Daemon's betrayal leaves a mark on Saerra's heart, one that is not easily removed. She wants so desperately to have him and hold him and love him... but not if she's a prize to be one. Not if she's an agreed-upon amount.

Perhaps with Rhaenyra, things will be different. Yes, she is married, but Laenor's tastes are quite known to the realm, it's a secret not very hidden. Perhaps now, Saerra will have her happiness.

The weeks that follow the wedding are dark and grim in the Red Keep. The air is thick and protruding as Rhaenyra and Laenor find themselves unable to conceive. Multiple failed attempts have lead them to forget about it entirely. They've pushed it off for a later date as to not worry about it presently.

And once more, Rhaenyra seeks comfort in the dead of night, comfort she intends to find in Saerra's chambers as she sneaks inside with a mischievous grin.

" How'd it go?" Saerra asks as she sets down her book to give the princess her full attention.

" It didn't," Rhaenyra brushes off, then quickly grabs Saerra to kiss her.

The bastard girl doesn't complain as they share the bed together. She doesn't complain as their bodies writhe against the covers in pure bliss. She doesn't even complain as she rests her head on Rhaenyra's chest and listens to her little heartbeat whilst their naked bodies tangled together.

" You're the first woman I've ever been with," Rhaenyra notes as she fiddles with Saerra's braids, " Did you know?"

" I did not, Princess," Saerra replies.

" Am I the first woman you've been with?" Rhaenyra asks.

" No, Princess," Saerra sighs heavily.

The Princess smiles wildly as her curiosity gets the best of her.

" Who was it?"

" A lady on the Street of Silk. Her name was Nyla."

With time, Saerra feels herself opening up to the Princess. Feeling not so small and meek as she once did, but beginning to feel at home. She's cautious, for she experienced a similar feeling with Prince Daemon. But with Rhaenyra, everything is so... different.

Saerra's heart still longs for the Rogue Prince, and though it feels content with the Realm's Delight, it doesn't quite feel full. As if a piece is missing from her heart, entirely. It's been at least a year, yet her heart has not healed.

But when the news comes of Prince Daemon and Lady Laena's wedding, something inside Saerra snaps. Her heart seems to shatter as her eyes well up with tears, but above all else, she's angry. So angry that she storms through the castle in search of her Rhaenyra, only to find Ser Harwin standing outside her door.

" Where is she?" Saerra questions.

" On Syrax, my lady," Harwin responds, " She requested some time in solitude."

" Well she has just picked the worst time," She scoffs, then brings up her hands to cover her face as her body heats up and swelters.

" Is everything alright?" He gently asks.

" No, Ser Harwin... no it's not," Saerra sighs as the bubble builds up inside her chest, " I thought... I thought maybe what we had was real. Real enough to where one day he could call me his--" she stops herself, for she refuses to let the tears fall, " But that title now belongs to another... because I am just a bastard."

" Saerra..." Harwin softly utters.

Harwin reaches out a hand, hesitating for a moment before gently placing it on Saerra's shoulder. His touch brings a sense of comfort, a reminder that she is not alone in her pain.

"You are not just a bastard," He says firmly, his voice filled with conviction," Titles and birthright do not define your worth."

Saerra looks into Harwin's eyes, searching for sincerity and finding it in the depths of his gaze. The tension between them is palpable, charged with unspoken desires and a shared understanding of heartache.

" It doesn't change the fact that everyone only sees me as a bastard," She utters.

" I don't," Harwin states.

Saerra's breath catches in her throat as she gazes into Harwin's eyes, a mixture of longing and uncertainty coursing through her veins. The world around them fades into the background as they stand there, teetering on the precipice of something they both fear and desire.

In a moment of boldness, Saerra takes a step closer to Harwin, closing the gap between them. Their bodies almost touch, the air charged with anticipation. Their eyes lock, their breaths mingle, and the tension between them reaches its peak.

Unable to hold back any longer, Harwin's hand moves from Saerra's shoulder to gently cup her face. His touch is tender and full of longing. Their lips are so close, an almost imperceptible distance separating them. They can feel each other's breath, the rapid thudding of their hearts echoing in their ears.

