had never felt anything but complete apathy for Derrik and Selwin, let alone for any children at all. He doubted your statement very much. It was only after reminding himself that the role he was playing was that of a caring Good Brother and uncle did he force himself to smile.

“Perhaps I shall. Pray tell, where are you going next?”

“Since you already knew of my intent to visit King’s Landing without either Hariwn or myself informing you of it, I assumed you knew the extent of all our travel plans.”

Larys smiled again. But this time, it felt even more strained. “I know a great deal of what goes on in the realm, Good Sister. But not even I am omnipotent.”

You laughed. “I only jest with you, Lord Larys. We left the Reach to visit with Princess Rhaenyra and her family in Dragonstone.”

This caught Larys by surprise. “Dragonstone? … After everything?”

“Why should we not? We were extended an invitation. Forgive me, Good Brother, but I did not believe my closeness with Princess Rhaenyra was a secret.”

“Neither was my brother’s.”

Larys knew the slip was a possibly grave one when you abruptly dropped the grape you had been contemplating eating back onto your plate. Your own smile fell, and you looked at Larys across the table with a worryingly blank expression.

“Larys… You don’t truly believe that your brother is the sire of the eldest princes, do you?”

Larys knew how troubled their oafish father was by the possibility. It was made apparent to him that Lord Lyonel believed that intimacy existed between Harwin and Princess Rhaenyra. But what interested him far more was how vehemently you insisted the opposite. Were you truly that desperate to refuse to acknowledge what many others already had about your husband? … Or was there some other truth that you knew that gave you cause not to abandon your position on the matter?

“It is my turn to apologize, My Lady. ‘Twas a poor taste of comment. Of course, I would hope that Harwin is not the father of the Princess’s eldest sons. Not only would that be an irreparable political scandal, but that would taint the very image I have of him.”

The tension in your jaw slackened, but you remained silent, urging Larys to continue.

“I know how devoted my brother is to you, Good Sister, and I find it hard to believe such foul rumors about the princes’ parentage can be given any true merit. However, the question does remain of why the princes take so little after Ser Laenor… A genuine curiosity, isn’t it?”

Unfortunately for Larys, you did not take the bait. “‘Tis no curiosity at all, My Lord. The princes clearly take after their grandmother’s Baratheon heritage.”

Pft. Larys had to take a drink from his goblet to stifle the laugh that threatened his already delicate facade. “But of course, Good Sister. If only others at Court saw it as plainly as you did, yesterday's festivities might have been avoidable after all.”

You took a sip from your own goblet, still regarding him carefully.

“Mayhaps we can turn to some lighter conversation?” Larys proposed, hoping to turn the tide. “How is my brother?”

Quite similar to when Larys had mentioned your children, your expression brightened at once. “Well, to begin, he wishes you would write to him more often, My Lord.”

You were about as subtle as a dragon, Larys decided.

“But beyond that, Harwin is well. Lord Dannis is an excellent steward, and Harwin is able to carry out most of his duties as Lord of Harrenhal without having to leave the Reach.”

“Has he no desire to return to our family’s home?”

“Do you?”

Larys had no form of emotional attachment to the decrepit excuse of a keep that was Harrenal. But there were very, very few things he deemed worthwhile to complicate with emotions. And Harwin was little else than an emotionally driven man. “He is the Lord of Harrenhal, My Lady. Surely my brother does not intend to keep himself from returning to its halls forever?”

“I am certain Harwin will return to Harrenhal at some point or another, Good Brother… But that will only be when he is ready to do so. If he does not wish to return to your family’s home, I will not be the one that forces him to.”

Perhaps you had even less conviction than his brother, if that were even possible.

“... The things we saw when we were last there were awful, My Lord. None of my family wishes to tempt the ill memories of that night to return to our minds.”

You had opened the door. Larys would capitalize on it.

The time had finally come for him to delve into the details and discover what all was learned from the fire at Harrenhal, and to determine whether you and Harwin would be a threat to everything Larys had strove to accomplish in the name of his beloved Queen.

Perhaps you knew little to nothing. Perhaps you knew more than you’d let on so far. Regardless, your fate would be sealed.

Larys had already committed all sorts of atrocities in the name of Queen Alicent. Should it be deemed necessary, what was one more?

“I understand my brother was quite disturbed after the fire.”

You raised an eyebrow at Larys’s suggestion. “Would you not be? Harwin fought through the flames to try and save your father, only to fail.” You nearly shuddered to think what Harwin had overheard, had he reached Lord Lyonel’s chambers before the man had passed.

“He wrote to me often, you know.”

“Harwin believed that if there was anyone who could discover a connection between the fire and someone who roamed these halls, it would be you, Lord Larys.”

“Alas, my efforts were fruitless,” Larys admitted gloomily. “... But, should you feel so inclined, I was wondering if you might answer some questions I have?”

You frowned slightly. “Certainly Harwin already provided you with all the information you could have possibly needed to perform your due diligence?”

“Aye, he did. But, for my own sake, and for my own thirst for justice in my father’s name, would you humor me?”

Larys’s sudden turn of questioning was rather suspicious. From what you understood, Harwin’s letters pleading with Larys to investigate the fire and any potential connections to those within the Red Keep had gone relatively ignored. Larys had been all too quick to deem the affair an accident, and cited the recent construction projects within Harrenhal as possible sources of origin. It begged the question of why your Good Brother was showing any sort of interest in the fire now.

But who were you to deny his inquiries?

“If I have the answers you seek, consider them yours.”

“Harwin mentioned Lord Dannis showed you to a suspicious man the morning after the fire,” Larys recalled before taking another bite of venison.

“Yes.” You grimaced at the memory. “‘Twas no use in questioning him- he was short of a tongue, I’m afraid.”

Larys’s neutral expression was still, and unchanging. “Did he bear any sort of emblem, or other identifying mark?”

“... Like what, My Lord?”

“Well, from my own experience dealing with similar filth, those who devise monstrous deeds such as a plot to kill the Hand of the King and his heirs usually tend to want to leave their own mark upon it. Perhaps it is a bit foolish, but some of the most twisted deviants care little for whether they are likely to be caught, or they simply believe they will not be. If there was any sort of emblem, sigil, or any other kind of heraldry, even something small and insignificant, that this strange, tongue-less man wore or bore, it could be an indication of whom he served.”

You did not dare to breathe. “I thought you believed the fire at Harrenhal to be an accident, My Lord. Have you reconsidered your stance?”

“Regrettably, I have not. I still full-heartedly believe the tragedy was just that- a tragedy. Unavoidable, but the fault of no one. Still, I consider myself to be a particularly thorough man, and I like to consider all possibilities, regardless of how improbable they may seem.”

“... It would be most convenient if the man had had something to indicate his master, or mistress, as you have described. Unfortunately, he did not.”

That had been your agreement.

Outside of you, Harwin, and Lord Dannis, not a single soul from Harrenhal to King’s Landing to the Reach knew of the firefly pin that had been found on the suspicious man taken captive the night of the fire. And it would remain that way. There was some hope, however small it was, that if such an individual who used that sigil would be so bold as to carry out another plot against you, you would be able to link the two events together, and hopefully, the orchestrator would be revealed.

Though Larys was Harwin’s family, and most likely could be trusted, the less who knew about the firefly pin, the better.

Larys looked thoroughly surprised by your answer. “Truly? … None at all?”

“None at all.” You took another drink of wine from your goblet.

Larys mimicked your action. “How most peculiar… Well, perhaps this suspicious man was not so suspicious, after all. Or at least, did not have a hand in the tragedy. Since he bore no indication of whom he may or may not have been serving, he could have merely been stealing food from the kitchens, for all we know.”

You sincerely doubted that, but did not disagree with your Good Brother’s helpful and convenient proposal.

…

For the rest of the dinner, Larys seemed to be in a notably pleasant mood. You suspected, despite what Larys may have told Harwin, he might have had his own doubts about the origins of the fire at Harrenhal.

You were happy you could put your Good Brother at ease, even if your words were not entirely honest. Harwin was already burdened with the truth that someone had likely set out to kill his father, himself, and your entire family. It was senseless to burden Larys with the information as well, especially since you had no viable suspect to show for it.

The rest of the dinner was spent in frivolous but calm conversation. It was a bit boring for your taste, but you would happily take an evening without excitement after witnessing the horror that was Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s beheading the prior afternoon.

As Larys went to pour you another cup of wine, you placed your hand over the top of your goblet to stop him. “I really should not. If I drink too much more, I fear I will not be able to stay atop of my horse on the morrow.”

Larys did not laugh at your joke. Instead, he looked intrigued. “You are leaving so soon?”

You nodded. “I wrote to Harwin last night. With any luck, my escort and I will make it to Duskendale in just a few days.”

“How most wise,” your Good Brother noted, pouring another cup of whine for himself. “With all sorts of brigands and bandits preying upon travelers these days, it was a good idea to inform my brother of when you expect you.”

