targ princess

you hurt your arm during a practice battle. it was nothing serious, but your husband insisted on helping you in any way he could. this time, it was your hair that needed to be washed, and gwayne oh so lovingly forced you to accept his help.

“stop fidgeting,” he says while laying your head back into the washtub.

you sigh. “I don’t like being this … restricted.”

“well, that’s not always the case, is it?” your husband whispers directly into your ear. heat rushes to your cheeks, and you give his shoulder a slap half-heartedly.

“only speaking the truth, my love. whether you want to hear it or not.” he smiles right above your face, kissing your forehead. “now lay back and close your eyes.”

you do as he says and then you feel warm water run over your head. after that came gwaynes skilled fingers, he gently rubs your scalp while humming.

bit by bit, you let go; the tension leaves your body.

“that’s it. just like that. let go.”

another wave of heat rushes through your whole body. “is it your intention to let your words sound so ambiguous, husband?” you inquire.

gwayne gives a low chuckle. “that’s for you to decide, my love.”

you scrunch your nose. “how cruel you can be, husband. you know I’m physically limited at the moment.”

he rinses the soap out of your hair, continuing to massage your temples and scalp, and more and more tension seeps out of your body. your liquid between his hands.

“you don’t need your arm for some things,” he whispers right into your ear, and goosebumps spread all over your body.

a smile spreads on your lips, your whole body vibrating with sheer anticipation. “big words, my love.”

“I intend to make them come true as soon as you’ve learned your lesson on accepting help without acting like the world is coming to an end.”

summary: gwayne is her eternal shadow. and one of the simple joys in her life is making him lose his temper. pairing: fem!targaryen!oc x gwayne hightower content: fluff, hurt, tension, vaelora is a war captive a/n: my first hotd fic!!! this is one of multiple little snippets I want to write for gwayne and vaelora. please let me know what you think!! also, sorry for the repost, I decided to let go of the sideblog and make a main blog just for my hotd obsession.

After hours of riding, she just had to jump into the river. Screw it, Vaelora thought. It was her duty as a hostage to drive the knight assigned to keep her crazy. The man she was only too happy to drive mad. It was one of the only fun things in her life to keep Gwayne Hightower on his toes. She looked at his auburn hair, whipped by the wind across his forehead, and the skeptical expression that made the lines of his face even harder, even though his eyes never were. 

“Get in!” she screamed. “The water is lovely.”

“I’m sure it is, princess,” he retorded. “And full of leeches that are too keen on drinking your blood.”

Vaelora lay on her back, drowning out his voice, drowning out everything. The fact that, even though Gwayne made fun with her, she was his captive. The fact that she hadn’t seen her older sister in a whole year. The fact that soon enough she‘d be back in her room – alone, with no one to listen to her but the rats of the castle. And there were plenty of them, animals and men. 

“Princess?” Faintly, the sound of Gwaynes voice. A beautiful voice, she might add. Soft around the edges. Sometimes a little too soft for her liking. She wondered if there was anything that would get him to snap out of that annoying calm he always had. 

What would he do, for example, if she just …

Vaelora acted on impulse. She turned around, letting her body go limb. Not moving an inch, letting herself drift away from the shore. A pressure started in her lungs, faint but growing stronger with each second she was holding her breath. It took too long. Maybe he wouldn’t … 

Next thing she knew, Gwayne jumped into the water. He spun her around; his mouth slightly open in shock, his eyes wide. But his expression changed when she burst out laughing.

“You’re impossible,” he ground out, letting go of her – but she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she swung her hand out and splashed water in his face with all her might. 

“You did not just …”

“I did. What now, Ser Gwayne? What will it take for you to finally snap out of that horrible chivalry, hm?” Another splash of water hit him in the face.

“Princess, we have to keep going–” he started, but another splash of water hit him mid sentence. 

“Aren’t you tired of acting so righteous all the time?” she inquired and lay on her back again, drowning out his voice once more. A big mistake – the next moment, his arms wrapped around her and he made a move to throw her over his shoulder. Vaelora struggled with all her might, but his grip remained unyielding.

“Let go of me right this instance!” she seethed. Which made the knight let out a small laugh.

“You wished for me to step out of my own skin, Princess,” he said. “I’m simply granting your heart’s desire.”

She squirmed and struggled against him until she finally slid down his body. The water was so deep that she had to stand on her tiptoes to not go under. So deep that she clung to his shoulders when the current threatened to sweep her away.

“I’ve got you.” Gwayne’s voice, right next to her ear. Then the realization that he had taken off parts of his armor to get in the water. She could feel his body, hard in all the places where she was soft. She didn’t know how it happened, but her hands acted on their own, sliding across his chest. The catch of his breath was lovely. She wanted to get moire noises out of him. 

“Princess …” His voice sounded hoarse and that made her pulse quicken. Her hands wandered lower even. To his stomach. The muscles tensed under her touch, and her mouth felt dry when she realized how trained, how strong he really was. Every part of him was formed to perfection. Hardened by decades of training and war. 

War against her sister.

War that tore her from her family. 

War that was the reason she was held captive.

She jerked her hand back as if she’d burned herself. Suddenly, she became aware of the coldness of the water, as well as the fact that Gwayne was her enemy –and nothing more. 

“Let’s go home,” he muttered as if the same realization had hit him. Her teeth were chattering from the cold and she avoided his gaze.