Chapter Text
"I cannot believe you tried a cup and funnel." Harwin's voice was full of amusement as he watched the two sulk.
Laenor only groaned from where he was sprawled on the couch in Rhaenyra's chambers, his arm thrown across his eyes. The princess herself was curled up on a chair across the table, an open book in her lap.
"Yes, well, we've grown desperate." She sighed, turning the page, "It's been three months and rumors have already begun that either I'm barren or Laenor is impotent."
"I am very potent." Laenor jerked up from where he lay on the couch and pointed a finger at Harwin as if daring him to believe the rumors, "Only...in theory."
Harwin chuckled, the deep sound making Laenor flush red. He gathered two goblets and a bottle of wine imported from Highgarden, pouring a generous amount into each. Two sets of eyes followed his every move as he approached, handing a glass to Rhaenyra and then to her husband.
"You both look like you sorely need it." He grinned, "And I have no doubt of your...potency, Ser Laenor. This is simply almost as bad as the turkey baster."
The royal couple groaned as one, Rhaenrya sending her newly sworn shield a pointed look, "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again?"
"We did." Laenor said quickly, "We definitely did. You know, Ser Harwin, if you aren't willing to help, don't make fun of us."
Harwin blinked, "Who said I wasn't willing?"
Both Rhaenyra and Laenor froze, glancing at the towering man in confusion before looking back at each other.
"Pardon?" Rhaenyra spoke first, "What do you mean, Ser Harwin?"
"That is to say, you're both very..." The knight made a vague gesture with his hand for the two to interpret, "You know?"
Laenor laughed, bordering on unhinged, "Say, Breakbones, how do you feel about roast duck and goose?"
He very gracefully dodged the pillow Rhaenyra threw across the room. She then stood, setting her goblet on the table as she approached Harwin with calculating eyes.
Laenor's laughter in the background was quickly stifled, which Harwin knew pained her. She'd expressed many times the wish to see Laenor smile again while Harwin stood watch over the door of her solar. He had taken the death of Joffrey Lonmouth, who Harwin suspected had been much more than a friend to Laenor, very hard. Even now the grief lingered in his eyes.
Despite the fact that they weren't, and never would be for simple virtue of orientation, romantically involved, Rhaenyra and Laenor had become the best of friends.
They also cut a striking image together, for the record. They were both beautiful in a way Harwin supposed could be a credit to their Valyrian blood. Laenor's locs were pure white and Rhaenyra's hair fell in soft, silver-blond waves. His eyes were a dark purple, while hers were a soft lilac; his skin a shade of umber, hers delicate porcelain.
Both beautiful. Both dangerous. Dragonriders of the blood of Old Valyria. For a moment, standing pinned beneath the weight of the princess's gaze, he wondered if he bit off more than he could chew. Then her hand rose, her thumb sweeping across his chin and running her fingers across his bearded jaw, and he quickly realized he didn't give a fuck. Criston Cole had told Rhaenyra he didn't want to be her whore, she had said that much herself, and his betrayal had broken her heart.
Harwin on the other hand? He would be more than happy to fill that cunt's role. To Rhaenyra, and to Laenor for that matter, should they both wish it.
"Alright." She whispered, before repeating it louder, "Alright. Laenor, if you don't mind-?"
She cut herself off as she looked back at her husband, seeing the pillow Laenor had suspiciously thrown over his lap to cover his crotch.
"Seriously?" She raised an eyebrow.
Laenor sputtered, "Come on, Rhae, have you seen the man?"
"Well, you're about to see a lot more of him. Harwin, if you think you can make this work, please follow us to my chambers."
Harwin made it work. Gods, did he make it work.
Laenor had his doubts, of course, as he stripped in Rhaenyra’s chambers once more. She was beautiful, from an aesthetic viewpoint, and most of all she was kind to him. He would go so far as to say she was his best friend.
Platonic soulmates, if you will.
Unfortunately, this set of platonic soulmates had to have a child together. If not, things would turn up with their heads on the chopping block. It terrified Laenor, true, but most of all he knew he couldn’t do that to Rhaenyra. So they tried literally everything to achieve an heir and usually broke into fits of laughter before the deed was done.
Now, though, Laenor was not laughing.
Ser Harwin Strong, dubbed Breakbones, certainly lived up to his name. His skin was glowing under the soft lighting, the muscles of his back moving in a way that had heat pooling in Laenor's belly as the man took his shirt off. He must've felt eyes upon him for he turned slightly, giving a roguish grin that almost made Laenor whimper.
He hadn't touched anyone besides Rhaenyra since Joffrey's death. He couldn't bear the grief at first, and then his time was solely consumed by trying to figure out how to put a babe in her belly when he could barely get hard. So sue him, he was more than a little eager.