The thoughts of being ambushed along the way left you feeling worried. “Has there been a particular problem with miscreants of that nature in the Crownlands, My Lord?”

“No more than the usual, though they always pose a threat, My Lady.” When you said nothing, Larys added, “But I have seen your guards, particularly Ser Alren. I would venture you are in safe hands, especially if my brother deemed them capable of keeping you so.”

You smiled, thankful for his reassurance. Then, you exhaled. “This was a lovely dinner, Good Brother. It was nice to see you after all these years. Perhaps you might extend your brother the same courtesy in the near future?”

Larys smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “If the gods are kind, perhaps I shall.”

You scooted your chair back from the table. Larys made to stand as well, but you waved him off. As you moved your feet beneath you to rise from your seat, one of them inadvertently nudged Larys’s cane, which he had propped up against his side of the table. The cane tipped over and hit the floor, rolling a few feet away before coming to a slow stop. 

You cursed under your breath. “My apologies, My Lord. Perhaps I drank a bit too much wine after all.”

Larys tried to rise once again. “Do not trouble yourself over it. I shall retrieve it.”

“No, no,” you insisted quickly, already walking over to where the cane had landed. “‘Tis no trouble at all.” You bent down and swiped the cane up into your free hand. As you did, you noticed two things.

The first was the smoothness of the finished wood beneath your fingers, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

The second was the rather peculiar jewel and metalwork ingrained in the pommel of the cane. You only glanced at it at first, but then it suddenly captured your complete focus. The gold metalwork was fashioned into a simple but clearly discernible depiction of an eerily familiar insect. Affixed to the bottom of the bug was a just as familiar yellow gem.

Once you realized you had seen this same design not once, but twice before, you shocked yourself when you were able to muffle your gasp.

First, you had seen it the very day you left King’s Landing, almost seven years ago. It had caught the rising sun in the courtyard as your carriage departed.

Second, you had seen it pinned to the cloak of the man who lingered suspiciously on the grounds the night of the fire at Harrenhal. As the rising sun bathed the simmering and smoking remains of the keep, it had also caught the yellow gem.

And third, illuminated by the fireplace before you, it was right here and now, before your own eyes. In your very own hands.

Ingrained in the pommel of your Good Brother’s cane.

A firefly.

“My Lady, are you alright?”

You flinched at Larys’s question, but went with the movement rather than against it. Pushing yourself forward, you swallowed thickly, thankful your head was turned away from his direction, if only for a moment. You let out a silent breath, and turned back to face him. Keeping your voice steady and even, you supplied simply, “Yes… ‘Twas only inspecting it for damage, My Lord.”

You took slow steps back to the table and handed the cane back over to Larys, who took it from you with an appreciative smile.

“I wouldn’t concern yourself with damaging it, Good Sister,” he dismissed politely. “It’s a sturdy thing, just like me.”

You forced yourself to offer him a single laugh in response.

Before Larys could say anything further, you filled the brief silence with words of your own. “Forgive me, Lord Larys, but I am suddenly feeling ill. Since we are due to leave early tomorrow morning, would you be too offended if I retired?”

Larys looked a bit confused, but not suspicious. Not yet. After a moment, he shook his head. “Of course not, My Lady. Rest well.”

With one last and extremely strained smile, you headed over towards the chamber doors.

Behind you, Larys called, “And safe travels, Good Sister.”

…

……

………

……

…

It had been a long day in the Red Keep.

But for Lord Larys Strong, Master of Whisperers, the day had only just begun.

“Let go of me!... This isn’t right!”

Lord Caswell’s cries as he struggled against the guards were slowly silenced the further away he was dragged.

“You did well, Lord Larys.”

Larys looked over at Lord Otto Hightower carefully. He sought no praise from the man before him. The only one Larys ever allowed himself to desire such a futile thing from the man’s daughter. But it was of little consequence to Larys for him placate the Lord Hand’s ego by feigning humbleness and appreciation. 

“Only my duty, my Lord Hand.”

Larys was content to leave on that note. Queen Alicent must have been worried sick, being forced to wait for hours until someone brought word of the continuing search for Prince Aegon. Now that Larys had rooted out all the possible turncoats locked within the Red Keep and handed them over to be properly dealt with, he felt he would be of better use offering himself to be at Queen Alicent’s disposal, should she need him at all.

For anything.

“You’ve spent many hours with the Queen as of late.”

There was an unspoken question in the Lord Hand’s seemingly innocent statement.

Larys paused. He tapped the bottom of his cane thoughtfully. Out of all the many interesting developments that had taken place in the Red Keep that morning, the one before him now seemed to be the most intriguing of them all. Lord Otto Hightower had never publicly insulted him, but Larys had suspected him guilty of whispering foul things about him in his Queen’s ear when he was not present. The fool. Did her father not know how indebted Queen Alicent was to her most dedicated servant? The only reason Lord Otto was before him and not his own father, Lord Lyonel, was by Larys’s designs. And now, the leach wanted something from him?

Perhaps Larys ought to make him pay for his hubris. No telling what might come of it, but since he had no desire to truly please the Lord Hand, it could only result in things Larys could use for his own advantageous purposes.

“There’s no reason those hours could not, in the end, benefit you.”

The way Lord Otto looked at him then, in the very moment he believed Larys was willing to negotiate some sort of arrangement, Larys was convinced he had chosen the wrong path in life. Had he not been born with his physical deformity, nor the second son of a lord, he would have made a killing as an actor. He was certain of it. How many people could say that they out-slithered the viper?

“I am relieved to hear that you are dedicated to the realm as a whole, Lord Larys, and not just to my daughter.”

“One would be foolish to bite the hand that feeds it, no?”

“Quite,” Lord Otto agreed with a smug smile. “... There is another matter that I wished to discuss with you, and since I can see you are perfectly capable of seeing the bigger picture in all of this mess, I hope you will not misunderstand the reason for which I make my request.”

“Name it, Lord Hand.”

“Lady Y/N Tyrell.”

Larys regarded Lord Otto with great caution, suddenly feeling the incredibly strong urge to tread lightly. “My Good Sister? … She left the Red Keep a few days ago now, Lord Hand. Her party rides for Duskendale as we speak.”

Did Larys have some regrets about simply letting you leave? Of course. But what choice did he have? You had proven you posed no threat to him, that you knew nothing of his involvement in the fire at Harrenhal. And beyond that, you had already written to Harwin, who knew exactly when to expect your arrival. Delaying that would have only roused unnecessary suspicion from his brother.

“Yes, she did,” Lord Otto conceded. “… But she must never reach her destination.”

Larys did not bother to hide his surprise. His initial inclination was to use this fragile but blossoming alliance with Lord Otto to further Queen Alicent’s cause, by providing her with the hidden knowledge of her father’s actions. But if Larys could benefit personally by aligning his own desires with that of the Lord Hand’s…

“You are no fool, Lord Larys. Two of the most powerful houses in the Reach are the Hightowers and the Tyrells. One house can be counted on to support the one, true king. The other can not. Should this come to war, the Reach will be divided. If Lady Y/N reaches Duskendale, she and your brother will set sail for Dragonstone shortly after, and submit themselves to the usurper's ranks. I fear your brother may already be a lost cause, but there is no reason why Princess Rhaenyra should have the Wardeness of the South and Lord of Harrenhal in her pocket.”

Larys knew of the affluent resources at his Good Sister’s disposal. Gold. Lots of it. Men. Lots of those, too. The Lord Hand had a point- what a pity it would be if such a valuable asset should fall into the wrong hands. “She must not reach her destination then, My Lord Hand.”

Lord Otto looked shocked by Larys’s swift decision. “Lady Y/N is your Good Sister, Lord Larys. Your brother’s wife.”

“Traitors to the crown are no blood of mine.”

Lord Otto’s look of shock shifted into one of understanding, appreciation, even. “I am impressed; you truly are a man of reason, Lord Larys… Go, then. Ensure Lady Y/N befalls some troubles on the road. Whatever men you need to fulfill this task, consider them yours.”

“I have men under my employ already, Lord Hand, but you humble me with your offer.”

“Use whoever you wish, then. Just see to it that it gets done.”

Larys nodded his head respectfully. As he turned to leave once again, the gears already began to churn in his mind. The party is already a few days ahead, so some fast riders would be most prudent... A letter to help frame the altercation as an accident.... and perhaps another as a safeguard-

“And, Lord Larys?”

Larys looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Do take care that this matter is taken care of quickly and cleanly. No mistakes can be afforded.”

“Of course, Lord Hand.”

Larys had already disposed of another golden rose once before. But by the time Lord Derron had caught on to his doings, it was far too late- the letter of warning Lord Derron addressed to his dear younger sister never made it into your hands. Instead, it was locked away in Larys’s chambers, where it would remain.

It had been a close call, but the disposal of this second golden rose would not be. Larys would make certain of that.

Lord Otto added one last remark. “And I think we can both understand that the Queen need not be burdened with this unpleasant business.”

