I don't know if this will count for the kinktober thing as its about after the sex, but Larys experiencing sub drop for the first time and reader looking after him?
🐌
Hey 🐌! Nearly 2 years and I've finally done it! Sorry if it's not any good, I'm really out of practice.
It happens after a particularly intense scene consisting of Larys being secured by both wrists and ankles (slightly looser restraints around his right ankle so as not to cause him pain.) to the bed while you edge him for what seemed like hours, bringing him so, so close time and time again, only to pull away just as he was about to reach his peak every time.
When you finally give in, he cums so hard you thought he was about to pass out.
You praise him and tell him he did so well for you, that you were so proud of him, that he was perfect for you.
You kiss him then, deep and emotional, before setting to unfastening him from the bed frame.
The first thing that alerts you to things not going as smoothly as you are accustomed to is the quiet sniffling and barely audible whimpers as you carefully untie the ribbons restraining his legs, rubbing each ankle in turn to ease any stiffness.
On hearing his pitiful sounds, you stop what you're doing and look up at him, the sight very nearly breaking your heart:
His eyes were shut tight in a vain attempt to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks as he bit his lower lip to try to muffle the sobs that threatened to escape him.
Straight away, you stopped what you were doing and hurried to sit on the bed near his head, hurriedly unfastening the ribbons tying his hands and cupped his cheek tenderly.
"What's wrong baby?" You asked, more than a little worried that you'd hurt him.
You apologise before you even get a response from him, convinced it was something that you had done, but he shakes his head and opens his teary eyes and looks up at you "You have done nothing wrong. It was so good -" Is all he manages before his voice cracks and he chokes back a sob.
Then ypu realise what was happening and you hae an idea:
You kiss his forehead and reassure him you aren't going far, only to get a cloth to clean him up with, and then you'll be back.
He reluctantly let's you go though, on the promise that when you return, you'll stay with him as long as he needs.
Reluctantly, he lets you leave, and turns onto his side, curling into a fetal position, one arm around his legs, the other on the pillow near his head, his eyes shut tight to try o hold back the tears that still threatened to fall.
**************************
you were not prepared for the pitiful picture before you, Larys' skinny body huddled in a tight ball, his body trembling slightly, though from crying or the cold, it was hard to tell.
Carefully you get him to turn onto his back and clean him up, shushing any small whimpers or sobs with gentle kisses to his forhead or cheeks.
Once he is clean enough for your liking, you discard the cloth and crawl into bed alongside him, pulling him to lie on your chest before bringing the blanket to cover the two of you.
your fingers run through his hairas he nuzzles into you.
that's when he asks in a wavering voice "I'm sorry. You're too good for me. I'm a mess."
his tone tugs at your heart and you wrap yourself around him protectively, "What are you apologising for? this can happen sometimes, sweetheart. You will feel better soon, I promise. I'm not going to leave you, relax sweet thing."
He shifts in your arms, turning to look up at you as if you hung the very stars in the sky, "are you certain?"
"I'm certain." You promise, kissing his head, holding him tightly as he drifts off to sleep.
I had to make another masterlist just for the questions and headcanons
Answering questions, headcanons, etc
Reader's baby is still going to be a Strong?
It’s a game changer that the Reader is Velaryon?
There something between the Reader and Alicent?
Will there be a happy ending for Harwin and Reader? + The closest thing to a happy ending between Harwin and Reader
Does Rhaenyra and Daemon's relationship affect Harwin?
The consequences of Rhaenyra's actions
Reader taking Rhaena unders her wing + Reader wants Baela to inherit Driftmark?
The blacks don't stand a chance against the sea dragon, the master of whispers and the green queen
How Daemon sees Reader
Reader shutting Rhaenyra and Daemon's mouth + Reader being Alicent's sun + Larys being Reader's moon
A Little Bit of Everything (The Velaryon + Reader and Alicent)
Did the court ever suspect that Reader's children are Larys' and not Harwin's?
Rhaenys and Lyonel's reaction to Harwin and Rhaenyra's affair
Is the Velaryon Reader a dragon rider?