Rhaenyra swept into the room after locking the door, sliding her dress from her shoulders in a smooth movement. Harwin's eyes traced the lines of her breast and waist as he undid his trousers and Laenor nearly swallowed his tongue whole.
He was...big. Certainly bigger than Laenor had ever taken, and from the looks of her wide eyes, Rhaenyra was thinking something similar.
"So..." Laenor drew the word out, "Am I just watching? Don't get me wrong, I like a little voyeurism as much as the next person, but I could also wait outside."
Harwin snorted, "And have your first child potentially born with dark hair and eyes? No. I'll take you as you take her."
Was he weak in the knees? Yes. Very much so.
The three of them awkwardly clambered onto Rhaenyra's bed, more than large enough for them all, and Laenor dutifully retrieved the oil and began to coat his fingers when a hand stopped him. Harwin took the bottle, resting himself above Laenor with one hand keeping him propped up and a knee between Laenor's bare thighs.
"I'd prefer to do that if you don't mind." Harwin's voice was rough, hot breath fanning over the Velaryon's neck in a way that made him feel like he'd been doused in fire.
"No, no." Laenor practically squeaked, "Not at all. Please, feel free."
He heard Rhaenyra chuckle beside them and gracefully ignored it. He'd like to see her be dignified in the face of this man's advances.
What followed was potentially one of the best sexual experiences of his life and it hadn't even involved a cock. Harwin's fingers were large yet dexterous, finding that place immediately in Laenor that had him seeing stars. He gasped, clinging to the broad shoulders as he watched Harwin's other hand reach across and find Rhaenyra. A soft stroke had her gasping before he rubbed gentle circles into her, and soon her head was thrown back and her skin glistening with sweat.
How could one man have that much power in his fingers? It baffled Laenor.
Harwin pulled away right as he teetered on the edge, giving him a sympathetic smile as Laenor groaned in frustration. He turned his full attention to Rhaenyra, dipping his head down close to her core in a move that obviously confused both Rhaenyra and Laenor. What would he be-?
"Oh!" Rhaenyra gasped loudly as if the air had been punched clean out of her, "Gods, oh, fuck-!"
He was using his tongue. Laenor felt heat rush to his face as he imagined that mouth on himself, his hand reaching down to his own weeping shaft.
A large hand stopped him, and his wide eyes found Harwin's as the man smirked his way, "Don't. Not yet."
Fuck, why was that attractive?
Harwin took Rhaenyra past her peak, leaving her trembling and her chest heaving. Harwin uncapped the oil once more, spreading a generous amount over himself and then also Laenor.
"Tell me if you feel any discomfort." Harwin reached out, brushing a finger over Laenor's lip before turning a tucking a lock of Rhaenyra's hair behind her ear, "You as well, my princess."
She groaned once more at the title, pressing her thighs together. Laenor could very much commiserate.
The knight positioned Laenor in the middle, kneeling above Rhaenyra who was sprawled out on the mattress. Behind him, Harwin's large hands found his hips.
"At your leave, princess." Harwin smirked down at her.
She rolled her eyes, yanking Laenor down, "Let's get on with it."
He entered Rhaenyra, and then Harwin took him from behind. It stung at first, as he hadn't taken a man in quite some time and never one so large as Breakbones, but the pain quickly dissipated when Harwin snapped his hips back at Laenor's nod and entered him deeply.
He nailed the spot head-on, which had Laenor's head spinning and him practically falling down on top of his wife. Rhaenyra's laugh turned into a moan as Harwin's thrust forced Laenor deeper into her, her teeth clamping down on her lip harsh enough to draw blood.
One of Harwin's hands reached down to her bare chest around Laenor, rubbing her nipple between his pointer and thumb as he leaned down to suck a mark onto Laenor's neck.
Embarrassingly enough, Laenor hardly lasted another five minutes. He finished, followed shortly by Ser Harwin who then brought Rhaenyra to finish with his fingers. They all collapsed, the only sound in the afterglow being the short gasps of air that escaped the three.
Harwin lay in the middle, one arm wrapped around each of his lovers. Rhaenyra's hair, which had already come loose from her braid, pooled around her head like a halo as she used Harwin as a pillow. Laenor followed suit, burying his head in the man's firm chest. He locked eyes with Rhaenyra, unable to help the laugh that escaped. Her lips trembled, trying to hold back, but she was unsuccessful.
"It's generally not a good sign when your bed partners laugh afterward," Harwin said drolly, a lazy grin tugging his lips up.
"You did well, Ser Harwin." Rhaenyra reached up, tugging his chin down so she could kiss him on the mouth, "Very well."
Her sworn shield blinked, his eyes wide before Laenor also made a grab at his face and kissed him just as firmly.
"I must agree." Laenor grinned, "Ser Harwin, you're quite welcome in our marital bed anytime."