For once, Larys was inclined to agree with the Lord Hand. Queen Alicent had shown him an unbecoming weakness she still harbored within herself; it was foolish to think your allegiance from Princess Rhaenyra could ever be swayed.

But Larys was not weak, he was a Strong. And he would do what needed to be done.

…

……

……….

……

…

The dagger at the side of your waist felt awfully heavy.

With each step your horse took, the small metal blade felt as though it was pulling you further and further down to the muddy ground below. If it got to be heavy enough, you might just allow yourself to fall with it.

The party was making terrible time. What should have only been a few days of traveling had grown into upwards of a week. Heavy rains in the area made the main road sloppy, and slowed the horses down greatly. Someone had proposed taking less-traveled paths off the main road, since the cover of trees would have redirected some of the falling rains from the grounds below the branches. But that was quickly set aside out of the concern of safety.

If Harwin hadn’t already grown worried about the extended traveling time, he certainly would have by now.

Harwin.

Gods, the one person you wanted to see more than anyone else, and yet, the very thought of being reunited with Harwin completely terrified you. How in the Seven Hells were you to explain not only that you had discovered who had plotted the fire at Harrenhal, but that it was none other than his beloved brother?

You had little doubt that Harwin would have extreme difficulty believing you at first… if at all. There could not be enough importance placed on determining the best phrasing and manner by which you revealed the discovery to him. But for the life of you, despite hours you spent on the road, you could not bring yourself to think of the matter any more than what your racing thoughts forced you to.

“We should stop up here at the turn, My Lady.”

You looked over at Ser Alren, who was riding his own horse beside yours. A few men in front and a few more bringing up the rear comprised all of the traveling party.

“Again?” You bit back the frustrated sigh that threatened to spill past your lips. “We are losing daylight, and at this pace, we’ve at least another two hours until the next inn.”

At any moment, realization could strike Larys. Your Good Brother would realize how oddly you had behaved at the end of your shared dinner, would put the pieces together, and would most likely act. But you had chosen not to share your shocking revelation with Ser Alren or the rest of the escort, as Harwin was the one who deserved to hear the truth from you first. You did not mean to come across short, but you had to continue impressing upon the party how urgently you desired to pick up the pace.

“It is to offer themselves relief, My Lady.”

You internally cursed. As if you could not afford your protectors that small decency. “Very well. But let’s be quick about it.”

The party directed their horses off to the side of the road, though you had not passed or even seen any other travelers for several hours. As most of the men dismounted and disappeared from view into the treeline, you, Ser Alren, and two others who had chosen to stay behind remained.

It was silent for several long moments, with the flapping of the Tyrell banners in the wind the only sound that could be heard.

When you suddenly dismounted, Ser Alren gave you a questioning look. You told him, “I shall be but a moment.”

Ser Alren looked as though he wanted to protest, but he did not. “Please, My Lady- make haste.” To the other two men who had remained behind, he directed, “Go and see what is keeping the others, would you?”

You crossed the road and disappeared into the opposite treeline that the rest of the party had gone into. After a short walk under the trees, you found a stream. Thankfully, the water looked decently clear. Even if your mind would not allow you to be entirely at ease, perhaps a freshening up would allow you to feel a little bit better. You scrubbed at your hands, and then your face. Though you still felt tired, largely in part to your inability to sleep much at all over the past few days, the cold water did wonders to help lift some of the grogginess.

When you were satisfied that you felt as well as you were likely to become, you headed back to the road. The closer you drew, the louder the horses became. They were becoming restless.

When they came into view, you confirmed as much. The horses were still tied to the trees that their riders had fixed them too, but they pulled against the restricted reins, as if trying to break free. But what was even more alarming was what you did not see.

“Ser Alren?”

When Ser Alren stepped around one of the horses and into your line of sight, you let out a sigh of relief. “Forgive me, My Lady. It looks as though something has spooked the horses-”

You could barely string your words together fast enough as you yelped, “Behind you!”

A cloaked figure caught Ser Alren off guard. Your warning had given your companion enough notice for him to step out of the way of his assailant’s blade, but not enough time to escape him outright. Ser Alren unsheathed his own sword, and the pair were entangled in a vicious scuffle.

Sounds of further fighting echoed beyond in the otherwise silent woods. You could also hear the thundering of hooves coming from up ahead, and felt the trembling of the ground. There was no telling how many more enemies were descending upon you and the party, but there was no doubt that some were already here.

“Run, My Lady!”

You barely had a moment to process Ser Alren’s command before someone grabbed you from behind.

In addition to showing you how to use the dagger he’d gifted you, Hariwn had also long since taught you some basic maneuvers for self-defense. When you suddenly found yourself in the clutches of an attacker, your instincts jumped to attention.

You kicked your favored leg free from your skirts and brought it down to the ground as hard as you could. When your heel collided with the foot of the assailant who’d grabbed you, a raw vocalization of pain rang in your ears. It was no normal scream, but you paid it no mind as your captor’s hold loosened enough for you to break free.

Your feet worked of their own accord as you sprinted away from the scene and back underneath the trees. Your heart burned as you ran further and further, but you did not dare turn around, lest you find yourself being pursued.

Only when you came upon the stream you’d found did you dare to take a moment. You glanced behind you- there was no one. The cooler air caused your breaths to come out in smoky puffs as you tried to gather your bearings.

You could run. Or rather, keep running. You were armed with a dagger, but not trained nor prepared to duel with men bearing swords. Safety first, those had been Harwin’s words once. Seek safety first, and strategize second. No use in calculating a plan of action when you could still be blindsighted at any moment.

Running it was, then. Should you need to, you could find it in yourself to climb a tree. You hadn’t done anything of the sort since you were a girl, but you’d find a way. You’d much rather await for rescue in a tree than allowing yourself to fall prey to whatever these assailants had in store for you on the ground.

In the distance, the clashing of swords sung.

Move, you told yourself.

You took a step forward, but froze as you saw another cloaked figure in the periphery of your vision. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do what you did next, whether it was stupidity, fear, or anger, but it was certainly something that would’ve had Harwin in a concerned fit.

Instead of running, you turned, stood tall, and faced the cloaked figure head on.

In the setting sun, you saw a faint glimmer emitting from the front of their cloak. The figure removed their hood at your challenge, revealing the face of a man whom you did not recognize. 

“Who are you?” you demanded authoritatively. “Who do you serve?”

The man said nothing.

You surmised, “Do you refuse to speak, or are you simply unable to?”

As if willing to humor you, the man opened his mouth to reveal a tongueless void. You grimaced, thinking of your next move.

But you were spared devising your next course of action when the man across the way was suddenly speared, and a sword pierced through his stomach from behind.

You gasped, and once more, your instinct urged you to run. But you ran straight into the arms of another. And judging by the tight grip you found yourself ensnared in once again, you knew they were not the arms of a rescuer. You kicked and struggled in their grasp, fighting with enough strength that both you and your captor tumbled to the ground.

There was a brief struggle for power, with you getting the upper hand for a moment, and then losing your ground. Your attacker managed to snake an arm around your neck from behind you. When they applied pressure, your senses kicked into a height of which you’d never experienced before.

You used every bit of fight left within you to reach for the dagger at your waist. You’d been wise to not brandish it sooner, or else you likely would have been without it now. You and the assailant attempting to get the best of you rolled on the ground once more. You went with the momentum, hoping it would lure your the man into a false sense of hope that you had given up your struggle.

With your foe behind you, and your hand on the dagger, which was still shielded beneath your cloak, you caught a brief glimpse of the sky. It was painted beautifully by the setting sun. As your thumb brushed the rose on the dagger’s pommel, you faintly thought how much you would have loved to stare at it until it was no more. You longed to watch it fade until the image was replaced by the darkness of night, disrupted only by the cold lights of the stars. But with every passing moment, the breath in your lungs was escaping you.

If this was the end, at least you were being treated to a lovely view.

With a strength you did not know you possessed, you took the dagger in both of your hands, and with all the force you could muster, you drove it down past your side, and into the flesh of the body behind you.

There was no scream. Only a sickening wet sound that was haunting similar to the sound of Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s head being struck from his body.

The pressure of the arm around your neck loosened, before eventually ceasing altogether. You gasped for air, ignoring the burning within you.

Before you could even think, another pair of hands reached for you, and you flinched away. Your dagger was beyond your reach now, presumably still impaled in the stomach of your previous assailant. But you’d come this far, you’d be damned to go down without swinging. Screwing your eyes shut, you flung your fists about until you made contact with something solid. Metal.

Armor.

But what you heard next was not silence, nor a peculiarly pained noise, but a comfortingly familiar voice instead.

“Stop! Stop, it’s me!”

Your eyes shot open, the face above you revealing itself to be none other than the one who mattered to you most.

“Harwin.”

Harwin, donning his armor, was panting heavily, with half his hair pulled up and away from his face. He scanned the area briefly before his comforting hazel eyes returned to you. The love, and relief, that you saw within them was overwhelming. But your husband did not look at you for long, as his focus quickly fell to your side.