And then, in an act of surrender to the undeniable chemistry between them, they close the remaining gap and their lips meet in a fervent kiss. It is a collision of passion and pent-up emotions, a release of all the unspoken words and desires that have consumed them.

In that moment, time stands still. The weight of their shared pain and longing dissipates, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and connection. The kiss is both tender and fierce, a testament to their undeniable bond.

But it doesn't last.

" My apologizes," Harwin whispers as he gently pulls away, " I should have never--"

" Don't apologize," Saerra whispers as she gazes into his eyes, " Please."

No thoughts transpire as the two walk together into Saerra's chambers. Once the doors are closed, their lips clash together once more as their hands freely roam. They take a moment to pause and remove Harwin's armor, but once it's off their lips are locked again. Harwin picks up Saerra by her thighs are presses her against the nearest wall as his lips trail down to her neck. Her eyes roll back as she feels his arousal on her thigh, getting closer and closer until it breaches her walls. She lets out an ecstatic moan as her head thumps against the stone wall, only for Harwin to grab her head and bring her lips back down to his. He then moves them to the bed, where Saerra climbs on top and rolls her hips against his. Neither have it in them to remove their lips from one another and so never do as orgasms crash through their bodies and moans permeate the air.

A seemingly simple act that has only complicated matters even further.

They have given into their desires, but at what cost?

The days after Saerra and Harwin's time in bed are filled with anxiety and doubt. Saerra gnaws at the inside of her cheek, worried that someone may know. Worried that someone may tell the tale and spill their secrets.

" Trouble sleeping?" A voice asks in the darkness, startling Saerra as she descends the steps of the castle.

" Oh, uh... yes," Saerra responds as she tugs her robe closer around her body.

" I, too, struggle to find sleep most nights," Larys utters with a gentle grin, " Would you care to join me?"

" I-I should probably get back to bed."

" I won't take too much of your time, that I promise."

Saerra reluctantly agrees, giving a false smile as she follows Larys into his own chambers, grand and decadent with a fire rumbling in the fire place.

" Please, sit," He says as he motions to a plush chair right by the fire.

Saerra lowers herself onto the chair, her nerves coiling tightly within her. The warmth of the fire does little to ease her discomfort as she awaits whatever conversation Larys has in store for her. She studies his face, searching for any hint of what he might know, but his expression remains unreadable.

Larys takes a seat across from her, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that makes her uneasy. The silence stretches between them, thick with unspoken words, until Larys finally breaks it with a soft sigh.

"You know, Saerra," He begins, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and caution, "It's interesting how secrets have a way of finding their way to the surface."

Saerra's heart skips a beat, her body growing tense. She swallows hard, forcing herself to meet Larys' gaze.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Lord Larys," She utters.

He chuckles, a sound devoid of humor.

"Oh, Saerra, you needn't play coy with me. I have always had a keen eye for hidden truths and forbidden desires," He states with a soft and gentle smile.

She feels a knot forming in her stomach, her mind racing to comprehend how much he might know. Did he witness their tryst? Has he uncovered their secret?

"You see," Larys continues, leaning back in his chair, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and warning as his deformed foot remains in its metal cast on the floor, "secrets have a way of shaping destinies. They can be a weapon, a means of control. And yet, they can also be a source of vulnerability, a weakness to be exploited."

Saerra's breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening as the weight of his words settles upon her. She finds herself unable to speak, her mind frantically searching for a way to navigate this precarious conversation.

Larys leans forward, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief.

" You and Ser Harwin share a bond, don't you? A connection that goes beyond mere loyalty," He remarks.

The blood drains from Saerra's face, her hands trembling in her lap. She tries to steady her voice, but it comes out as a barely audible whisper.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about."

Larys raises an eyebrow, his gaze piercing through her defenses.

"Oh, my dear Saerra, you needn't lie to me. I have seen the stolen glances, the hidden whispers. Secrets have a way of revealing themselves, even in the darkest of nights."

A shiver runs down Saerra's spine as the realization sets in. Larys knows. He knows the truth that she and Harwin have desperately tried to keep hidden. The power he holds in this knowledge hangs over her like a sword, threatening to destroy everything she holds dear.

"What do you want from me?" Saerra finally manages to speak, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Larys leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers.

