Rhaenerys Targaryen found herself living with her brother, his wife, and their young daughter in a small, modest home. They were part of the smallfolk, far removed from the palace and its intrigues.
One evening, as they sat by the fire, Rhaenerys asked her brother, "What day is it? What month? I've lost track of time."
Her brother, a kind and simple man, thought for a moment. "It's the 21st day of the 3rd month. The spring equinox approaches."
Rhaenerys's eyes widened as she calculated the date. She knew that Ser Harwin Strong would die in a fire at Harrenhal on the 21st day of the 3rd month, in the year 120 AC. She felt a chill run down her spine as she realized that it was the same day.
With this knowledge, Rhaenerys knew she had to act fast. She remembered the events of the show, and she knew that Ser Harwin's death would have far-reaching consequences. She was determined to prevent it, to change the course of history.
Rhaenerys's mind racing, she excused herself and stepped outside into the cool evening air. She knew she had to act fast, to find a way to warn Sir Harwin of the danger that awaited him.
With newfound determination, Rhaenerys set off towards the lord's manor, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew it was a long shot, but she had to try. She had to save Ser Harwin, no matter what it took. She remembered a nearby stable and decided to take a horse. She snuck in, untied a strong-looking mare, and mounted it. With a surge of adrenaline, she galloped towards the lord's manor, determined to save Ser Harwin.
As she rode, the wind whipping her hair, Rhaenerys hoped that she would arrive in time to warn Ser Harwin of the fire that would soon engulf him. She urged the mare on, her heart pounding in her chest.
Finally, she had arrived. Rhaenerys reined in the horse and slid off its back, her legs trembling with exhaustion. A gruff-looking guard eyed her warily. "What business do you have here?" he growled.
Rhaenerys took a deep breath and spoke, "I must speak to Ser Harwin at once, it is a matter of life and death." Thank God for all the days she dedicated to learning their accent. Just as he was about to dismiss her, a voice boomed from within the manor, "Let her in! I would hear this tale for myself."
Rhaenerys's heart leapt with hope as the guard stepped aside, allowing her to enter. She found herself in a grand hall, face to face with Ser Harwin Strong himself, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and determination. Ser Harwin's face, etched with concern, softened as he gazed at her. Damn, he's hotter than I imagined.
"Child, what brings you to Harrenhal with such urgency?" he asked, his voice gentle, like a father speaking to his own daughter.
Rhaenerys's eyes locked onto Ser Harwin's, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ser Harwin, I must speak with you alone. It's about your safety."
Ser Harwin's expression turned serious, and he nodded. "Let us walk in the gardens," he said, leading her to a secluded path.
Once they were out of earshot, Rhaenerys's words spilled out in a urgent whisper. "Ser Harwin, I've come to warn you. Someone plans to set fire to the castle, to kill you." Rhaenerys's grip on Ser Harwin's arm tightened.
Ser Harwin's expression turned skeptical, his brow furrowing. "A warning, you say? About a fire? I think you must be mistaken, lass. The castle's defenses are strong, and I have trusted men guarding the walls."
Rhaenerys' urgency seemed to falter for a moment, but she pressed on, her eyes locked onto his. "I'm telling you, Ser Harwin, this is no idle rumor. I have reason to believe it's true. Please, you must listen to me."
Ser Harwin's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a slightly patronizing tone. "I'm listening. But I need more than just whispers and warnings. I need proof, or at least a credible source. Who are you? Who told you this?"
"I am Rhaenerys," she replied, her voice steady. "And my source is... personal. I've had visions, Ser Harwin. Dark and troubling visions of the future. I've seen the castle in flames, and I've seen you fall."
Ser Harwin's expression turned incredulous. "Visions? You expect me to believe that?"
Rhaenerys' gaze intensified. "I expect you to listen, Ser Harwin. I'm just a messenger, but I assure you, the danger is real. You must be cautious."
Ser Harwin's jaw clenched, his mind racing with questions. "I need more than just your word. What can you tell me about this plot?"
Rhaenerys' expression turned solemn. "Only that it's real, Ser Harwin. And that I want to prevent it, not just for your sake, but for Jacerys and Lucerys. They need their father, and I want to ensure they grow up with you by their side. It's tonight, Ser Harwin. The fire will come tonight, under the cover of darkness. You must act quickly!"
Ser Harwin's face set in a determined expression. "I will not wait for the flames to come to me. I will gather my most trusted men, we will prepare a trap for those who would seek to harm me and mine."
Rhaenerys nodded, relief washing over her. "Be careful, Ser Harwin. The enemy may have eyes and ears within the castle walls."
Ser Harwin's eyes scanned the surroundings, his mind racing with strategy. "I will be cautious. But I will not be caught off guard. Tonight, we will catch the traitors in their own trap."
With a nod, Rhaenerys turned to leave. Ser Harwin's voice stopped her. "Wait, child. What..."
But Rhaenerys had disappeared into the night, leaving Ser Harwin to prepare for the danger that loomed ahead.
Ser Harwin's trap was set, and soon, the would-be arsonists were caught. But to his surprise, they were mere pawns, coerced into the plot by a higher authority. The truth was revealed when one of the captives, a young man, begged for mercy.
"The young man's eyes darted wildly as Ser Harwin's grip on his sword tightened. 'Tell me,' Ser Harwin growled, his voice low and menacing. The young man's face contorted in a mixture of fear and guilt. 'Please, Ser Harwin... mercy...' he begged, tears streaming down his face. 'We were just following orders... Lord Larys' orders...' The words hung in the air like a challenge. Ser Harwin's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. 'My own blood?' he whispered, the words like a dagger to his heart."
The young man nodded, tears streaming down his face. "Aye, Ser Harwin... Lord Larys is the one who wants you dead..."
Ser Harwin's grip on his sword tightened, his mind racing with the implications. He knew what he had to do. "Prepare a raven," he ordered. "The order for Larys Strong's execution will be sent to King's Landing, tonight."
The fate of his brother, Larys Strong, was sealed.