“Are you hurt?”

Your eyes followed his own, where you saw angry splotches of red along the waist of your gown. You didn’t trust your own voice yet, but as you didn’t feel anything other than the wild beating of your heart and the faint burning in your chest, you shook your head.

You could tell by the look in his eyes that Harwin wasn’t quite convinced as to whether he could believe you. But when abruptly he pulled you into his arms, you knew it did not matter.

The two of you, still kneeling on the forest floor, gripped one another more tightly than you ever had before as the adrenaline began to die off.

“How are you here?” you asked, your voice muffled by Harwin’s chest.

He placed a comforting hand on the back of your head, silently conveying that he had no intention of letting you go anywhere just yet. Not that you wanted to. “When you did not arrive a few days ago, as you expected to, I was worried. But when Lord Darklyn received troubling news from King’s Landing, I knew I had to ride out and find you at once. We’ve been riding for a day straight. By the looks of it, we arrived not a moment too soon.”

You buried your face in the front of Harwin’s breastplate, not daring to look anywhere else. You spared the last thought you could for the man lying only a few paces away. “I’ve killed him, haven’t I?”

Harwin’s arms around you tightened. Unlike before, the restriction meant safety, not danger. It meant comfort. “No.” He pressed a chaste but undoubtedly loving kiss to your hairline. “You defended yourself, My Love.”

You killed a man.

But that could be dwelled upon later. “What was the troubling news Lord Darklyn received from the capital? … Is Princess Rhaenyra well?”

Harwin pulled back slowly, reluctantly removing his arms from around you. He cupped both sides of your face in his hands, capturing your full and complete attention. Harwin looked uncertain; his expression was one of great conflict, and he even looked a bit pained.

“The King is dead.”

“My Lord, My Lady!”

Ser Alren, accompanied by most of your men and others who must have rode out with Harwin, drew near. As they approached, Harwin stood, and helped you to your own two feet.

“Are you alright?” Ser Alren asked. The blatant concern on his face was touching.

“We will be,” Harwin answered, sounding more confident than you suspected he truly felt at that moment. “How many-”

“We were outnumbered, My Lord… and we lost two of our own because of it. But we outmatched them in skill. Rest assured that these mute heathens paid for the lives of two good and honorable men with each and every one of their own. May the Father judge them justly, and the Stranger guide them.”

Two of your own men, who had protected you and your family, gone. You didn’t bother to ask Ser Alren who they might have been at that moment- you would find out soon enough, when you would have to write to their kin and inform them of the loss.

“We shall pay them their more than earned respects, once it is safe to do so,” Harwin avowed somberly. “... Did you say these brigands were mute?”

“Yes, attempting to get any information out of them would have been futile. They have no tongues.”

You and Harwin exchanged a wary look.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Ser Alren deposited something small into Harwin’s open palm. “Appears as though they were all bearing it…” He glanced behind him briefly. “Even these two.”

You stared at the small item in your husband’s hand dumbfoundedly.

“It looks to be a pin of some sort,” Ser Alren speculated. “... That’s a firefly, is it not?”

Harwin went still.

“Harwin,” you said to him in a hushed tone, pulling at his arm closest to you desperately. “We really need to talk-”

But Ser Alren pressed, “My Lord and My Lady, I’m afraid that’s not all we found.”

You and Harwin watched as Ser Alren withdrew two scrolls from his cloak. They were small, as though they had been intended for a raven. As Ser Alren handed them over to the two of you, he explained further, “Found these in one of their cloaks. They share the same seal, but we left them unbroken.”

Though you knew what you would find, your gut sank when you recognized the seal beneath your fingers. You looked up Harwin.

Your husband looked at the firefly pin in one hand, and a scroll with the malvales seal in the other.

When realization finally dawned upon Harwin, your heart broke on his behalf.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🖤 Feel free to let me know what you think! I'm so excited to get into the last few episodes. and for Harwin to contemplate how he's gonna get his revenge on Larys

#harwin strong #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #ser harwin strong #ser harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong x y/n #ser harwin strong x you #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong x you #hbo #ryan corr #hotd #got #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #harwin strong fanfic #harwin strong fanfiction #ser harwin strong fanfic #ser harwin strong fanfiction

[ao3feed-rhaewin]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaewin #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

[ao3feed-rhaenicent]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaenicent #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

[simpingland]

"A proper back" ☆ Harwin "breakbones" Strong x targ!reader

The protagonist is the young sister of Rhaenyra, they are on their angsty years so they dont get along (but i do love my one and true Black Queen...)

Ser Harwin helps her out and he's very cute about it.

Ser Harwin has always being there, and i mean always. As the first son of the Master in Laws, it was important that he followed his father everywhere. So did his younger brother Larys. So the Targaryen princesses grown up with them in every important feast and almost every month. Because Rhaenyra didn't love his young sister much, little Dany was often left out of the plan and her age gap with the Strongs made her feel totally ignored by the rest of the "kids". The people at court manteined their distant with the young girl because it was known that the future queen didn't hold much love for her sister, so better not to angry the princess. Poor Dany used to walk the Red Keep alone, have dinner alone, read alone and do everything she wanted, basically, because no soul care about her. The only crime commited by the young princess was to born. It was during her labor where the beloved queen Aemma died. The King had to choose between his wife or a possible heir to the iron throne. Daenerys, "the unborn" was called, because she was ripped of her moms belly. Rhaenyra only saw her moms killer when she saw her, king Viserys couldn't even speak to her properly, but did love her inmensly. But the kid was trouble. Always running around, breaking things, ripping dresses, offending lords...and the Strongs were always there to watch it. Ser Harwin has always found the young princess the most entertaining one of the Red Keep. She would often skip her lessons with the septa to visit the yard, where the young lords trained. Very often she insisted on being trained as well as the other lords. When she was denied and send back to her septa, she would argue if it was for her condition as a lady. Ser Harrold would politely explain to her that she couldn't because it would be possible she ended up breaking someones collarbone without even trying. Harwin always greeted her with a special smile for her. One night when he was on his way to a tabern, after a boring day at the Red Keep, a girl crush on his chest. She was running from something (or someone,judging by her hurry). He knew who she was, her violet eyes looked at him with panic, and he hold her arms.

"Ser Harwin, I have always wondered how your back look like. Mind if i take a look?"

She then freed herself from his grip, and he felt her hiding behind him. Before Harwin could answer, a peasant man approached them. The street was dark, only illuminated by a single torch. Dany had the hope of not being caught.

"Thank the goods, good ser...you have captured her. Now, let me take care of her"

Fuck, she had being caught.

"I'm afraid I'm going to take her to the King myself. No need to trouble yourself " said Harwin.

Double fuck, her father was going to hear about this.

"Oh, good ser, i can deal with her myself, indeed, i want to deal with her. It's been a long time since I ripped someone's tongue" the man got closer "i would enjoy seeing this cunt cry--"

Ser Harwin didn't even need his sword, a single hand pressed on the man's chest was enough to push him so hard on the wall that blood came out of his skull, he went silent.

"I said no"

The man disappeared, Harwin turned to the little blonde ball on his back.

"Should I let the King know about your night walks or can i trust you tell him, princess?"

"We shall not bother the King with this matters, what's this compared to war?" she blushed, maybe he didn't see it with this darkness, but she knew it and it bothered her.

"Alright, shall your father know?" He responded.

The way back home was a continuous plea from the princess, begging for Harwin's silence, with no positive responds, nor negatives either, he was definitely going to spill it, everybody saw Dany as a kid, an annoying one, she knew that for Harwin there was no difference.

"You must know, Ser Harwin, if I was putted a sword on my hips and a teacher to learn, the danger would be much less and my freedom much bigger" that was her try at healing her dignity.

"Good night, princess. Hope you rest well" he said, turning his back when she arrived at her room. A little laugh escaped his chest when he heard the princess closing her door in anger.

It was Dany's 16th name day and his father "gift" her with a feast. Many houses would be present for the event. Viserys did not mention any night walks to his daughter so Dany hoped to see Ser Harwin to express her gratitude, but she also feared that he had a chance to tell the king at the feast. A scold is a terrible way to end a name day. Her sister cruelly reminded her that this was more of an opportunity for the lords to show their benefits and wills to wed her. That made her uncomfortable in so many ways. So that day, the doors of the great hall opened numerous times to present the biggest houses, leaving the royal one the last. Daenerys, with a very special dress, made for her coming of age, was left behind the King, the queen Alicent and Rhaenyra. Before opening the doors, Alicent offered Dany a reassuring smile, the queen knew that little words were spoken to her by her family during this special day. Both girls were lonelier than people could imagine. The doors opened and everybody rised from their seat. Dany didn't wish to look at the people, she felt uncomfortable just walking down in that dress. She felt as if she was entering another world, a wicked one, and she was a new piece to play with. Closer to their table, the Strongs sitted, of course. Larys was whispering something to his brother, probably talking about her, because Ser Harwin was looking at her with no discretion. He smiled at her, but not like always, he gave her a sweet smile, softer, they both had a secret in common, that was that smile about. She owned him one, so she smiled back, a genuine one, a "thank you" type of smile.