"What I want, Saerra, is not for me to decide. The question is, what are you willing to do to protect your secrets? To safeguard the fragile web of alliances and loyalties that hangs in the balance?"

Her mind races, weighing the options before her. The instinct to protect herself and Harwin wars with the fear of what Larys could do if provoked. She knows that she must tread carefully, choosing her words and actions with precision.

"I will do whatever it takes," Saerra declares, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her, "I will protect those I care for, no matter the cost."

Larys nods, a glimmer of satisfaction dancing in his eyes.

"Very well. We shall see just how far you are willing to go," He says in a voice soft and unsuspecting.

Saerra puffs out her chest, as if to overcompensate for her racing heart. She leaves Larys this night, not being certain what the man does and does not know, but the man is known for spinning his web so silently, that others are blind to its existence.

And for a long time afterward, Saerra and Harwin all but ignore each other. They speak no words as they pass each other in the hall. They ignore each other's eyes each and every time Rhaenyra drags Saerra into bed. Saerra carries the guilt with her for months, until the Princess comes knocking with news on the tip of her tongue. Rhaenyra grabs Saerra's hands, rubbing over the knuckles with her thumbs as their eyes meet.

" I am with child," Rhaenyra softly announces.

" Oh," Saerra breathes in surprise, " Good fortune to you, Princess. I'm sure Ser Laenor will make a fine father, as you will make a fine mother."

" Saerra... the babe is not Laenor's," The Princess slowly utters as her eyes remain locked, " Ser Harwin and I... we've come to an understanding. Since Laenor and I have been unable to consummate... Harwin will give me an heir."

Saerra's heart stops in her chest, her breath catching as the weight of Rhaenyra's words settles upon her. She feels a mixture of shock, relief, and a tinge of jealousy coursing through her veins. The realization that Harwin and Rhaenyra have found solace in each other, that they have chosen this unconventional path, fills her with conflicting emotions.

"You and Harwin?" Saerra manages to utter, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rhaenyra nods, her grip on Saerra's hands tightening ever so slightly.

"Yes. We have found comfort in each other's arms, and in doing so, we hope to secure the future of my line," She adds, " He is doing me a great service."

A myriad of thoughts race through Saerra's mind, threatening to overwhelm her. She tries to process the depth of the situation, the implications it carries for their relationships, and the unspoken desires that lingered between her and Harwin. A flicker of hurt passes through her eyes before she composes herself, forcing a smile that does not quite reach her eyes.

"I... I am glad you have found a solution, Princess," Saerra says, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation, "It is a noble cause, and I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Rhaenyra studies her, her gaze searching for any sign of deeper emotions.

" I know this may be difficult for you. But I want you to understand that Harwin and I care for you deeply. Our arrangement does not change that."

Saerra forces a nod, her heart aching with a mix of gratitude and unrequited longing. She musters the strength to meet Rhaenyra's gaze, her eyes filled with a blend of vulnerability and determination.

"I understand, Princess," Saerra replies, her voice steady but tinged with a touch of sadness, "I want nothing more than your happiness. If this is what brings you joy and secures the future of House Targaryen, then I will stand by your side."

Rhaenyra's expression softens, a glimmer of empathy in her eyes. She releases Saerra's hands, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You are a remarkable woman," Rhaenyra says, her voice filled with sincerity, "I am grateful to have you by my side."

A bittersweet smile graces Saerra's lips as she gazes into Rhaenyra's eyes, their connection deeper than mere words could convey. The Princess leans forward to plant a gentle kiss on Saerra's lips, one that lingers for quite some time. In that moment, she understands that their bond transcends the boundaries of convention and expectation. It is a love that defies societal norms, and she finds solace in knowing that Rhaenyra cherishes her as much as she cherishes the Princess.

As days turn into weeks and weeks into months, Saerra finds herself walking a delicate tightrope. She remains by Rhaenyra's side, supporting her through the trials and tribulations of her pregnancy, all the while navigating the complex emotions that swirl within her own heart. She witnesses the growing affection between Rhaenyra and Harwin, their shared moments of tenderness and stolen glances, and she struggles to quell the longing that stirs within her.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there are stolen moments when Saerra and Harwin find themselves alone. Their encounters are filled with unspoken words, lingering gazes, and a palpable tension that dances between them. It becomes increasingly difficult for them to ignore the undeniable connection that still simmers beneath the surface.

