IMMORTAL | SER HARWIN STRONG | ON HOLD

eleven.

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111 A.C

WHEN VISERYS TARGARYEN WAS CROWNED KING MANY HAD QUESTIONED HIS DECISION TO INSTALL HIS SISTER, A GIRL OF MERELY NINETEEN SUMMERS, AS HIS MISTRESS OF WHISPERERS. Few saw the girl's potential, few saw how the servants of the Red Keep flocked to the girl's side and alieved themselves of the secrets they'd heard whilst their betters disregarded their presence. Baela Alysanne Targaryen held the adoration of the small folk and the great lords alike, and soon there was not a single mutter that escaped her ears.

Those who doubted the girl's capabilities were quickly silenced as she surpassed all expectations.

Now, as a woman of twenty-seven summers, she lived up to the title far better than any could've anticipated. Slipping through Maegor's passages with practised ease, like a wraith in the night, Baela Targaryen sought out the object of her affection, a great many plans unfurling within the confines of her mind as Rhea Royce's news hung heavy overhead. It marked a turning point in Baela's life and she wanted- no, needed him at her side, willingly for she would not entrap him as Viserys had entrapped Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce.

Emerging silently into the personal chambers of Harwin Strong, Baela stood as the very image of the shadows that so often whispered to her. Her lilac eyes were quick to find the man she sought, his back turned toward her and unaware that he was no longer alone. She watched soundlessly as he ran a hand down his face, squaring his shoulders in a bid to rid them of their tension before he turned toward his bed, a bed she stood beside.

Their eyes met, his dark hues a deep contrast to the lighter tones of her own eyes, surprise marring his handsome features as he took a lone, unsure step towards her.

"Princess," He breathed out, almost as if he thought her to be a figment of his imagination, a hallucination of what his heart wanted most and yet believed incapable of having.

"Harwin," His name was little more than a tender whisper and yet he heard her as clearly as if she'd screamed it from the Keep's highest tower. She was no figment conjured by his mind.

He chanced a few more steps, stopping at the foot of his bed, tantalizingly close and yet far enough away that should they be found and the gods were merciful it would be enough to convince others that nothing untoward had occurred. "I thought you were still in the Vale."

"There are things I must see to before the tourney on the morrow," Despite the small smile she forced upon her lips, it was evident in the way her hands fidgeted with the hem of her sleeves that something was troubling her. Why else would the princess be in his chambers, how she'd gotten in still a mystery to him, in the dead of night, if not because something pertaining to him was troubling her?

Harwin nodded slowly, silently urging the woman who held his heart in her palms to go on. If he could carry her burdens in her stead, he would do so in a heartbeat. If he could take her troubles, remove their claws from her delicate flesh and keep them at bay, there would be no hesitation.

Harwin Strong would do anything to see Baela Targaryen smile once more.

"In two days Viserys expects me to have made my own match or one shall be made for me," The thought of her married off to some lord who only coveted her for her title had bile threatening to rise within the confines of his throat. "I intend for that match to be you, my dearest Harwin, but I will not shackle you to myself. I will not take your choice from you."

His breath faltered, lungs seizing momentarily as he silently contemplated the likelihood that he had misheard her. Baela Targaryen wanted him, him of all people over the many lords that fell at her feet. If this was simply some twisted dream he never wanted to awake from it.

"There is something however that I cannot tell you of, not yet at least, that may very well destroy any chance that you feel for me as I feel for you," Her words wavered ever so slightly as she fought to remain stoic. Harwin dared to take another step closer.

"Nothing could dissuade me from loving you."

His words hung heavy in the air, a single tear cutting its way down her cheek and with it any resolve he had to keep his distance crumbled. Closing the space between them, Harwin reached up with calloused fingers and swiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb, his palm lifting to cup the Princess' cheek in a tender embrace. As she leaned into his touch he knew there was no other who could hold his affections the way Baela Targaryen did.

"Could..." Her words caught in her throat. What she was about to say could very well turn his love away, could very well tear her heart from within her chest, crush it within the hands that had so gently cradled it for so long. "Could you ever love another's child as if it were your own?"

Another tear escaped the prison of her eye, another swipe of Harwin's thumb brushed it away before it could stain her cheek once more.

A heavy silence hung over them as he weighed her words in his mind. Any number of scenarios burst forth as his mind battled to explain why she would ever feel the need to ask such a thing of him but no matter what his mind conjured he found himself with only one answer. Despite whatever circumstance forced that question through her lips, the answer always remained the same.

"If it meant being by your side, I would love every orphan in Fleabottom."

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Beth's notes:

They're so in love it physically hurts 😩

Also, careful what you wish for Harwin because Baela would deadass take in every child she meets if she could lmao

The tourney's coming in the next couple chapters and I'm not ready for the pain I'm about to put my bby Baela through.

Thanks for reading!