A speech was given by the King, it was an awkward one but Viserys was a good monarch, the kind who knows how to entertain his public, so he kept it short and Dany knew that he would show her his love in many other ways, no speeches needed. Everybody tossted for her, even her sister gave her a little look of congratulation to her. But that was it. Music started, nobody really wanted to chat with her, if someone was interested, their words would have her name but the peoples eyes would be either on the princess Rhaenyra or the King, specially the King. Jewellery, dresses, horses, musical instruments, more jewellery, a few books (that was from her aunt Rhaenys, what an icon) and more jewellery. No proposal was really interesting, mostly were second sons, heirs of nothing, or old men looking for their fifth wife. She had a reputation, Dany knew that but she had never felt so ashamed of it before.

Most of the people were at the dancefloor the moment Ser Harwin decided to stand from his table. All night he had been looking at the young princess, his brother told him to pay attention to her looks.

"They let her show her collarbone" he pointed out "and her hair out of her face"

They were presenting her as an adult, that what his brother explained, and Harwin was just realising it. A woman was in front of him, bored and sad, but a beautiful woman now, always misunderstood and very underrated. His gift was perfect, and he went to give it to her.

"My princess, you never told me what you thought of my back when you finished wondering" said Harwin once he stood by her side. Dany look at him, hoping nobody heard that. She looked around, her father was chating laudly, Alicent was on another table and Rhaenyra was dancing. Daenerys smiled and offered the empty seat next to her.

"Very wide, i must say, a proper back for someone called "breakbones", you have my congratulations". He chucked, sitting on the chair. He offered a little wood box, he didn't put it over the table, so Daenerys gave him a suspicious look.

"I believe my family bought you a golden ring, so this gift is mine and I take responsibility for it, but please let it be beetwe us"

"So now we are even at keeping secrets?" She smirked, seeing Ser Harwin putting a fake exhausting expression, nodding. She opened the box carefully, trying to hide a big gasp. A dagger, the size of an eating knife, but sharp and pointy, quite beautiful, was resting inside the box. A leader string was attached, so she could hide it anywhere she wanted.

"You must know, Princess Daenerys, if you were to keep yourself safe on your quarters in the night time, and asked me for a protector during your travels, your danger would be much less and my peace much bigger" he said, mocking her.

She laughed out loud.

"You know that would never happen, Ser Harwin".

"I do know, thats what this is for".

She decided to do something, something she had always wanted to do, she gave him a kiss on the very corner of his lips. A soft kiss, Ser Harwin closed his eyes and smile at her when she separated.

"Would it be to much to ask if i wanted to learn how to use it?" She asked.

"Only if you grant me a dance, my princess"

They left to the dance floor, the box resting on Daenerys' chair.

#harwin strong #harwin breakbones #harwin x reader #harwin strong imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #harwin deserver so much better #honestly what a men he was probably a feminist #Harwin Strong x reader #harwin strong x oc #harwin strong x original female character

[simpingland]

Into the Dragonpit. // Ser Harwin Strong x Targaryen!oc

Part 2 of The Queen's horse with no name. But you can read this first too.

Harwin and Ela reunite and go on a mission. Ser Breakbones may be tough but when dragons appear, his princess will be there to save him.

Plus: Harwin holds a baby in this... and I realised way too late that Elaena and Helaena are sisters...I tried to be original, soz.

The Tournament can be part 3????

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ser Harwin arrived at the Red Keep along with his father, he'd been called a few days back and the King welcomed the rest of the family too, an interesting week was ahead with the big chances of a new born in the castle and the possible feasts organaiced in honor of that. He smiled when he identified Laps, resting in the yard, eating. Her owner was nowhere near. Harwin had yet to tell Lord Lyonel about his feeling for the princess. It was a serious proposal and he didn't want it to be rejected nor accepted without a good thought or meditation. Of course, he had thought about it ever since the hunt. He even dreamed about it, but feelings have a weird way to work. As the time passed, the lord had problems to remember Elaena's face. He was eager to see her. But he understood his position, the low chances he had, so he would be happy enough if all he had permission for was to protect her.

As if the Seven heard his secret wishes, the doors were opened and not only appeared the King himself to welcome them. Elaena walked by his side. As pretty as he remembered her, she had a conformable dress on, nothing like the beautiful gowns she wore on the camp, and also different from her riding suit. She smiled at Ser Lyonel, buy when she looked at him, she smiled differently, wider, sweeter. Greetings done, the parents entered the castle but Harwin was left univited to the council.

"I hope you don't have plans for today, Ser Harwin" smirked Elaena.

"I haven't got the time to arrange anything, my princess" he followed the Princess, who started her mission at the moment.

"Good, cuz were are going to see the little loves of my life" she softly dragged him by his arm. "The dragons".

Harwin Breakbones hid the panic on his eyes as well as he could, but something in the smirk on Ela told him that she was kind of enjoying it. She had explained the main goal of this. No dragon riding would be done, but molesting dragons' sleeps may be even more dangerous.

"My egg was picked by my father, he had so much trouble...you see, the shells usually reflect the color of the dragon inside" she explained.

"But Nyrax is black" he pointed.

"Exactly" she smiled. "My father thought that there would be no egg for me, and every true Targaryen must sleep on the crib with one. The hatching is another story. But when his men told him to give up the searching, Dreamfyre appeared. She is now a dragon without a rider, buy she was once rode by princess Rhaena, the "Queen of the West". Father said that she woke and lighted up the pit, letting him see the egg she just laid. No many times are the dragons the ones willing to let you warm their eggs for them".

"She knew you to were destined to fly together" Harwin felt soft for the princess little story. "You, Targaryens...you are all out of this world, I swear"

"Dragon's are not so terrifying, one just need to reach with confidence".

"Well, I like to stay closer to the ground, my princess". He stopped when they reached the gates. Elaena asked the servants and keepers to open it, and Harwin took a torch already lighten.

"What are you doing?" She asked when she saw him take it.

"I'm going with you, my princess".

She didn't stopped him, she loved his company and how willing he was to face the dragons, maybe he did it to look mainly, maybe because he was bored as hell, or maybe, just maybe, he was worried about her. The last one was the one she wished for. Poor Harwin, everyone was aware of the fact that she was the one protecting him inside there. It was incredibly dark, the steps were carefully walked, Harwin moved the torch following Elaena's directions. It smelled like shit, no one could deny it, but the animals skulls and enormous dragons were much more impressive. They didn't had to travel long before finding a pair.

"There's two, look!"

A silver one and a blue one. Which one would hatch? No one could know. But Elaena remembered Alicent and she packed the silver. She was taking it in her hands when Syrax woke up. It was Rhaenyra's dragon, so that complicated things. Syrax looked at the thieves and expressed her anger through a roar that almost made the torch's fire light off. Harwin was ready to run, buy never without the princess.

"I think you should leave it where it was, princess"

"No, she will understand". Elaena putted her hand slowly in front of the dragon. "Kostilus, syrax, ivestragī īlva mandia share zȳhon crib rūsīr aōha drōmon. īlon jāhor daor gaomagon ziry mirre ōdrikagon (Please, Syrax,let our sister share her crib with your egg. We will not do it any harm)."

The dragon hesitated, she roared again and Harwin truly feared for their lifes. Elaena did too but she holded the egg in one hand and pushed Ser Harwin aside. Syrax spitted a ball of fire in the man's direction, if it wasn't for the princess, he would had been caught. She protected herself by crouching down. When Syrax stopped, the dragon went back to sleep, as if nothing happened. When they opened their eyes, Harwin saw Elaena looking at him. She put her hands one the sides of his face.

"Are you okay, Ser Harwin?" She was trully worried.

"I am, my princess. Lets get out of here, please" he stood up with her help. One of the stones on the floor made a cut on Harwin's leg. She noticed the little limp so she putted his big arm over her shoulders, hurrying to get out. Once in the daylight again, she sat him down on a big rock.

"I'm so sorry, my Lord. I shouldn't had drag you. Does it hurt?" Regretted the girl, kneeling before him.

"Do not worry about it, Princess Elaena...this is nothing. A few cleans and all done...I should have stopped you on the first place"

"Well, you wouldn't be able to stopped me neither way...can I see the wound?"

By the time Harwin put his boot out to show his hurted knee, a maester appeared with the proper aid. It was a small but deep cut and the cares where more painful than what Harwin expected. He groaned, Elaena stopped looking and put herself beside him, holding his face, trying his best to reassure him, he did in fact calmed down. The princess felt guilt building on her entire chest. When the maester was done, he stood up and smiled at her.

"I swear to the Seven, you don't know how terribly sorry I am..." ser Harwin moved his head, not wanting to hear more apologise.

"There's nothing to feel sorry about, my princess. I'll survive" assured the lord.