One evening, as the moon casts its gentle glow upon the Red Keep, Saerra finds herself standing at the edge of the castle walls, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. The cool breeze caresses her skin, and she feels Harwin's presence before she sees him. He approaches silently, his footsteps barely audible against the night's whispers.

"You're avoiding me," Harwin's voice breaks the silence, his words laced with a mixture of pain and longing.

Saerra turns to face him, her eyes meeting his in a moment of unspoken understanding. The weight of their unfulfilled desires hangs heavy in the air, and she can no longer deny the depth of her feelings for him.

" As have you," She says softly, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Harwin takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering.

"Saerra, I... I have come to care for you deeply. But my duty to Rhaenyra..." He trails.

"I know," Saerra interrupts, her voice filled with a mix of resignation and determination, "You have given her your word, and I respect that."

A flicker of longing passes through Harwin's eyes, his resolve waning.

"Saerra, I cannot bear to hurt either of you. I cannot choose between the two," He utters

"Then don't," Saerra whispers, closing the gap between them until their bodies are mere inches apart, "We can find our own path, Harwin."

The air crackles with tension, and in that moment, they both understand the weight of their decision. Harwin's gaze softens, and his hand reaches out to cup Saerra's cheek, his touch gentle and filled with longing. Slowly, he leans in, and their lips meet in a passionate, yet tender, kiss.

Time seems to stand still as they lose themselves in the embrace, their bodies pressed together, hearts beating in sync. In that stolen moment, Saerra feels a surge of liberation, breaking free from the confines of societal expectations and forging a path of her own choosing.

As they pull away, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, Saerra's eyes meet Harwin's with a newfound sense of clarity.

" I may not know everything..." She trails as her eyes flicker between his, " But I know that I want you."

Harwin nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. They both understand that the road ahead will be fraught with challenges, but they are ready to face them together, unafraid to carve out their own destiny in a world that seeks to confine them.

Over the following months, as Rhaenyra's pregnancy progresses, Saerra and Harwin continue to play their roles faithfully. They are unwavering in their support for Rhaenyra, their actions guided by a deep sense of loyalty and love. They attend to her needs, offer comforting words, and ensure her well-being, all the while concealing the true nature of their relationship.

Saerra's heart swells with both joy and sorrow as she witnesses Rhaenyra's growing belly and feels the subtle kicks of the unborn child. She shares in Rhaenyra's anticipation, treasuring these moments while also grappling with the knowledge that the child she carries is not Laenor's. The truth remains hidden, buried beneath layers of secrecy and unspoken agreements, and they must navigate the delicate balance of their shared secret.

Finally, the day arrives when Rhaenyra goes into labor. Saerra and Harwin are at her side, their hearts pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The room is filled with midwives and healers, their hushed whispers and gentle movements creating an atmosphere of both tension and hope.

As the cries of a newborn fill the air, Saerra's eyes meet Harwin's, and they exchange a silent understanding.

Rhaenyra's exhausted but radiant smile captures the room's attention as she cradles her son in her arms.

"Jacaerys," She whispers, her voice filled with love and pride, "My sweet Jacaerys."

The baby's brown hair is a stark contrast to the Targaryen silver, an undeniable sign of his true parentage. Saerra's heart swells with a mix of joy and trepidation, knowing that the truth is evident to those who dare to see. But no one speaks up. No one challenges the unspoken agreement that surrounds Jacaerys's parentage. Even the Queen herself seems to suspect the truth but chooses to remain silent.

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months as Laenor and Rhaenyra raise Jacaerys together. The Velaryon treats the child as his own, perhaps blinded by his want for a child. Saerra pours her heart and soul into caring for the child, her love extending beyond bloodlines and societal expectations. Harwin, torn between his feelings for both Saerra and Rhaenyra, remains steadfast in his dedication to their unconventional union, fulfilling his role as a protector and confidant to both women.

Their days are filled with stolen glances and fleeting touches, always hidden from prying eyes. The castle walls hold their shared secrets, but their hearts yearn for a future where their love can be openly acknowledged. Saerra and Harwin find solace in stolen moments, brief respites from the reality they inhabit, where their love can flourish behind closed doors.

