content: Gwayne had thought he was staring to loose his mind in Harrenhal, but thank the Gods you had arrived providing him with some light in such a dark place.
words: 1.2k
cw: MDNI 18+ p in v, riding, established relations, reader is a Targ, but not stated how nor are any physical descriptions are used, mentions of death, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything.
a/n: I was writing Dunk, but somehow my mind ended up here so ya here it is lol
Sleep seemed to be nonexistent these days. There always seemed to be something that forbid it. A flash that could not be explained, a sound that was not really there. It was starting to take a tole on him.
Tonight was no different. Gwayne was always on alert here, half waiting for someone to make an attempt on his life while asleep. Thus allowing him to hear the steps coming quickly towards him.
The feet sounded bare, padding against the floor, but they were loud nonetheless echoing through the halls.
He was immediately shooting out of bed, hand wrapped around his sword in an instant. With the weapon raised he waited, hearing the steps stop just outside his door before it was opened revealing just who had come for him.
But it was no solider making an attempt on his life. It was you. He breathed your name out like a prayer, the blade dropping to the floor with a loud clatter. Moving toward you, pulling you into his chest, without hesitation.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, gripping your red dress in his hands. It was a favorite of his, one that you had worn often before this whole mess had started.
The one that had tore you apart.
"Rhaenyra said you were here…and I had to see you. I had to make sure you were alright," you confessed, your voice cracking as he could hear the concern laced through it.
He pulled back cradling your face as you smiled at him. It was the one he loved so much. The one that filled him with warmth, and occupied his dreams in your absence, "I have missed you so much," he whispered.
"Make up for the lost time then."
His mouth was on yours in a second, claiming yours, "I have missed you so much," he repeated against your mouth. He needed you to know just how much he had longed for you these days. He pushed you back toward the mattress. Your hands moved quickly freeing his cock from his breeches.
He went to lay you down against the mattress, but you stopped him. You turned your bodies causing the back of his knees to hit the bed before you pushed him back. He sat up staring at you, as you pulled your dress up around your hips.
You looked younger almost, in a way he could not explain. Entirely different from the last time he had laid eyes on you, and even now as he tried to recount in his mind just when that was exactly, but he did not let himself dwell on it.
You were here, and he was going to enjoy your time together no matter how small that might be. You straddled him, gripping his cock in your hand as you ran him through your slick folds,"Are you wearing nothing under neath?" he questioned, raising a brow.
You did not respond, but his mind did not stay on it long as then you sank down on top of him. "Oh fuck," he moaned out.
Neither of you moved for a moment, simply existing there, feeling each other, before you finally began to rock your hips back and forth setting the pace. He allowed you to with no complaint, simply holding your hips as he looked up at you.
"You feel divine," he told you, as he watched your face contort in pleasure as you rode him. He could still remember the first time it had happened, you had told him you needed no instruction as you had been riding dragons all your life.
"You are a vision of beauty in these dark times," he continued, his praise, as he could feel you clench around him like a vice.
"Are you a bard or a solider?" you asked, grinding your hip down into him hard, causing him to moan.
"Both. I am both for you," he confessed.
"What else are you for me?" you asked, your hands moving to lace through his red hair forcing him head back to look at you.
"Whatever you want me to be," he assured you. His release came out of no where, as you moaned at his name loudly, pressing yourself further into him. You did not move, and he did not pull out both of you clingly to the other as if you were afraid you would both disapear.
Because that was the truth was it not? The moment would end and you would have to go back to wherever you came from and he would be stuck here.
Something felt wrong though. Something he could not quite put his finger on it, but he did not want the thought to consume him. If anything he wanted you to consume him instead. To simply be a man and woman in love rather than anything else.
You a Targaryen. He a Hightower on different sides of a war for a throne neither of you would even sit.
His ragged breaths filled the air. He buried himself further into your chest, trying to hide away from the world even if it was only for a moment longer,"I must go," you whispered, your hands running through his hair gently working the knots from it. You leaned down pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
"Why?" he questioned in protest, trying to cling to you, but it felt as if his fingers were slipping through you.
He could feel you shift against him, and he could not stop you from pulling away. He tried to urge his mind "Because I am dead. Remember you helped kill me at Rooks Rest?" You pulled away from him and suddenly you were dressed back in your riding leathers, blood smearing your face. The smell of ash filling his nostrils.
His mouth opened, as everything came back. Your dragons screeches as she was ripped apart. The way he watched you fall through the sky, crashing through the castle. A horror that had been repeating through his minds for day.
The real reason as to why he could not find sleep as you were always there awaiting him in his dreams, but even tongiht it seemed you would make your way to him either way.
He could see it all now. When he found your body, your neck not angled right, your limbs cold and disfigured, before he watched the men remove your dragons head, "No.No. No," he cried dropping to his knees.
He burnt your body himself, trying to honor you in some way, but it obviously was not enough. You were haunting him, because he had failed you. He crawled to the floor trying to burry his face into your stomach, "I am sorry. I am so so sorry," he sobbed.
You reached down wrapping your fingers around his chin. You were unnaturally cold, and the light from your eyes was now gone, as they resembled something close to black, "No apologies will ever bring me back. All because you chose the usurper over me."
The tears streamed down his face as you smiled, and it did not hit right. It was not the one filled with warmth or even the shy one you would cast him across the hall. This was someone else's smile on a face that resembled you, "Sleep well, my love. I will be back again and again and again until you leave these blasted walls or die here."
And just like that you were gone, leaving him once more, as sleep evaded him and he thought of nothing but you and the guilt that ate away at him.