The walk back to the Red Keep was a much silent one, Elaena couldn't be as cheerful after the scare they just had, but Harwin did try to keep it fun. It was now his turn to tell his own stories. He remembered all the fail adventures he had as a child.

"I once stole the sword of a boy, i just had my 8th name day. And this boy...he was a Tully. He was so tall, older but not wiser... he kept on mocking Harrenhal. He said it was the ugliest place on Westeros. "Shited instead of builded by the gods" he said".

" Oh, I think I know how this men is...second heir of Riverrun?" Asked Ela, invested in the tale.

"Yes, that one...he only spoke fairly about his sword...it wasn't even pretty, but it was useful, able to blind a men only with a quick move...I stole it. And I was determinated to melt it. But I decided to enjoy it before doing it. I was planning on let him know I found it, let him see the sword but throw it in the fire right before he could take it"

"That's harsh for a little kid..."

"I know, and I knew it too back then. But my mother stopped me. She saw me playing with it. And she could easily tell that it wasnt mine".

"She convinced you not to melt it?"

"No, but yes...she tricked me. I confessed my idea, she had that power over me. She just stared and I spilled everything. And she then told me to go ahead" Harwin saw the princess smile, clearly not believing it. "She said that it was a good revenge, but a lesson could be learn. "People put such a soul in objects, they glorify them instead of it's builders. If you put such an efford on a single piece of metal, the boy would still think that what we have or we don't have makes ourselfs valuable. But its not really about swords and castles, son, is about the person who owns it. So, if you want to make that boy cry, melt the sword, he will get another one soon enough, but your cruelty will be remembered. If you give it back to him, maybe you'll have a chance to impress him, to make him respect you"

"And you gave it back?"

"Of course, I asked if he would let me use it for a bit, and his father forced the boy to let me. I was a much better swordsman than him, a much dedicated one. So he kept the rest of his stay quiet. Harrenhal might have been ugly, but offending the future lord couldn't be beneficial. I hope it doesn't makes me sound pretentious, my princess".

"Speaking the truth doesn't make you pretentious, Ser Harwin. Its well known you have a reputation...my father calls you "the strongest men in the Seven Kingdoms ", although I hope it doesn't go to your head too much" she joked.

"My mother made sure of that already, my princess".

Ser Harwin also lost her mother long ago, but she didn't feel close enough to him to ask him about her mother. She wasn't trying to make him suffer so she may as well stop to give him such a harsh time in a single morning. They separated ways when Rhaenyra asked to inform her of something. She kissed him on the cheek, apologising one more time and Harwin got stock right there, feeling the lips on his cheek until she no longer was on sight. He walked to his father's chamber. He found him there, Larys too.

"Father, I must speak with you"

"Why are you covered in ashes, Harwin?" Asked Larys.

He didn't even notice, of course he had ashes, he had spend the morning on the Dragonspit, he had been thrown against the floor, but he had forgotten.

"I went with Princess Elaena to search for an egg...for her new sister...Father, we have to talk..."

"Indeed, we need. Son, the King just offered me something, and I hope it doesn't upset you" Ser Lyonel then handed him something, his son took it, it was the Hand of King's pin. "We'll be moving to the Red Keep, at least Larys and I"

As the future heir of Harrenhal, Ser Harwin was conflicted. It wasn't only about leaving his dear Harrenhal, it was more about losing his father's presence in the castle. He loved his father, always the wisest men in the room, he felt disorientated when he wasn't there, and Harwin still felt insecure about ruling alone, but leaving Harrenhal for such a long time wasn't a good option neither. But his father interrupted his thoughts, he hurry him for the dinner they were about to have with the royal family. A special one in honor of the new Hand.

Elaena bathed before his father could see her. If it wasn't for Rhaenyra pointing it out, she might have never seen the mess she made of herself. They had a quick argument about Syrax' actitude when they prepared the egg. She wanted to surprise Alicent. She learned about the new Hand of the King also by her sister.

"So...Ser Harwin is staying?" asked, and also wished, Ela.

"Well, I think one of them is staying in King's Landing. I hope it's the one you long for..." teased Nyra.

"Oh, shut up, I was just asking" she was blushing as well. When she ended the bath she put on the best dress for the occasion. Something a bit more special than casual, but she wanted to keep it simple. Gods...she felt stupid the moment she asked that to her maidens... But to have Harwin around would certainly be great. She felt treated as an equal, never mocked, with a true friend around. And she found odd the sweetness of such a manly man. She remembered him every time she rode Laps, and she wished for a parter who wasn't a personal guard for once. Not even Rhaenyra wanted to ride with her, not on a horse. He was also the most attractive men she had encountered, but she won't say that because she just expended too much time with older and boring men. But with Harwin, talks were easy, fluids and interestings.

Music sounded on the dinning room, the King already seated, Rhaenyra on his side, Alicent on the other, and the family Strong entered the room. They were about to eat when they realiced that the oldest princess was missing. Viserys was growing impatient and Rhaenyra, who didn't want to ruing the surprise, didn't come up with an argument to defend her and she didn't wanted too, she was hungry and the chicken was getting cold. Finally, the doors opened and they rised from the table to see Elaena. She looked beautiful and Harwin felt his heart beating fast, she carried a grin so big it barely fitted on her face.

"My apologise, my Lords" she talked to Ser Lyonel, and eyed his two sons before talking to Viserys, "but father, I have a surprise for the Queen".

Poor Alicent just had her second baby, and she looked tired but she thought that welcoming the new Hand would be seen as a nice gesture by the daughter of the last Hand. But she was upset, she was angry at Rhaenyra, and she could not talk about it. The baby also tired her. So when the surprise was announced, she was more confused than excited. The servants brought a hot pot, they opened to show the egg. Viserys smiled at the loving gesture her oldest made for her youngest.

"Look, Alicent, an egg for our little girl" said the King.

"We picked it up grey, in honor of your house color, Alicent" spoke the princess. The Queen then smiled, a Targaryen that thought of her as the mother of one, a true part of the family.

"Thank you, princess. Thank you too Rhaenyra...it's a lovely gesture" said Alicent.

"I wasn't involved, I'm afraid" admited Rhaenyra. She realized late, when Elaena's face dropped.

"Who picked up the egg with you then, Elaena?" Visarys became serious. The room when silent.

"It was me, Your Grace" confessed Harwin, looking at the King. "It was no bother".

"It's not about being bothering anyone, dear boy" he was still looking at his daughter. "It's about putting lives at risk. Elaena, did you ask for Harwin to enter the Dragonpit?".

Harwin wanted to speak but his father stopped him with a look, the King didn't want to hear him.

"Well,no...but I did not stopped him..." and he got hurt, that was on the tip of her tongue, but that could only make things worst.

"The maester was called during the meeting. Was it both of you he was aiding?" This time he did look at Harwin.

"It was just a cut, my King" he spoke.

"And the called the maester himself...Eleana, who in the Seven Kingdoms told you to drag him there? I can trust you with the dragons but they are dangerous creatures. Ser Harwin could be hurted or killed just by giving a wrong step. Did you think of that?".

"I know, father, and I do regret. I did apologise to him immediately. Lord Lyonel, I ask for your pardon too" she was stressed.

"You have it, princess. My king, this will not happen again. My son can promise you that" anwered the man, eyeing his oldest son.

They sitted and eated when the King started to eat. Poor Ela sat across from Harwin and she was to embarrassed to look at him. Before his father could talk, the boy spoke firmly.

"Your grace, the princess Elaena has shown me what truly makes Targaryens the powerful house it is...it's not only about the dragons...it's about your unique bond to them. Your daughter had a courage unlike most men have. And, if the now princess is willing to face a legendary dragon to honor a baby sister...one can only wonder what the future queen is willing to do to protect her people.

They went silent again, all staring at Harwin, the princess dared to rise her eyes at him, with a red face and a shy smile. She felt emotional for his hope in her and not many praised her for her actual achievements. The usual praises were dedicated to her dresses, sewings and looks. Viserys was moved too, a genuine show of loyalty to the future queen, who already had enemies around.

"I'm glad someone finally sees what I saw the day I named her my heir...a men your kind are the best to keep close while on the throne. You were raised by a great men and one can tell" the King toasted for the Strong and the dinner gain the celebrating vibe it deserved. Every once in a while, the princess and lord exchanged looks and neither Rhaenyra or Alicent missed one.

"I was thanking, Ser Lyonel, that a tournament would be a great way of celebrating the new princess" proposed Viserys.

"Well, my king, I see no harm in it. It's been long since you celebrated one. And it's cheaper than a hunt, and equally fun" agreed the hand. "So, is the princess as beautiful as the other princesses, your grace?"

"You haven't seen her? Maybe she would enjoy some music...I'll have her brought here" proposed Alicent, wishing to see her new baby once again. Aegon would be sleeping by now, no need to wake him.

One of the queen's ladies brought her in her arms. She was very small and the three blondes melted when she entered. She was just like them and something about her transmited calm and sweetness. She went from arms to arms. The eating was done but they keep on chatting. When Elaena was holding her, she saw Harwin sitting on her side, looking at the two sisters.