As the years pass, the bond between Saerra, Harwin, and Rhaenyra deepens, strengthened by their shared experiences and the unspoken understanding that they are a family forged by love and circumstance. They navigate the intricate dance of duty and desire, sacrificing their own happiness for the greater good, all the while cherishing the stolen moments that affirm their connection.

After Jacaerys comes Lucerys, the younger brother with a bushel of brown hair that the Queen demands to see with her own eyes. As soon as Alicent lays her eyes on the babe, brought to her in the arms of Saerra, it sends a ping to her heart, one that affirms her suspicion but makes her angry at his mother.

" Thank you, Saerra," Alicent utters, " You may go."

On her way back to her Rhaenyra, Saerra passes by the nannies with the Queen's children, who are yet to be poisoned by the Hightower's hateful tongue.

The years are kind and cruel as the two boys grow up in the Red Keep. Saerra feels a sense of duty to protect the boys, even if she shares no blood with them. And with the years, Laenor and Saerra are able to somewhat meant the broken bond left by their father.

Saerra stands in the courtyard of the Red Keep, watching the two boys play with a mixture of pride and protectiveness. Jacaerys and Luke, her heart whispers their names with love, have grown into strong and spirited young boys under her watchful eye. Their laughter fills the air, and she can't help but smile.

"Saerra," A voice calls out behind her.

She turns around to see Laenor approaching. There's a tentative warmth in his eyes, a glimmer of understanding that has been absent for so long.

"Laenor," She acknowledges, her voice tinged with a hint of caution.

He stands beside her, his gaze fixed on their children.

"They adore you, you know," He says, his voice soft.

Saerra's eyes soften as well, the tension between them momentarily easing.

"I care for them deeply. They are my family, in every sense of the word," She utters.

Laenor nods, a wistful smile playing on his lips.

"I see that now. I see how much you love them, how fiercely you protect them," He adds.

"They deserve nothing less," She replies, her voice filled with conviction.

A moment of silence hangs between them, the weight of their shared responsibility and unspoken regrets permeating the air.

"I wish things had been different," Laenor admits, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wish our father had been there for us."

Saerra's eyes softened, and she turns to face him fully, her heart fluttering from Laenor calling him their father.

"So do I," She nods, " But we cannot change the past, Laenor. We can only move forward and be there for each other and for our children."

A flicker of vulnerability passes through Laenor's eyes as he met her gaze.

"I want to be a good father to them, Saerra. To be there for them in a way our father never was for..." Laenor fumbles over his words, as if doubting them entirely, " In a way that you deserved."

Saerra's heart swells with a mix of hope and cautious optimism. She has seen glimpses of the man he could be, the man who cares deeply for their children, and she wants to believe in his words.

"I want that too," She admits, her voice laced with a newfound trust.

Laenor reaches out hesitantly, his hand finding hers in a gesture of tentative reconciliation.

A small smile graces Saerra's lips as she clasps his hand, a silent acknowledgment of their shared commitment.

They stand together in the courtyard, their hands joined, their shared gaze fixed on the future that lay ahead. In that moment, they find solace in the unspoken understanding that their bond, though fractured, has the potential to mend.

The sun casts its warm glow upon the courtyard, illuminating their path forward. With each passing day, Saerra and Laenor will strive to heal the wounds of the past, building a bridge of understanding and acceptance that will allow their bond to grow stronger. And as they watch their children play, their laughter echoing in the air, they know that the love they hold for their family will guide them through the challenges that lay ahead. Together, they will forge a new chapter in their lives, one filled with love, forgiveness, and unwavering devotion to the two young boys who have brought them together once more.

Everything seems to fall into place. Everything seems to be going perfectly.

Saerra has spent many years drowning in love between Rhaenyra and Harwin in a harmonious blend of pure bliss. She has spent many years taking care of children as if they're her own, shielding them from the wicked game the Hightowers play. She has spent many years mending the broken bond with her half-brother... all whilst forgetting about the man who put her on this path, and starting this life for her in the first place.

Daemon.

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[ y'all im sorry but rhaenyra x saerra x daemon is endgame 😭 ]