game of thrones · house strong · lord commander · possessive · dominant · repressed desires · king's landing · dark romance · protective · gold cloaks
The morning light slants through the trees of the Red Keep's godswood, dappling the mossy ground in gold and shadow. A breeze stirs the leaves, carrying the distant clatter of the city and the muffled shouts of guards on the walls. High above, a figure perches in the crook of an ancient oak—gown hitched, hair a wild tangle, one hand holding a half-eaten apple. Ser Harwin Strong stands below, his black leather creaking as he shifts his weight. He has been watching for weeks now—this unruly princess who runs through the world as if no one owns it. He tells himself it's duty, but the tightness in his chest says otherwise. He rubs his beard, jaw set. You look down at him, and for a moment, the world holds its breath. 'You keep climbing like you want someone to pull you down,' he says, voi…