The physical appearance of the strong twins
How does the sea dragon affect the relationship between the green children and rhaenyra’s children + Did people suspect the bastardry of Reader's children?
Laenor is such a frigging clown + Rhaenyra lied to Laenor?
The relationship between Rhaenyra and Reader
Velaryons
Headcanons (about Reader, the kids and Rhaenyra)
Corlys's position before the bastard of the children of Rhaenyra
Is Lyonel Strong going to die in the Harrenhal fire?
Nightwing wanting to comfort Reader after Laenor's death
More headcanons of the green children, reader, etc.
More headcanons of Reader and the children + Were Daemon and Reader ever friends?
More of the children and Reader
Me and The Devil (a short edit with Larys and Reader)
Rhaenyra jealous of Alicent + Harwin realizing Reader is the queen's lover
The Manderly house taking an important role in the Dance
Strong Twins Headcanons
Alyn and Baela can go through an enemies to lover's phase?
Baela and Alyn
Corlys finding out that his grandson has the same name as his bastard
Harwin is going to die?
So sea-dragon reader is gonna sleep with Daemon at Laena's funeral...?
Talking about Daemon and Reader
Daemon x Reader edit
Harwin x Reader edit
Did rhaenyra ever saw moments between reader and alicent that made her go "she never was like this with me" ?
Larys as father
Corlys and Sea Dragon edit
AU with Male!Alicent
AU Sea Dragon as Viserys' wife and Alicent as Daemon's
Larys x Sea Dragon edit
Headcanons
Sea Dragon and Daemon edit
Daemon x Sea Dragon edit
Sea Dragon gave alicent a little seashell to make her smile
warnings: obsession, implied murder, gaslighting, abuse of power, incarceration,
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Viserys Targaryen - compelling
The King of the seven Kingdoms Viserys was a man who enjoyed throwing parties, organizing tournaments and making peace.
He was happiest when his family and people were well…and his beloved wife.
Aemma Arryn, his first wife, who had once been the only one in his life to make him happy with Rhaenyra, was now over.
His little Rhaenyra soon grown up with Lady Alicent in the gardens for hours he had to realize that it was time to marry again.
He was the king every party tried to turn his daughters to him but the king had his violet eyes on a lady for a long time.
A lady-in-waiting to his former wife, a flower at court who held back until the dragon approached her.
Viserys beneath all the friendly smiles, the jokes and his fascination with his true home of Valyria was one thing above all…a man with power and a man with power was everything in his world.
He was the blood of the dragon, the head of the family and even without a dragon, as king he had the influence he needed.
She was his and with his peaceful smile he had married her that long spring in King's Landing.
Had flattered her with gentleness, vulnerability and gifts…even though she never had a choice.
Had publicly executed any voices that dared to call his wife a mistake and the age of peace wavered, his allies became uncertain and his small council had more to discuss.
Despite everything, he didn't care, for the first time he became his half-grandfather Maelor Targaryen.
He took a new dragon Vermithor and for his wife the dragoness Dreamfyre, "I know it may seem intimidating darling but now you belong to me she will accept you" he encouraged her.
Viserys stood behind her his one hand placed on her side never gently always with a certain pressure, a pressure that let her know he would not let her go.
His other hand placed on hers gently and warmly as he instructed her to touch Dreamfyre's snout.
They would fly through the air together like Jahaerys and Alysanne they would fulfill the dragon dreams and she would not die with a dragon by both their sides she would have a son and he would keep his wife in the flesh….er would not make the same mistake again.
Her prayers for him to come to the realization that she was not a Targaryen were ignored with a kiss, a warning look or a raise of his voice.
"Forgive me, darling, but you see once you're sitting up it's not so bad, is it?" he asked as she sat on Dreamfyre.
Completely stiff and afraid, giving him a forced smile that satisfied him.
"No-no it's…wonderful so beautiful" she replied and held on tightly to the harness of the dragoness who seemed confused and didn't know why a non-dragonblood was sitting on her.
But all this seemed to be just the beginning of the forced dragon excursions, during which she hid her deadly fear under smiles and gratitude.
The parties and games all for her to make her happy.
She was not Aemma, no, she was something he could make her into.
