Growing Strong ᯽~Ser Harwin Strong~᯽

Strength (Part 2/2)

Deft hands untied the laces of your dress later in the evening.

You sighed from the immediate relief and leaned backwards calmly. As your head came to rest on Harwin's broad chest, you closed your eyes and smiled in contentment.

Harwin chuckled amusedly at your antics. "Perhaps we should have retired sooner, My Love."

The merriment of the family dinner continued well into the night. After supper had concluded, Lord Lyonel called for some musicians, which resulted in several singers and lute players providing a few additional hours of entertainment. Only when Derrik and Selwin started to nod off at the table and your own eyes began to feel heavy did you dare to suggest that it was time to retreat to your respective chambers. The Lord Hand tipped the troubadours generously, and everyone retired. The high spirits and mirth elated by the wine shared over dinner was still fresh on everyone's minds as they departed from the dining hall.

By now, your sons were most likely fast asleep in their own beds.

You had dismissed your handmaiden for the evening, opting for a quiet night alone with your husband instead. Like your sons, the clutches of sleep were calling to you, but now, as Harwin's hands skimmed across your back in feather light touches, your mind kept drifting to that of another, more tempting, venture.

"That was quite an eventful dinner this evening," Harwin commented nonchalantly, seemingly unaware of the effects he had upon you.

You opened your eyes and stood straight once more. The pair of you stood in front of a mirror in your shared chambers. You watched him dutifully as his eyes narrowed at your as he concentrated on his efforts.

"That was quite the toast you made as well, Dearest."

The subject of Princess Rhaenyra, and the Princes, was one seldom addressed between you over the past month. It was almost as though you were mutually afraid of shattering the newfound reverie that life at Harrenhal had come to provide. But Harwin's offhanded suggestion to the topic during the niceties of the evening meal left you wondering what his intent had been.

"My father was in a good mood this evening," Harwin prefaced, his focus still on the work that his hands were carrying out. "But... He is still disappointed in me."

As you watched your husband's crestfallen look in the mirror, your heart ached on his behalf.

"I am not a fool. I did not think he would simply forget..." Harwin admitted defeatedly. "But I had hoped, if I worked hard enough, and if I proved how dedicated I am to learning about all of the responsibilities and duties of the family seat and title, I might have given my father something else to focus on instead."

You felt sympathy for Harwin. How could you not? Just as you had carried shame that was not yours to bear, Harwin had been forced to shoulder disappointment from Lord Lyonel. Disappointment that Harwin had not, at least not truly, warranted.

But there was little that could be done about it, for reasons that both of you had delved deeply many, many times before.

You turned away from the mirror slowly. Abandoning his work, Harwin's hands fell to his sides, and he watched you somewhat apprehensively, as though fearing he had done or said something to offend.

"You are correct," you agreed, earning a somewhat surprised reaction from your husband. "Your father will not forget the 'truth' that he believes in. But he will return to King's Landing soon, and we will remain here. He will take that shadow of disapproval with him, and you shall feel free of this burden soon, Dearest."

A small kindness. But, given the circumstances, it was the only one that could be offered. Harwin nodded understandingly.

"Now... are we done speaking of your father?" you pivoted then, your tone light and teasing. You placed your hands on Harwin's chest, and your fingers settled dangerously close to the buttons of his doublet. "I wish to speak of something else."