"There's something about this one that makes me love her so much..."she confessed in a whisper. "When Aegon was born, everyone was holding a breath, as if my biggest thread just gained a body. And that body in question was just a wet and crying blonde bundle. But this one...this one is special". The princess pushed his sister into Harwin's arm. He took it carefully. "I haven't told you, but your mother must have been an incredible woman...so smart".

"She was, my princess. Unfortunate it was Larys the one who inherited that part". He joked.

"Don't say that, Harwin". Did she just called him by his name? No "ser" around it? She did, but it was late to back out now. "You are smart...but in the best way, not in a cunning one... you are the loveliest man I've ever met. And the most valiant too, even when it becomes more of a dangerous factor" she was blushing, no doubt about it.

"I think you were too impressed with my controll of horses, my princess" he said, making the princess laugh.

The King was quite drunk, and he interrupted the conversation when he asked Alicent for the baby's name way too laudly.

"I haven't decided yet, husband. I will let you choose" Alice was just not having it.

"What about Elaena?" He said.

"You already have a daughter named Elaena" pointed the Hand. The princess was so puzzle she just stared at his father. Her sister also had too many cups of wine, she didn't noticed until she started to talk.

"Maybeee...she can be name after her older sister who brought her that beautiful egg...but to make it stand apart could be an "H" after the man who risked his life for the cause...". Yeah, she was drunk and Alicent too tired.

"Helaena...I like it..." decided the King. Everyone cheered at the name except the mother, the princess and Harwin, who looked at the princess hidding a grin.

She looked at him. "I wish I could say that tomorrow she'll have a different name but I'm pretty sure that we are going to be stuck with the same name for the rest of out lifes"

"At least I do feel flattered, not going to lie"

"You know, Ser Harwin?" She stared at him. He looked adorable with the baby in his arms, even more attractive than before, sweeter and soft. "Everything would be easier if you stayed in King's Landing...".

He smiled at her. If his queen requested it, he will do it, not second thoughts. "Of course I will, Elaena".

#harwin strong #harwin strong x original female character #harwin x reader #harwin strong x oc #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong #game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #ser harwin x reader #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x oc #asoiaf #harwin breakbones #harwin strong imagine #rip harwin

[genz420]

Beauty of Scars & Flowers - Chapter 3: The Spark of Love.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

It had taken some time to get used to the rancid smell that admits from Blackwater Bay, but Lyanna would happily deal with the smell if she got to spend some time with the lovely Princess Helaena.  The two girls had more in common than they had been expecting, and it seems that the Targaryen princesses get along rather well with the members of House Strong. 

Finding a match had proven harder than she thought it would be.  There were a few suitable men she could see herself spending the rest of her life with and having children with.  But for the most part, the men of the court were staying clear of her, no doubt the curse of her castle streaming them away.  One that stood out amongst the rest was Ser Alan Tarly, the first-born son of the current Lord of Horn Hill, so not only would he be the lord of his own home, but also Harrenhal and Lyanna would stand to a rather handsome husband that has a long history of sons and also becoming the lady of Horn Hill.  Alan had shown great interest in her, giving her flowers, and no doubt he would soon ask her uncle to begin the courting process formally.

But there was one man that, unfortunately, Lyanna could not get out of her mind.  Since the few words they had spoken to each other in the castle Godswood, Prince Aemond had secured a place in her mind.    She knows that her thoughts are improper and are something that she should get under control before it gets out of control, but she can not deny the quicking of her heart when she spots him in the halls or the throne hall.  Her hands become sweaty, and heat rises up her neck when she tries secretly to steal glances at him.  

Lyanna is fortunate that no one has spotted her doing so yet, but no doubt if they did, they would just chop it up to another lady of court fawning over the handsome prince.  

Lyanna and Helaena would often spend their free time outdoors, whether in the gardens open to the people of the court or even the royal gardens that Helaena would ramble on about.  The gardens had proven to be Lyanna's favourite place in Kings Landing so far, the smell of nature that remedies her of her home, of nature.  

The small and cozy seating area in the royal gardens is an excellent getaway for them both, for them to enjoy each other's company in silence or talk about the latest gossip that is making its way through the castle.  

“I heard the Lady Westerling swooned when Ser Randyll passed her in the hall today.  That she did so because she was trying to make Ser Jason jealous. After all, he has been negligent in courting her,” Lyanna informs Helaena as she watches the princess before her.  

No doubt, if Larys could see Lyanna now, he would scold her for being so relaxed in front of the princess.  Lyanna had made herself comfortable on the small couch, leaning back with her hands resting on her stomach.  

“I find it rather sweet, the dance of courting,” Helaena says, focusing more on the embroidery wheel and the firefly she is stitching.  “I wished that I could have gotten that, to have someone express interest in me like that,”

Helaena never got to experience a proper courtship; betrothed to her older brother Aegon and quickly married him.  She enjoys watching the soon-to-be Lords and Ladies of the Court as they steal quick glances at each other, wearing their soon-to-be partners' Houses' colours or even the latest fashion from their region.  

But the part the Helaena yarns for the most is the look that they have in their eyes.  Something that she had only seen from Aegon when he came to her chambers late at night after one too many cups of wine.  The look she does not know the name of but wishes oh so badly to experience herself. 

“If you want someone to give you flowers, My Princess, you could have asked.  I would happily fill your room with flowers of love and beauty,” Lyanna tells Helaena; it is true.  Lyanna would do anything to see a smile on her princess's face, and if filling her room with flowers would do it, then so be it.  

“Like Ser Tarly has done for you?” Helaena asks, noting how Lyanna more aggressively flattens the skirt of her dress.  The princess watches as Lyanna's eyebrows pull together and her lips form a small line, her eyes video of the spark that many Ladies have when mentioning their possible future husband. 

But just as quickly as Lyannas's face tensed, it relaxed.  

“Exactly,” Lyanna answers, smiling as her hands flatten her dress.   She must admit that it does feel nice to have someone interested in her, even if it was to gain the once-great Harrenhal.  Lyanna can also admit that talking to someone so freely is nice.

“Haven’t even been here for long, and already is there someone interested in your hand,” Helaena comments as she pulls her needle through her embroidery wheel.  “I was hoping that you would stay longer here,”

It was nice to have someone outside her small family to spend time with.  To have someone listen to her without judgement as she discussed her interest and have a response.  Sometimes Helaena even thinks that her own mother doesn’t truly enjoy her company, but Lyanna is different; she does not yet wish to part with her.  

“Ser Tarly and I have spoken a few words with each other, and I don’t even know if my uncle would approve of the match,” Lyanna tells Helaena, her words more directed towards herself than the princess.  

Lyanna's sole duty in this life is to produce the next generation of House Strong.    

“House Tarly is from the first men like my family, so that is a positive,” Lyanna tells Helaena, trying to sell the idea more to herself.  It was a good point and one she would bring up with her uncle if he disapproved of the match.  

“I think someone of Valyrian descent would be much better suited for you,” Helaena tells her, not noticing how Lyanna's head snaps towards her.

“Like Ser Vaemond Velaryon son?” She asks, unsure what Helaena means.  There are only two houses she would even consider marrying that came from Valyrian descent. Her house was already a strong ally of house Targaryen, leaving only house Velaryon.  

Helaena doesn’t answer Lyanna, looking away from her stitch and behind Lyanna, standing as straight as her needle is Aemond, his one eye trained on the back of Lyanna's head.  The lady, unaware of Aemond, waiting for Helaena to answer, but once she realises that something behind her has captured her friend's attention, she turns around to see what it is.  

Lyanna has never stood up from a seated position so fast.  Her mind races with everything that she had previously been doing, if the prince had heard their conversation, and if he did, how much had he heard.  It was in the princess's every right to be in these gardens, these were the royal gardens, and Helaena had assured her that it would be okay that they would keep company there.  

Aemond had been there long, only catching the end of the conversation between his sister and Lyanna; he must admit that he is rather curious about what they had been discussing beforehand.  

He had been told that Helaena was in the gardens, and after stopping by the Godswood, he thought he might spend some time with her.  Aemond had not been expecting Lyanna to be keeping his sister company, even if his mother had mentioned that the two were spending time together. If he had known that he would be seeing Lyanna today, he would have brought a book that he had found in the library for her.  

Ever since the two had made company together, he began to notice Lyanna more and more.  Whenever attending court; he would notice as she takes small glances at him, or how she would potentially wait and listen to other ladies of the court, or whenever she walked with her uncle; her steps would be slower than her usual pace.  Aemond blames the soft yellow dresses she would wear; of course, she would stick out amongst the Green and Targaryen Reds and Blacks crowd.  But Aemond still notices her when she wears the few darker shades of dresses she owns.  

“Brother, please sit,” Helaena tells Aemond, her attention going back to her work as Lyanna bows her head down to Helaena and Aemond.  