His perfect Targaryen wife who would fulfill his dragon dreams and he would do anything to keep her happy with fire and blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Corlys Velaryon - taking
The Sea Serpent a legendary merchant, sailor with the blood of ancient Valyria and two dragons in his family.
A man who honored the wealth and influence of the Hightower family and one of the lords and men of the small council.
He was one of the king's most important and powerful allies and had blood that once belonged on the throne.
Above all, he is also a legendary sailor and the old tradition of sailors is not only dedicated to the sea but also to the women he met on the voyage, who he kept in inns or simply took.
Adventure and exotic animals were the sailor's domain, but one day they had been at sea for two years.
The sea serpent longed for a woman, his crew longed for the warm embrace of a woman and perhaps it was in a moment of alcohol or frustration that they headed for the next best island and pulled off a heist, a heist in which he got himself a mermaid.
Her voice softly pouring him a beer minutes before, now yelling at him to let her go as he grabbed her and took her onto his ship.
The captain had finally found the pearl on his journey and he would use this beauty for more than just the night.
"Let me go back to my home!" she protested, trying to get the door of his cabin open, his sweetie had not yet realized that the ship had been at sea again for hours.
A smile escaped him as he approached her and saw her practically throw herself against the door before the wood gave way and she fell to the deck in front of his crew.
"Mermaid, I told you this was your home now," he reminded her as he pulled her up by the arm so she could see the sea, the wood of the ship and his crew.
From then on, she was initially his, locked up like a fish in a box in his cabin, serving him.
But after a few days he let her on deck and gave her small tasks to do, keeping her at work so that she didn't have to think about home.
At night he made her happy by taking her at his own pleasure, making it clear to the crew that she was his.
He tried to teach her his passion for sailing on smaller ships and took her ashore with him, even if she ran in next to him.
"Pearls and shells for a beautiful woman of the water" he praised her and bought her a glittering necklace of the ocean which he put on her.
His hand gripped her chin firmly and demanded a kiss in thanks…in the end she would do what he wanted her to do, he was in charge of her.
At the end of the journey he saw how nervous and energized she became his pretty mermaid probably thought he would take her home.
"You are now a woman of the water and a woman of the household Velaryon my love" he shattered her hopes as he saw tears running down her cheeks.
Salty as the sea which he brushed away and pulled her to him his fingers playing with the necklace.
The necklace with pearls and shells a sign that she was his, his concubine as soon as they returned to Driftmark.
He would deal with Rhaenys and his children had to accept it, but a sea serpent would find a way to wrap itself around his favorite.
To sneak up to her at night and make her feel like she had never left his boat. "I have taken you and you are mine…never forget that" he had said to her that night and gently stroked her cheek.
The same thing he now did every night knowing that she could do nothing but nod.
Agree with him and hide behind her savior when the wrath of the water dragons and the princess came crashing down on her.
Because he always had a hand on her…a protective hand for his property.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Otto Hightower - paranoid
Otto Hightower a man of pride, influence and an old rich house of trade with the great rock tower at Oldtwon.
The brother of the head of the house the hand of King Viserys and with his children Alicent and Gwayne with whom he pursued his own plans that would come to pass in time.
But since the death of Jaehaerys, the leech had attached itself to the new King Viserys, influencing him, drilling him and replacing his own tokens with the green of the Hightower.
The green of the House of Hightower took over more and more slowly but surely…until the day he lost his beloved wife.
His lady wife dead, he had loved her, enjoyed her love, had children…but despite her death after his grief and after seeing that damned grin from the rugged Prince Daemon, the leech felt the Targaryen's poisoned blood for the first time.
Leading his daughter to Viserys, taking his own son to the city to keep an eye on Dameon while the lord himself resorted to a game that would bring him both influence and a woman he had seen long before.
Since trading with the Baratheons his grandchildren were related to the Baratheons, Ser Otto had taken himself a wife of the house.
The blue eyes and the black hair the blood of the stag flowed through her and since his marriage he felt something.
What was at first a mere plaything that could be moved now became something he was afraid to lose.
"I will vow to the gods to protect you my lady" he had told her as he had draped the cloak around her, his hand on hers and kissed her.
She was pretty was the prettiest of the house prettier than the princesses, prettier than the queens she was prettier even than his first wife.
She was his and he would not let him lose her in the upcoming fight for the throne for which the foundations had already been laid with the birth and the years after Aegon's birth his first grandson.
With that came the first dispute and another and another and at the latest when Daemon returned from the Stepstones and his violet dragon eyes settled on the new wife of the Hand, Otto felt his hand on hers.
Jealousy was more poisonous than any poison he had ever used.
It was jealousy that kept him awake at night when he lay next to his beloved doe, his fingers gently playing with strands of her hair, the color green adorning her clothing.
Before the king and the law, she was his, "But what if she isn't? What if something happens?" he asked the questions and watched as she continued to grind fiddly.
While he lost himself more and more in the spiral in which she was seduced by the Targaryen prince night after night.
Dameon was the greatest enemy to himself and his family and the prince was known to stop at nothing.
Especially not when the war was brewing and Otto saw what this conflict was capable of when not only Harrenhal burned but Daemon killed Vaemond in front of everyone and Otto stood in defense of his wife.
"It's done enough dear this is for love and your safety…I will not lose what is mine" he said as he practically fled with her to Oldtown.
She was taken to the tower and even though the rooms were large and the tower encouraged exploration it was her insecurity that clung to the stone as Otto became more paranoid and insecure.
Doubling the guards was just a way of keeping her safe, every meal had to be tasted and he was the only one with the golden key to her room.
He graced her with his presence as often as he could, but in his dark eyes, once soaked with love, there was nothing but obsession and paranoia.
His hands held hers painfully as she looked up at him on the bed and he made sure that no one was here, that there was no flame burning that he hadn't lit himself.
"You are safe here with me in this tower and no dragon or prince will change that I will not allow you to be taken from me by him" he murmured but his gaze seemed to pass through her as he turned with hatred towards the first prince of the realm.
His beloved wife was his and no one would come near her in his paranoid existence no one would harm her as long as his beloved just stayed here.
Even if the dragon fire broke over them she was his and he would rather raise the sword against himself and her than let Dameon even near her for was this not the duty of a man to his beloved wife?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Larys Strong - controlling
House Strong whose then head held the hand of the king for a time, the firstborn son a legendary knight and a member of the Golden Capes with the secondborn son in the shadow - Larys Strong.
Clubfoot as he was called by his enemies and any others who hoped to hurt him, a nickname he was long accustomed to in his role as advisor to the queen and someone who had his insects everywhere to see and hear.
But most of all, he was slowly getting what he wanted…the deaths of some for his own advancement.
The advancement of his own house, and the king of whom he knew that with his connections he could get even more of what he wanted.
The death of his brother and father in the tragic fire made Larys Strong the Lord Strong of his house and the castle the only man with the crest and the one who could now assert that right undisturbed.
So it was that he continued to stay in hiding at the side of the Queen of the Witches, assisting her with the little nasty things and killing his insects off the corpses.
While for all the others he remained the ignorant one with the clubfoot while he realized that the party of the blacks wanted his head soon but for that they had to get it first which is why the lord stayed around the castle…until he found her in his vaults as Lord Confessor and Master of the Whisperers.
He found a pretty butterfly in his cells between his cages. "A sight I don't often see, what beauty has strayed here, deceiver?" he asked as he stood in front of the cell, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.
He knew he was a lady-in-waiting of Rhaenyra who had helped her queen to escape and was captured. So why shouldn't a cripple put something beautiful at his side?
Why shouldn't he also show what a lord had the power to do?
Because he had her life in his hands and she had no choice when he came into the cell, his torturers beside him ready to use the hot iron rods on her.
It didn't take much more than two fingers for her to land the golden brooch of her queen's dragon next to her severed body parts and she swore herself to him.
"You will see I am not a man of cruelty my butterfly…I can be gentle but you know that" he murmured to her as she came into his chambers with bandages wrapped around her two stumps but he had already provided replacements.
She was his, his to dominate and control was something he had always had in one way or another and he would not give that up.
By putting on the golden finger prostheses with the symbol of butterflies and insects, it was just a small sign that she was his.
The clothes that were once black with dragon symbols turned green and matched his color.
He raised his hand from the walking stick to use it to play with a strand of her hair. "Nothing is more beautiful than seeing you" she greeted him when they met, whether at lunch, in the morning or in the garden.
He saw her tense up, her wince when he ran his hand over her golden prostheses and kissed her.
But it didn't matter, he didn't have the blood of hundreds on him to stop using her.
Nothing happened without his command, his look or his word.
The pretty butterfly lady always walked beside him and a meaningless smile graced her lips, her eyes mostly focused on the colorful flowers, especially the black and red colors that signified Rhaenyra's former existence.
Apart from that she was his and Larys put this on show with clothes, gestures and alliances…but there was one thing above all that he would not miss.
One look was enough and his pretty butterfly gave him a kiss and for him it was pure love, love that he had never experienced and it felt like he could laugh at all those who had laughed at him so far.
He had the title of Lord, he had lands and he had his wife who was his in every sense of the word and he would kill anyone in the shadows who would take his darling from his control.
“What is that?” you ask the Lord Confessor. Larys gives you a wry smile.
“That, is a new device I am incorporating into my arsenal,” he replies with a devious grin. “And I would like you to help me test it.”
You find yourself on your hands and knees, skirts pulled up around your waist. You peer over your shoulder and watch as Larys spreads oil across the shaft of the phallus.
“Of course, there will be no preparation for prisoners,” he explains. “And I have different size options for maximum comfort—or discomfort, if need be.”
He pulls some sort of lever out of your vision, and the machine immediately starts plunging in and out of you relentlessly.
Tears blur your vision as you cry out. You had never felt such a rush of pleasure in your whole life. It danced along the border with pain so beautifully. It wasn’t long before your own wetness mingled with the oil.
Larys simply sat to the side, watching you lose yourself in pleasure. His hand slips discreetly beneath his robe.
Larys Strong x female reader ✦ grief/mourning, manipulation
Requested by @sunphyre
Day 12 ✦ 1,400 words ✦ rated all audiences
October Celebration Masterlist
The first time Larys saw her, the woman who would become the center of his focus, the eye of the storm of his obsessions, she was twirling in the gardens of the Red Keep. The soft and airy material of her red dress looked like a poppy dancing in the wind as she swayed to the rhythm of the lute being played to entertain Princess Helaena and her children.
Her feet bare on the green grass, not a care in the world, she danced and laughed as her enchanted audience clapped and laughed along with her. The sight of her slim ankles and dainty feet was so lovely Larys stayed for a while, mesmerized.
She was in the fresh bloom of youth, a fragrant and delicate flower, but she was not his to pluck. She was instead promised to his brother Harwin, the eldest son to the Lord Hand, and heir to Harrenhal.
Larys had heard of her at court before, how women envied her for her beauty and the match her father had arranged for her, and how men desired her, only for the privilege of taking her sweet innocence.
Larys thought that if by some sort of miracle she became his, he would not stop at her innocence.
As the months passed and spring turned into summer, the sun brought a slight tan to her skin, making freckles appear on the bridge of her nose. As her courtship with Harwin was coming to an end, she was spending more and more time with Lord Lyonel and his family, and Larys got to admire those changes in her. He found out her disposition was as sweet and delicate as her figure; her cheeks flushed whenever she was talked to, and her shyness was as endearing to him as it was arousing.
Still, she remained promised to his brother and often expressed her devotion to him, as any dutiful betrothed would. Even as the Princess Rhaenyra gave birth to a third son with dark hair and even darker eyes, and rumors set the castle ablaze, she did not waver.
How perfectly innocent and naive she was, Larys thought.
Tragedy struck her innocence like a bolt of lighting, and in one night she lost everything she had come to hold dear. She lost her betrothed, her future, her position. She lost it all to fire, and as if she could breathe in the ash from across the realm, when Larys came to visit her on a dreary morning, he found her gasping for air, choked by repressed sobs.
“I don’t understand, how could this have happened?” she lamented, one hand resting on her slim throat, as though she could keep her sorrow at bay.
“Surely, you've heard the stories of Harrenhal, my lady,” Larys recounted as he sat across from her, a tray of tea and shortbread biscuits between them. “It was built in hubris by Harren the Black as a monument to his own greatness. Blood mixed into the mortar. It is said to be a cursed place.”
Larys looked at her intensely as she took in his words, trying to compose herself. His little poppy was dressed in black, in a dress that seemed to smother her under its thick and tough fabric. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and even though her maid had tried to hide it with cream and powder, it was obvious she had spent her night crying, causing her skin to be dry and raw.
Even in the grip of grief, she looked beautiful, like a wilting flower waiting for the sun.
“The Gods have been cruel this year,” she finally said with a wavering voice. “I heard the Lady Laena Velaryon has passed.”
“Indeed she has. We are to leave for Driftmark on the morrow,” Larys confirmed, and her teary gaze turned to him, her eyes wide and pleading.
She seemed terribly startled at the news. “Are you leaving as well?”
“As Lord of Harrenhal, it is only natural that I am present to pay my respects,” he reminded her.
She flushed, embarrassed at her own ignorance of court protocols. “Of course, how could I forget,” she tried to laugh, her sharp intake of breath sounding like a stifled sob. A tear made its way down from her eye to her jaw, leaving a track on her powdered cheek.
“Is there something the matter, my Lady?” he asked, falsely innocent. He licked his lip as the tear drop fell on the collar of her dress.
“Oh please, Lord Larys, I wouldn’t want to burden you,” she replied, shaking her head. Larys needed no words to encourage her to open up, and she did. He kept his eyes on her, as though he was captivated by her, attentive to her every word —and he was, but he could not reveal the extent of his attraction, lest he frightened her.
“With you gone, I would be alone here, in the Red Keep,” she said shamefully, twin tears running down her porcelain cheeks as she whispered her confession.
“You are not alone, my Lady,” Larys pressed, his heart beating wildly in his chest. His trap was closing in on her, and she was powerless to stop it, trapped in a web of her own making now that she had made this confession. “Your father is still present at court, is he not?”
“As soon as my period of mourning is over, he will send me home, to marry his cousin,” she replied, and this time her voice broke into a sob. “Please do not think I care more about my fate than the passing of your brother, but I am afraid—”
He covered her hand with his and she trembled. “Dry your tears, my Lady. It is only natural to worry about your prospects and your future,” he said calmly.
“Harwin was a good man,” she insisted. “A man I would have come to love, I am sure of it.”
“And you would have made a fine Lady of Harrenhal, in time,” he reassured with a smile.
Larys allowed the title to float in the air above them for a moment, and his heart soared when he saw the idea morph in her eyes, a glimmer of something akin to hope, overshadowed by shame. She blinked rapidly as though to erase the idea from her mind, but it would not go now. She was irrevocably trapped, and she had been the one to spin this web.
“I may have a proposition, one you will certainly find unsavory,” he started, then stopped himself, lowering his eyes. He waited a few seconds of stilted silence before lifting his gaze to hers again. There was a hopeful look on her face, her eyes bright with expectation, her cheeks flushed with curiosity.
“Please, do tell me, Lord Larys,” she said, but her voice was no louder than a murmur. Under his palm, her hand was gripping the fabric of her dress tightly.
“As Lord of Harrenhal, it is now expected of me to take a wife, lest my father’s line die,” he said slowly, and the trembling intensified.
“Yes it is,” she whispered fervently, and he knew he had her eating out of his hand, like a starving dove at the end of winter, eager for the renewal of spring. He could break her now, crush her hopes and shatter her heart, if only he did not desire her so much.
“I would take you as my lady wife, if it would secure your station and relieve you from the burden of an unwanted match,” he said slowly and cautiously, allowing himself to look straight into her eyes as he did, much more directly than propriety allowed.
Her intake of breath was loud in the quiet room, and Larys immediately retracted his suggestion, removing his hand from hers. “I am sorry if this offended you, my lady, I know this is not—”
“You did not offend me, my Lord,” she exclaimed, her hand reaching for his where it was now resting on his knee. “I would be honored, if you were to take me as your wife,” she said tearfully, a contained smile stretching her lovely mouth. “I would be forever grateful.”
“You were promised to my brother. I am simply honoring the agreement between your father and mine,” he said calmly as victory was beating furiously in his chest. “And it would be a shame to deprive the court of such a beautiful flower.”
I just adore the idea of Larys loving/obsessing over his innocent little wife. 🌸
No one, absolutely no one, can figure out how someone as sweet as you fell in love with Larys Strong. Even he can't make sense of it, really. You're so pretty and pure, all dressed up in pastels and pearls. But you're also curious and kind with a love for flowers, three things that brought you to Larys in the end.
It started with kindness.
At a ball, you noticed Larys sitting alone and wished to keep him a little company. Despite hearing about how odd and quiet he was, it was not at all difficult to start a conversation with the man, though he insisted that you did not need to do such a thing.
"You should dance, my lady, and enjoy yourself."
"I already am! None of the men here are half as good at conversation as you are, Lord Strong."
And his heart flutters! Just like that, you spent the whole night talking and laughing (the man has a wicked sense of humor and loves to make you giggle). And it isn't long until you seek one another out, visiting the library and gardens together.
He's absolutely charmed by you, this gentle and lovely lady. Of course he'd heard of your beauty before but it was your heart and mind that truly impressed him.
You're kind to everyone, even servants, a gentle demeanor about you.
He notices the way you quietly care for everyone, taking extra steps to make others smile and expressing your love softly. Always smiling and laughing, a never ray of sunshine.
And you're far more intelligent then most know, loving to learn and read. Luckily, he's a well-read man and can talk with you for hours about anything at all, or simply read in silence with you. Curious, you always seem to be interested in knowing something and perhaps that helped bring you to him.
In the end, it was the garden that brought you together.
Ever observant, Larys noticed you love for flowers. Not to be plucked from the earth, but to grow them and cherish them.
You know them by name, how to care for them and allow them to grow. There's nothing you love as mush as walking through the gardens with Larys, settling on a little bench together and just enjoying the beauty of it. At times you take his hand in yours and, oh, his heart is going wild within his chest!
You told him that, in your family's home, you'd had your own garden and cared for it yourself. But when you'd been sent away to court, you'd been forced to leave it behind and your brother's wife, you'd later learned, had dug it all up.
"That's all I really want...books and sunshine and a little bit of earth."
And that is exactly what he gives you!
The day you become Lady Strong (his wife, his bride, his one and only), anything you want is yours. Books and gowns and pearls, anything and everything.
But the garden is your very favorite gift.
He makes it for you in secret, while you're preparing for the wedding. It's just like the one you loved so much (but much, much bigger), with it's high walls of gray, almost silvery stone and a secret door hidden beneath the flowering ivy.
Only you and Larys have the keys.
There's a stooped willow tree with a silver swing hanging from it, a little pond with lotuses, statues scattered here and there. Together you grow all of your favorite flowers and hide away from the world, content to simply love one another.
Little Things:
🌸 The wedding is a grand affair. Though your beauty isn't what Larys loves best about you, he cannot deny that he's quite smug about it. For years, everyone spoke of Lady Y/N, the primrose, your beauty and the man who could claim it a subject of gossip. And he wants the whole damn world to know that it was him, Larys Strong, that won your heart!
🌸 The Strong colors are red, blue, and green so he likes you in the pastel shades of those colors, done up all pretty in pearls and lace and silks.
🌸 He doesn't care about children one way or the other but, if you want them, he'll happily provide you with as many as you like! Larys is a loving father nonetheless but he does have a clear favorite: a little girl who looks and acts exactly like you.
🌸 You have a love for romance novels and he finds that out after you're married...and though he teases you a little, he's more then happy to make some fantasies come true.
🌸 The first time he feels handsome is because of you. You have a way of making him feel bolder and better then he truly is, handsome even!
🌸 You don't notice how anyone who upsets you suffers misfortune nor do you notice the accidents and tragic deaths...how could you ever notice any of it when you're so happy? It's easy for Larys to manipulate you, so sweet about it, and you love him too much to doubt his word.
