❈ 𝕱𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄 ࿐·✩ ❜
LET THE LIGHT IN.

ꗃ⠀﹕summary ✩ clarisse hightower is now married to harwin strong. now it's time for private consumption. when she gets ready for bed she does not expect rhaenyra to be there to help make her ready.

ꗃ⠀﹕𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭/𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 ✩ pre season 1

ꗃ⠀﹕𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬(𝐬) ✩rhaenyra targaryen 𝒙 female hightower!oc 𝒙 harwin strong, mentions of daemon targaryen.

ꗃ⠀﹕. 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 ✩ phoebe tonkin

ꗃ⠀﹕𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✩ NFSW++, dirty talk, rhaenyra is a bit dark, threesome, possessiveness, fingering ( F receiving ), lesbian sex, implications of homophobia, oral and vaginal sex, swearing

ꗃ⠀﹕𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ✩

The wedding between Clarisse Hightower and Harwin Strong was a grand affair, a rare moment of happiness following the tragic death of Ser Laenor Velaryon's lover, Joffrey. They married shortly after the mourning period, though the shadow of loss still lingered.

As Clarisse sat at her vanity, her maid gently removed the hairpins and wedding dress. Now in her nightgown, Clarisse's long hair was carefully brushed by the maid. Her new chambers were spacious, a gift from King Viserys I, who treated her like a second daughter, and Rhaenyra, who insisted that her dear friend deserved the best.

A sudden noise made Clarisse turn in alarm, only to see a section of the wall open, revealing Rhaenyra, still in the gown she wore at the wedding.

"Nyra, my love!" Clarisse's fear vanished at the sight of Rhaenyra. She quickly rose from her seat, meeting the Princess halfway. Rhaenyra smiled as she wrapped her arms around Clarisse, pulling her into a desperate, passionate kiss. Throughout the wedding feast, the two lovers had exchanged glances, their longing for each other unmistakable, even as they fulfilled their duties.

The world they lived in would never accept their relationship.

Breaking away from the kiss, Clarisse panted slightly, staring at Rhaenyra with curiosity. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, but Harwin will be here any second—"

"He already knows I'm here, my sweet," Rhaenyra replied, brushing Clarisse's hair aside to place a kiss on her cheek, her violet eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Clarisse let out a surprised yelp as Rhaenyra's hands slid under her thighs, lifting her effortlessly. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around the Princess and clung to her shoulders. "Rhaenyra!" she exclaimed, startled by the strength of her lover.

"The three of us agreed, remember? To keep our relationship blossoming in secret," Rhaenyra reminded her, setting Clarisse gently on the bed. Clarisse's head rested on the pillows, her gaze locked on Rhaenyra.

"I came to prepare you, sweetling," Rhaenyra cooed, a smirk playing on her lips.

Clarisse raised an eyebrow. "I don't need preparing; he's been with me before."

Rhaenyra's laughter was sharp as she grasped Clarisse's throat lightly, making the Hightower woman gasp. "I came here because this is our wedding night too. Harwin Strong may be a worthy husband, but—"

"My heart belongs to you, Rhaenyra," Clarisse confessed earnestly. "It's all for you."

"Yes," Rhaenyra's eyes glinted, "that's right, my love. He is nothing more than a vessel for our future heirs. But he's a good man, at least." She released Clarisse, allowing her to relax against the headboard.

It would always be Rhaenyra and Clarisse.

Rhaenyra stood and began to remove the simple pins from her hair, placing them on the table before shedding her dress. As she stepped out of it, Clarisse felt a rush of warmth, her eyes unable to stray from Rhaenyra's naked form. The sight of her pink-pebbled nipples and the patch of curls between her legs made Clarisse blush, her gaze dropping to her lap in embarrassment.

Rhaenyra's violet eyes held a mischievous gleam as she noticed Clarisse's lingering stare. "Now it's your turn, my flame."

Rhaenyra sat on Clarisse's lap, gesturing for her to join. Without hesitation, Clarisse climbed onto Rhaenyra's lap, whispering, "Nyra," as their lips brushed together. Rhaenyra began to lift Clarisse's nightgown, her hands roaming greedily over her thighs.

"This frivolous thing looks hideous on you. Red suits you much better," Rhaenyra murmured, her hands caressing Clarisse's flesh.

Rhaenyra had always been captivated by Clarisse's body, worshipping her like the queen she was. Clary wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's waist, moaning softly as Rhaenyra's hands massaged her thighs.

"I see you're excited," Clarisse whispered, tilting her head as Rhaenyra planted kisses down her throat. "I couldn't take my eyes off you either."

"How could I not be? My pretty dove looked gorgeous in white. So many eyes were on you during the ceremony. The realm is marveled by your beauty and grace. A few seethed in jealousy, how could they not when you are just...so perfect."

The ceremony had stirred envy in Rhaenyra, knowing that the world they lived in would never accept them. But once she became queen, she would change that. She would make Clarisse her queen consort, and together they would rule the Seven Kingdoms. In time, but for now, they both had duties to fulfill.

"Alicent Hightower, your older sister, couldn't stop seething. I could've sworn a vein would pop out," Rhaenyra chuckled as she pushed Clarisse down on the bed, spreading her legs apart. She bunched the gown up to Clarisse's breasts, leaving her completely nude.

Clarisse felt a wave of self-consciousness and tried to cover her chest, embarrassed by her figure compared to Rhaenyra, who looked like a deity.

A slap on her ass made Clarisse yelp in surprise. "Take your hands off. I want to see all of you," Rhaenyra demanded, lightly brushing her reddened skin, her eyes hungrily drinking in Clarisse's body as she moved her hands and threw the gown to the floor. "Gevie," Rhaenyra murmured in High Valyrian, meaning "beautiful."

Rhaenyra leaned down to Clarisse's mound, lightly blowing on her heat before glancing up at her, her hand tracing teasingly over her stomach.

"Please, my love, I cannot take this anymore," Clarisse pleaded, her words cut off by a sharp gasp as Rhaenyra's fingers slid inside her, moving with a practiced pace.

Lust surged through Clarisse as if her body was on fire. Her back arched in pleasure, her head thrown back as she let out a moan.

Rhaenyra's tongue traced teasing stripes over Clarisse's pussy, her mouth latching onto her clit, sucking softly before lifting her head and returning to thrust her fingers inside her, skillfully driving her to the edge.

"Gods, I could taste you every day," Rhaenyra complimented, licking her lips clean before capturing Clarisse's lips in a heated kiss. Clary groaned into the kiss, tasting the remnants of Dornish wine and her own arousal on Rhaenyra's lips.

The Princess then shifted, putting one of Clarisse's legs over her own before pressing their swollen, wet cunts together, their clits brushing, sending waves of pleasure through both women as their moans filled the chamber. Rhaenyra needily ground their slick bodies together, savoring every moment.

"F—Faster, oh please, please!" Clarisse begged, tears welling in her eyes as she clung to Rhaenyra's waist. The Lady Strong mewled as Rhaenyra increased her pace, rapidly rubbing against her with heavy breaths.

Clarisse's eyes were drawn to Rhaenyra's bouncing breasts, and she reached up to caress them, eliciting moans from the Targaryen. Clarisse's body began to unravel as Rhaenyra's movements became overwhelming, thrusting back into her lover.

"Oh, my darling, you feel so good. The fourteen flames made you so perfect," Rhaenyra murmured, truly believing that the gods had gifted Clarisse to her, that they were meant to be together until they burned.

Rhaenyra kissed her way down Clarisse's neck, over her collarbone, and to the top of her breasts before looking down at her lover. "This is all mine, your sweet body is for me to use as I please."

Clarisse cupped Rhaenyra's face, pecking her lips. "I belong to you. I love you so much," she whimpered.

The Valyrian hummed, pleased, and seized Clarisse's breasts roughly, toying with her nipples. "So fucking pretty," she whispered, her voice thick with desire.

Clarisse tilted her head cutely, wrapping one arm around Rhaenyra's shoulder while the other held the headboard. The bed shook beneath them, loud noises accompanying the sound of their skin slapping together.

"Rhaenyra!" Clary sobbed, her voice filled with pleasure.

The Princess grunted above her, her body trembling with ecstasy as she whined with each thrust, her hands still toying with Clarisse's breasts. She placed Clarisse's hands on her chest, urging her to roll and massage her breasts, Rhaenyra's moans filling the room like music to Clarisse's ears.

Clarisse felt her climax approaching, Rhaenyra's grinding sending her over the edge. "I'm going to cum," she whispered, her voice strained.

Rhaenyra responded by slapping their wet cunts together repeatedly, hitting Clarisse's sweet spot while pinching her clit.

Clarisse's scream echoed through the chamber as her body convulsed with pleasure, her orgasm washing over her as Rhaenyra continued to ravish her

The dark haired woman embodying the essence of a queen, entwined her limbs around Rhaenyra's waist. Amid their passionate kiss, she moaned softly as Rhaenyra's hands tenderly massaged her thighs.

"I see you're excited," Clarisse whispered, tilting her head and allowing Rhaenyra to plant kisses down her neck. "I couldn't take my eyes off you either."

"How could I not be? My beautiful dove was breathtaking in white. Everyone at the ceremony couldn't help but admire you. The realm is enchanted by your beauty and grace, though some might seethe with jealousy. How could they not when you're so perfect?"

The ceremony had stirred feelings of envy in her, knowing the constraints of their world might never allow their love to be accepted.

But once she ascends to Queen, she'll redefine the order. Clarisse will be her Queen consort, and together they'll rule the Seven Kingdoms. For now, duty comes first.

"Alicent Hightower was practically seething with rage. I thought a vein might burst." Rhaenyra gently pushed Clarisse onto the bed, spreading her legs apart. She lifted the gown up to her chest, leaving Clarisse exposed.

Clarisse's legs felt relaxed but overwhelmed by desire. She was self-conscious about her body compared to Rhaenyra, who seemed divine.

A sharp slap to her rear startled Clarisse. "Remove your hands. I want to see all of you," Rhaenyra demanded, lightly brushing her reddened skin while her eyes hungrily explored Clarisse's body, watching her remove her gown and toss it aside.

Rhaenyra lowered her head to Clarisse's mound, blowing softly on her warmth before glancing up with a teasing smile. Her hand traced over Clarisse's stomach provocatively.

"Please, my love, I can't take this anymore," Clarisse gasped as Rhaenyra's fingers began thrusting inside her, moving quickly.

Lust surged through Clarisse as if her body was ablaze. She arched her back in pleasure, moaning with her head thrown back.

Rhaenyra leaned in, teasing her with her tongue, sucking gently on her clit before pulling back and skillfully thrusting her fingers deeper.

"Gods, I could taste you every day," Rhaenyra murmured, licking her lips and then capturing Clarisse's lips in a fierce kiss, savoring the taste of Dornish wine and her essence.

The Princess placed one leg over Clarisse's and pressed their wet, swollen folds together, their clits brushing in perfect rhythm. Their moans filled the chamber as they moved together.

"F—Faster, please!" Clarisse begged with tears in her eyes, gripping Rhaenyra's waist. Rhaenyra's movements grew more fervent, rubbing against Clarisse with heavy breaths.

Clarisse's hands roamed over Rhaenyra's bouncing breasts, her touches eliciting moans from the Targaryen. Rhaenyra's vigorous grinding brought Clarisse closer to the edge, making her thrust back eagerly.

"Oh, my darling, you feel so incredible. The fourteen flames have perfected you," Rhaenyra murmured, convinced the Gods had truly gifted Clarisse to her, meant to be together until the end.

Rhaenyra kissed down Clarisse's neck, along her collarbone, and over her breasts, before gazing down at her. "This body is mine to use as I wish."

Clarisse cupped Rhaenyra's face and kissed her tenderly. "I belong to you. I love you so much," she whispered.

The Valyrian, visibly pleased, seized Clarisse's breasts roughly, toying with her nipples. "So stunning," she said with a hint of intoxication.

Clarisse, with a cute tilt of her head, wrapped an arm around Rhaenyra while the other held the headboard. The bed creaked loudly with their movements.

"Rhaenyra!" Clarisse sobbed, overwhelmed by ecstasy.

Rhaenyra groaned above her, lost in pleasure, her hands gripping Clarisse's chest as she continued her relentless thrusts. Her eyes fixated on the movement of their bodies, entranced.

Clarisse massaged Rhaenyra's breasts, listening to her moans with delight. As Rhaenyra's grinding became overwhelming, Clarisse cried out, "I'm going to cum."

Rhaenyra responded by slapping their slick folds together, hitting Clarisse's sweet spot while pinching her clit.

The Lady Strong's scream echoed through the chamber and beyond as Rhaenyra continued her passionate assault. "Oh, gods!"

"There are no Gods here, my Flame. Just me, your future Queen," Rhaenyra said, watching as Clarisse reached her climax with a final thrust.

Clarisse's body felt on the brink of explosion, and with one last moan, she came, her essence spilling over Rhaenyra. The Targaryen paused to admire her lover, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "You are a vision."

Clarisse, now resting against the pillows and breathing heavily, flinched when Rhaenyra smacked her gently and turned to someone sitting by the fireplace. "Isn't that right, Ser Harwin?"

Clarisse could hardly believe it as her cheeks flushed. She twisted slightly to see Harwin, his pants undone, his hand stroking his hard cock with the tip visibly leaking.

Harwin watched them with a mix of amazement and desire, his gaze fixed on Rhaenyra's commanding presence. "Well done, Princess," he said, clearly turned on by her dominance.

"She's all yours, my Lord. Don't hold back. As you've seen, she enjoys being taken with the same fervor as those on Silk Street," Rhaenyra purred, kissing Clarisse's stomach and moving up to the valley of her breasts before capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Clarisse pulled back slightly, a pout on her lips and offense clear on her face. "I am not a whore," she said with furrowed brows.

"Of course not, my love," Rhaenyra soothed, her voice tender. "I'm just explaining to Ser Harwin how you like to be taken. You are not delicate, my Dove. You are the epitome of a true Princess—pampered and spoiled. You deserve to be treated as such." Rhaenyra's words eased Clarisse, who began to relax and glow with appreciation.

Reluctantly, Rhaenyra pulled away, signaling to Harwin that he could proceed. Harwin removed his shirt and let his trousers fall to the floor.

"Oh," Clarisse squeaked, her face blushing as she averted her gaze to the fireplace. Rhaenyra, now seated with a glass of red wine, had borrowed Clarisse's night robe to cover herself, lacking the energy to return to her gown.

Rhaenyra, known for her reluctance to share her true love—her Hightower Dove, the keeper of her heart and twin flame—was silently impressed. Ser Harwin's attributes seemed to surpass even Ser Criston's, drawing Rhaenyra's admiring gaze.

Harwin sat beside the bed, gently tipping Clarisse's face to meet his gaze. "I can't blame the Princess for her affection. My lady wife is the kindest woman I've ever met, and the same can be said for the Princess."

His eyes flicked to Rhaenyra, who raised her glass in acknowledgment of his words.

"Well, I am the Realm's Delight," Rhaenyra declared with a smile behind her cup. "And I'm far from kind. Flattering words won't make me like you any more. I'll respect you as Clary's husband, but behind closed doors, it's a different matter."

Harwin looked at her with an intrigued expression, unoffended by her words, reminiscent of his reaction when he saw her in Godswood, covered in blood but holding his wife's hand.

"Harwin," Clarisse said, smiling and blushing at his compliment. She reached for his face, kissing him sweetly. Their kiss quickly became heated before Harwin pulled back, gently pushing her onto the bed.

Clarisse's head sank into the pillows as she gazed up at him in awe. "You are beautiful," Harwin said breathlessly. He wasn't accustomed to gentleness—his previous encounters were fueled by lust and passion. He wanted this moment to be romantic for Clarisse and was determined to ensure her comfort. Any hint of non-consent would have him facing Syrax's wrath.

He began to place his mouth on her tits, luxuriously sucking on her skin to create more bruises. Harwin made sure to avoid Rhaenyra's bitemarks knowing fully well that Clarisse Hightower wasn't just his. She will always be Rhaenyra Targaryen's first.

Lady Strong softly moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him down as a sign to continue.

Harwin let out a groan before reaching back up to kiss her again this time throwing all gentleness aside and practically devoured her lips. Clarisse's moans were swallowed up, holding his shoulders. Harwin desperely held her face with his hands and Clarisse just started to realize how small she was compared to him.

The man practically melted with her hands slid down his back to embrace him. She felt like a warm blanket — a security from the cold from all the chaos around him. He felt peaceful being cradled in her arms.

Clarisse guided her hands back to tangle up his hair, tugging at his curls. Harwin touched her cheekbone and the woman almost flinched when she felt his cockteasing her clit before stroking her folds. "Can I?"

"Yes — please Harwin I cannot take it anymore."

The man weakened at her words and sank into Clarisse. His hands gripped her thighs and peered down at his wife waiting for her permission.

With a nod, Harwin's ears welcomed the sound of her shameless cry.

"Oh fuck." Clarisse panted, looking at Rhaenyra. She expected envy but instead saw her lover's eyes watching the pair intently fascinated. It was almost like Rhaenyra wanted to join them. 

Harwin chuckled under his breath and Clarisse was about to say something when he shuts her up with another thrust and another. His mouth pressed against the woman and pulled back to see her cheeks flushed and yearning for more. He glanced back at Rhaenyra to see her entranced by the scene.

"More...more please I need more," Clarisse begged, her nails scratching his back and legs wrapped around his hips in hunger.

The man folded right then and there. His thrusts turned rough and Clarisse's eyes rolled back and dug deeper into his back.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Harwin choked out and the sound of Rhaenyra's laughter filled the air and let out a comment agreeing with his words.

Clarisse's wanton moans drowned Rhaenyra's words and could hardly hear anything she was saying.

Rhaenyra and Harwin looked at her and thought she was so angelic like this. Her brown hair spread out like a halo and her face was full of ecstasy. Clarisse Hightower was a goddess. Deserving of being painted and sculptured for all of Westeros to remember.

The bed begins to shake and the headboard bangs against the wall. The Hightower wept in sheer bliss when his quicker pace, rutted into her marvelously watching how her eyes glazed and wailed out his name like a prayer, It wasn't long before she came but Ser Harwin did not stop at all despite releasing moments after, grabbing onto her hips harshly.

All Clarisse could hear was Harwin grunting in her ear before he settled his face in her breasts, the sound of his breathing and noises made Clarisse clench around his cock yet loop her arms around his shoulders holding him in place, welcoming him in her embrace once again. His movements didn't halt just yet. 

She planted a few kisses on his shoulder while grinding down on him when he was about to pull out."Let go husband ─ breed me, make me a mother." she whispered. 

Harwin's eyes were wide-eyed and listened, he didn't think Clary would want to be with the child at all so soon into their marriage but the thought of actually having a family of his own to love and protect made him feel eager.

After a couple more thrusts Harwin finally allows himself to cum and groaned weakly finally collapsing. He allowed his eyes to shut when Clarisse reassuringly stroked his cheek and kissed him. "Sleep husband, you were so good to me," she whispered. "I'll reward you much later."

He allowed the darkness to take over and shut his eyes. Once Clarisse was sure he was asleep, she leaned back against the headboard breathless and overwhelmed. She looked at Rhaenyra to see her already staring.

 The guilt slowly left when her Lover shot her a soft genuine smile despite the hint of sadness evident in her eyes. But there was also lust clouded in them and peered down fucking her moments ago and back at Rhaenyra and knew that she too became enamored by Harwin just like she did.

She gently placed Harwin's head on the pillows and slowly got up from the bed. When Clarisse's feet hit the ground and started to walk toward her Lover she tried hard not to wince at the pain between the legs.

Rhaenyra sets her glass down and shifts her legs apart as an invitation to the brunette. Clarisse straddles on her lap planting her hands on her cheeks and pulling her into a series of lustful kisses. Rhaenyra smiles between them— murmuring sweet words of how good she was seducing and wrapping Ser Harwin around her finger.

"I am sorry my love for letting you witness all that."

"Nonsense sweetling—he's your husband by name. You are doing your duty. There's nothing wrong with enjoying either. I know your loyalty lies with me when he fucks you. I have to admit I'm quite jealous. Laenor is utterly useless and I need heirs."

"I love you — you're the Queen of my Heart. I burn for you." Clarisse proclaimed.

"This ring proves it." she showed off the ring made of Valyrian steel. 

Clarisse's eyes fell back on Harwin where Rhaenyra was looking and tilted her head questionably, "What of Ser Laenor?" If he cannot fulfill his duties...Harwin could and we can say that the children took after Princess Rhaenys with her Baratheon looks. 

Rhaenyra peered over to the sleeping man, "I will not force Laenor—but if does come to Laenor not able to do the act then I suppose Harwin would suffice."

"I know he is no Daemon... no man can compare to Daemon but perhaps he could." Clarisse's hands rested on the armrests. She glanced back at the sleeping man on the bed and turned back to Rhaenyra with a smirk

"I'm sure he wants to fuck both of us since the hunt."

Rhaenyra sighed and gripped her bottom, "I will consider it but I'll wait. As much as I would love to stay the night with you, I must return."

Once Clarisse moved underneath the bed covers she watched Rhaenyra finally make her way through the hidden before looking back tenderly, 'Avy jorrāelan.' Rhaenyra whispered, her eyes shined with pride seeing the ring adorning her finger shine back and couldn't help but smile bigger.

'I love you too.' Clarisse mouthed to the Princess. 

It was decided that Harwin would be a placeholder for Daemon for the two women. Both knowing that in a few years, they'll reunite with their Rogue Prince.

But little did they know, Harwin will mean so much more to them in the next ten years.