Lyanna is more than happy to leave the prince and princess alone, thinking she might inform her uncle of the news of a possible suitor and future betrothment.  The fact that she doesn’t seem to be in control of her thoughts when around the prince is also a factor in her eagerness to leave. 

“My Lady Strong, no one has asked you to leave,” Aemond stops Lyanna as he sits on the bench she was sitting on. “Sit,”

The tone is commanding, and Lyanna knows she should listen to the prince before he has to repeat himself.  She highly doubts her gods could save her from the flames of the mighty Vhagar.  

“I just thought that I would leave you two.  I wouldn’t want to intrude, My Prince,” Lyanna tells Aemond, her hands folded together in front of her.  Everything she had learned about proper adequate is running through her head, and she can’t help but silently pray that she does nothing to upset the prince before her. 

Aemond keeps his gaze on Lyanna.  Today, her hair was pulled back into a bun with framing strands.  A more Southern style and the other ladies of the court were starting to influence her fashion choices.  Aemond can’t help but wonder if she will soon wear Hightower Green like many other ladies or if her beautiful yellow dresses will continue to bless his day.  

“I am the one intruding; I simply wish to enjoy the company of you two,” Aemond tells Lyanna, his hand motioning to the spot she was once in. 

Lyanna nods and brushes past Aemonds legs, sitting down, but unlike before, she is not relaxed.  Her back is straight, her hands folded in her lap as she holds her head high.   She can’t help but feel like prey under Aemond's gaze, like if she makes any slight movement, he will snap.  

But Lyanna couldn’t be further from the truth; yes, Aemond's gaze is intense as he takes note of the lady sitting beside him, his thoughts consumed with what Lyanna put into her bath water to make her smell so good.  

 “We were talking about Ser Alan Tarly,” Helaena tells her brother, not noticing Lyanns pleading eyes, not to mention what they had been previously talking about.  “He has begun to court Lyanna,”

Aemond isn’t surprised to hear about Ser Alan's intentions. Every new lady of the court gets greeted by Ser Alan.  But this time, he can’t help but wonder if this lady would be different if Ser Alan had also been taken with the beauty of Lyanna. 

“Flowers are a common gift, and they don’t mean that we have started to court each other,” Lyanna says, gently rubbing against the stitchwork on her dress.  She doesn’t know why she is trying to justify that Ser Alan and her are not courting; even if these were the beginning steps, she feels the need to deny any such relationship in the prince's presence.  

“Not just any flowers, Dusty Roses with Pink Lilies.  Tell me, what do they mean again?” Helaena asks her friend, not caring to take note that Aemond has looked away from Lyanna and towards her.  

“Dusty roses can represent affection, and lilies have many meanings that change with the colour.  But pink lilies are often associated with love,” Lyanna informs Aemond, Helaena nodding with her words.   “But there are so many different meanings, so who knows what his true meanings are,”

“He has also asked her to accompany him to the Kingswood,” Helaena tells Aemond, not caring that such things were said to her in confidence.  

“An invitation that I will be turning down,” Lyanna reminds Helaena, not daring to look to the prince at her side.  

“Why?” Helaena asks, setting down her work as she looks at Lyanna.  

“There is no one to escort us, my uncle wouldn’t be able to keep up with us, and I don’t think he will allow anyone else to chaperone us,” Lyanna answers; she knows that Larys trusts few in the Keep and would not want her reputation to be put into question.  

“Ser Tarly's sword fighting skills match that of a Kraven,” Aemond's voice sharply contrasts Lyannas and Helaenas.  His sentence is rushed, as if he didn’t get them out fast enough, then they would harm him.  

Both Helaena and Lyanna look towards the prince, Lyanna with a confused face as to why the prince would be insulting a knight, and Helaena is fascinated with the sourness in Aemonds voice. 

“I thought he did very well in the last tourney,” Helaena says before returning to her stitch work.

“A tourney isn’t a good judge of a man's skill,” Aemond responds; he had seen Ser Alan Tarly train many times in the training yard, and he can’t help but wonder how such an unskilled fighter could start to court the likes of Lyanna.  

“So what is it? Should I hire someone to fight him in the street, My Prince?” Lyanna asks with a smile as she tries to imagine Ser Alan fighting a hired sword in Flea Bottom. 

Aemond looks to Lyanna; any tension there when she first sat down is gone as she had her conversation with his sister, and now a smile graced her freckled face, and her shoulders were no longer tensed than they were when she first sat down.  Part of Aemond had thought he was wrong about Lyanna, that she, like many others, thought his scarred face was an ugly sight and made her scared.  But for many, just being in the presence of two royals that made her slightly worried.   

“Or you could accompany me to the training yard, and I can show you his true lack of skill,” Aemond offers, and Lyanna can’t help but drop her smile.  

“A tempting offer, but I should return to my uncle,” Lyanna informs Aemond as she stands up, bowing her head to the siblings. “My Princess, My Prince,”

Lyanna is much faster leaving this time, leaving Aemond no time to tell her to stay and for them to continue their conversation.  All the one-eyed prince can do is watch as the soon-to-be Lady of Harrenhal quickly leaves the scene.  Perphase, he should not have been so formal with her or insulted Ser Tarly.  

But he can change nothing now. Just wait for the two of them to have another moment together so that he might be able to apologise for his words and attitude.  He could even chase after her now, but maybe enjoying the company of his favourite sister would change his mood.

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@sahvlren @snh96

#prince aegon #aemond targaryen #aemond #helaena targaryen #aemond one eye #Aemond the Kinslayer #the beauty in scars #house of the dragon #House of the Dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond #helaena the dreamer #hotd #house targaryen #hotd x reader #house strong #aemond x strong!oc #harwin strong #aemond x original character #aemond x original female character #harwin strong daughter #lyanna strong #Aemond x OC #Aemond x fem!oc #fem!oc #princess helaena #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond fanfic #aemond stannies

[tarantinolovesmyfeet]

“Hmm…I wonder what would you do without me?” Nymeria had a teasing smiling on her face as she was mounted on starfyre.

“We don’t speak about this to anyone” harwin was smiling under his stern gaze pulling himself out of the mud he tripped into.

“We’ll how else will we explain you muddy?” She said slow and slight tease to her words. She dismounted off of her stallion standing close to Harwin.

“Certainly not the way you’re thinking.” He smile his eyes shining bright, dazzling in happiness

“Oh?”

Was all she said as she pushed him, she knew harwin went down on his own accord because her strength would never take him down and she was happy he played along. She smirked again now with her through running wild jumped into the mud with him and he laughed loudly pulling her petite body into his.

“What ever will the ladies and court say?” He teased her as he pulled her in close, feeling her chest on his and her fingers twirled into his curls.

“I’m sure they will say we had a rump, and I am indeed a wild one.” She rolled her eyes over as he smiled down at her.

“We’ll you are wild but not for what they mean.” He smiled cupping her cup both not caring about the mud all over them. “You sparked a fire in this court, and I couldn’t be happier to see you set it ablaze.”

“I thought that was the delight of the realm.” She watched him as he looked down to her lips.

“For them maybe but for me it’s always you. You set a fever in my heart, I crave to touch you to taste you. I dream of you and pray that I see you again in the morning, that you could give me chance to be your husband.” He said so freely causing Nymeria eyes to widen.

“You wish to me my husband? Not your play thing?”

“You would never be my play thing, I want you as my wife. I need you with me, and I fear I said too much. I fear you don’t-“

“Oh harwin, but I do.”

Nymeria didn’t give him a chance to react as she rushed to kiss him. His eyebrows raised but he pulled her in closer in a second of her lips to him and her hands movi mg deeply into his scalp holding him closer. She needed him wanted more, and he felt the same, she could feel him. He opened his mouth enough to let his tongue brush against her lips and she allowed him in. It was like liquid fire into her blood, she wanted more, as she now wrapped her legs around him, with to no fight he rolled on his back granting her access to straddle him.

She knew if anyone saw them she would be deemed improper. He would have to wed another but she couldn’t stop it, she wanted him, she wanted to claim him, wanted him to be hers. She needed it, and she could feel him desperate as his hands slowly worked their way from her hips to her breast. It was wonderful and too much.

He gasped pulling away and holding her back. “We can’t, we have to be proper”

“Fuck being proper” she said trying to move in to kiss him and he chuckled.

“I love it when you speak dirty.” He teased “my love we can’t” he said looking over at her and her eyes full of want, glossy and needy. Her lips pillowy and so delicious he can go for another.

But he can’t.

“We can’t, we have to do it the proper way. So they can’t say anything about you, I will protect you with everything I have, and this is one way of protection.”

She pouted over at him as he laughed. She knew he was right.

And she hated when he was right

#harwin strong fanfic #harwin x nymeria #harwin x original female character #just a snippet #but 🤷🏽‍♀️

[ao3feed-rhaewin]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaewin #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

[ao3feed-rhaewin]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaewin #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd

[ao3feed-rhaewin]

#ao3feed #fanfic #rhaewin #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd