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msmorningstaarr · 4 months

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let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

ao3 | masterlist

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;

a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody

You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.

His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.

“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.

“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.

“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.

“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.

“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.

“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.

“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”

The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.

“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.

Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”

“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.

“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”

“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.

“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.

“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.

“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.

“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”

“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.

“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.

“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.

“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.

You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.

“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.

“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.

“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”

“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.

By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.

“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”

You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.

“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.

“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.

You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.

As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.

When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.

“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.

“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”

And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.

“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.

The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.

“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.

The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.

“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.

“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.

With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.

Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.

“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.

Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."

And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."

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aelenavelaryon · 5 months

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Robert Baratheon x Reader (pt.2)

Summary: in which the Queen gets her revenge on her husband

The return of dragons came to a surprise for the realm. It was unexpected yet a blessing, especially for Rhaenyra. Finally, dragons returned to the world. Robert was not on board with having them in King's Landing at first but after watching Rhaenyra be happy after the loss of their child he agreed. Robert, despite marrying her without love came to enjoy her company as the two enjoyed making children.

Rhaenyra choose to let her dragons roamed free in a place where they were all away from people, to avoid harming innocent people. Prince Daemon was born in the year 283, near the end of the year. His brother Orys came days after his first name day in 284. In the year 286 came the twins, Aemon and Aemond. Just a year later in 287 she lost a child, it was then that Dragons were reborn.

By 290, Rhaenyra's dragons had grown a lot. The year prior they disappeared and when they returned they were the size of an adult dragon. So, for the first time in centuries a Targaryen finally took to the skies on dragonback. Balerion, the dragon she rode flew her to a part of the Keep that was abandoned and where he kept dragons eggs.

Rhaenyra brought Dragon Keepers to the Keep to help with the dragons and their eggs. The eggs, which were enough to give to each one of her children and brother, were kept warm and ready in the children's room. Finally, after five years of trying for a daughter, a girl finally came. Well, more like two. Rhaena and Helaena came during the summers of 290. By then, her children all had dragons eggs. Prince Daemon had claimed Caraxes, while his brother's hatched their eggs. Orys named his Eros. Aemon named his Moonfyre and Aemond named his Meraxes. Princess Rhaena and Helaena's dragon eggs hatched the same day of their birth.

King Robert threw a feast in honor of their first name day. By then, queen Rhaenyra had given him four sons and two daughters. Princess Rhaena was said to be as wild and defiant as her mother in her youth. Rhaena had the Targaryen hair and eyes, while her twin, princess Helaena had black hair and blue eyes like his father but she was as quiet and calm as her late grandmothers, queen Rhaella and Lady Cassana Baratheon. Robert was a decent king who took the input of his queen. They had a quiet a decent marriage.

Since the day they married Robert kept to his wife's and his own chambers. He slept with no other woman that was not his wife. Some had said he changed for the better and Eddard Stark could attest to that. Rhaenyra's life was good. She had no worries. Everything was just perfect.

The news reached her a few weeks later. Robert Baratheon had slept with Cersei Lannister or so she claimed. Cersei was a girl of three and twenty. She was yet to be married as her father hadn't found her a good match yet. Rhaenyra when she heard said nothing. Robert even thought she hadn't heard but she had. She knew, thanks to her little birds that Jaime was Cersei's lover. So, her plan was to take Jaime from Cersei. It was her goal to make him loyal to her.

Her plan began the very next day. She had asked Robert for a new guard. Stating that with six children it was better for them and her to have extra security. The king agreed. She smiled and acted as if nothing was happening. When Cersei was forced to move the keep by her father's order, Rhaenyra was forced to confront her husband.

Robert entered their shared chambers. "Nyra" she looked away. Rhaenyra was two and twenty. She had given her husband six children. She never complained nor did she cause him any problems. She simply did her duty, ever the dutiful her mother used to say. "I have never asked anything of you, nor have I ever caused you trouble or any problems. I have stood by you for the last seven years. I married you despite everything. I am no saint, nor have I ever been. I brought a son into a marriage that was not yours. You loved him and took care of him as if he was your own. And in return I gave your four sons with your blood and two daughters with your blood" there was a brief silence. "Where our children not enough?" she asked. "Was I not enough?" she asked.

Rhaenyra had never been insecure. How could she? She was a Targaryen, their beauty seemed to be god like and now, with her dragon being a god seemed far more possible than before. "I love you, Robert. But I will not be the person you treat like a common whore. If Cersei gives you a bastard child I will give you one too. And if she gives you another so will I" she said. Robert was too stunned to speak. She gave him on chance to speak before she left their shared chambers, Arthur and Jaime following behind.

Rhaenyra knew Cersei's greatest love was Jaime, and she rarely even allowed him to wonder far from her. Jaime didn't mind, watching over her gave him some sort of relief as he felt guilty for killing her father years back. He also wanted to keep her safe as he could not keep Elia and her children. Jaime was also avoiding his sister, as much as she would try to find him but he would walk the other way or ignore her pleas to talk. Over the months the good relationship between the queen and king perished in the blink of an eye. King Robert returned to his drunken and whoring ways.

Cersei Lannister gave birth to a son who she named Joffrey Baratheon, a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be all his father but the eyes. A year later, in the year 292, queen Rhaenyra gave birth to a son, a boy she named Rhaegar Targaryen and a daughter who she named Rhaella. The boy had blonde white hair. His eyes were the same eyes of princess Alyssa Targaryen, wife of Baelon Targaryen. One green eye and purple. Her daughter, princess Rhaella had a her grandmother's looks. Ser Jaime Lannister was the first one to hold his two children. A little princeling he used to call him and his little baby girl. Jaime and Rhaenyra were the ones who picked the names.

Robert knew but he said nothing as the guilt of returning to his old habits returned. Prince Jacaerys came four years after his sisters, then, a year after him came Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra had always loved those names and had always wanted to name one of her sons like them. Prince Jacaerys had dark brown hair and purple eyes, his brother Lucerys was just like his brother. Queen Rhaenyra bore thirteen children at the short age of thirty. Her last two children were girls. Daughters. Visenya and Daenerys, daughters of Ser Arthur Dayne.

Eddard Stark never married, instead he served his queen Rhaenyra his entire life. And of course he took care of their two sons. Ned had became her closest companion alongside Arthur and Jaime Lannister. She had no other allies at court but them. At least, she didn't trust anyone else but them. Cersei gave Robert three more children. Tommen, Myrcella and Joanna but they were known as bastards since they were not married.

On the queen's name day, a thirtieth name day celebration was made in her honor. Every house in the realm attended, including Dorne, Driftmark and the North. By then, Prince Jaehaerys was nearly six and ten, Daemon was five and ten, Orys three and ten, Aemon and Aemond were one and ten, Helaena and Rhaena were eight, Rhaegar and Rhaella were nearly six, Jacaerys was four, prince Lucerys three and his sisters had just turned one.

Queen Rhaenyra, despite birthing thirteen children looked far better than most, she was grateful, she also took care great of her figure, she wanted to preserve herself as much as she could. Robert knew that seven of those children where not his. Jaehaerys had been claimed as a Targaryen despite Tywin's insistence to keep him as a bastard. Rhaenyra did not wish for her son to bear the name Baratheon or Stark. Brandon had written to her often wanting to know about his son but he not once had asked for the boy to visit him nor to be claimed as a Stark. She knew Catelyn did not like the idea of Brandon's bastard sons being in their home and possible taking Robb's birthright.

During the Queen's name day celebration things are said and revenge is plotted. They say when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground. Queen Rhaenyra is going to win, no matter what. The question is, will she succeed or will she fail?

#aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #robert baratheon #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #arthur dayne #rhaegar targaryen #ned stark #brandon stark

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

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A Lion's Vow

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader

Warnings: canon character death

Words: 7251

Summary: This game the both of you played was your only real entertainment in the mess that was the Red Keep. Knowing it’s true nature, your father attempted to keep you close to his side. Reminding you not to trust anyone easily, especially those that belonged to the House of the Lion.

“What are you up to today, Lady Stark?”

You whip around, long dark hair swishing from the movement and instantly plaster a cheesy smile once you see it’s Jaime Lannister himself. “Whatever are you talking about Ser Jaime?” This game the both of you played was your only real entertainment in the mess that was the Red Keep. Knowing it’s true nature, your father attempted to keep you close to his side. Reminding you not to trust anyone easily, especially those that belonged to the House of the Lion.

He would not approve if he knew of the interaction between you and the Kingslayer.

Humoring you, Jaime cocks an eyebrow suspiciously. “Looks like you’re up to something.”

Posing a hand to your chest, you gasp and feign hurt. “Me? I am the good Lord Eddard Stark’s daughter. There is no mischievous. bone in my body, Ser.”

Jaime’s lips curl fiendishly. “Oh we both know how false that is. Your father would be disappointed if he discovered you tried to lie to someone in the Kingsguard.”

Ned did instill a strong sense of truth and justice in all of his children. Often he would drone on to how powerful the truth was and to live an honest life.

This was harmless lying though. Jaime knew it to be all part of your fun.

With a roll of your eyes, you cluck your tongue. “What we should really be talking about is why you aren’t doing your job. Shouldn’t you be guarding the king and his imperious family?”

Unconsciously you walk next to him, resuming your gentle stroll with Jaime. His armor makes clattering noises as he moves. White coat billowing in the breeze that lazily rolled through King’s Landing; an overall lovely day made better by the Lannister knight by your side.

“There are six others protecting them. Doubt they’ll miss me for an hour or two.” Jaime’s voice grew distant when his duties were brought up, l;Ike he didn’t want to think about it. Not when he was with you.

“Aren’t you the best swordsmen in all of the Seven Kingdoms?” Teasingly, you boost his ego just a little bit and earn a broad smile from his handsome face.

“Won’t argue that.” He comments with a roll of his shoulders causing you to laugh at his outlandish display. “Even someone as amazing as me needs a break though.”

That’s how you really got to know him. Not that much after first arriving did you stumble upon Jaime during one of his breaks. He’d been relaxing on the grass, back pressed against the trunk of a tree, with his sword laying upon his lap. You and Arya had escaped your septa and were running around the keep gleefully. There were many hidden doors and stairs that you and your youngest sister enjoyed exploring.

You felt after that interaction, Jaime purposefully planted himself there since it was near the tower of the Hand of the King.

If anyone was with you, he would merely offer you a nod and a small smile. When alone, he spoke to you. Small conversations here and there until you both started to linger together for longer periods of time. While most times he carried himself like an arrogant bastard, you got to know the other side of this infamous man. He loved to tease and be playful.

You enjoyed your sister’s company but it was a breath of fresh air to have finally made a local connection in the Red Keep and not feel so isolated. How wild life was to make that connection in Jaime Lannister. Brother to the queen and the slayer of the Mad King. He was a legend walking on two legs.

Your fatrher’s worries were never too far from your mind though. After a few days as Hand of the King, Ned warned you of the green eyed lions and how they could not be trusted. Jaime may have liberated the Seven Kingdoms, but now he is condemned for the act of killing Aerys.

Shaking off the echo of Ned’s words, you gaze up at the tall trees that lined both sides of the cobbled walkway. Small white flowers flutter in the breeze like specks of snow. Home sickness prods at you not for the first time.

“My sister Arya is learning how to use a sword. By some Braavosi.” You lightly tell him, waiting for his reaction. Uncommon was it for a woman to learn how to fight, you knew your father wasn’t happen that Arya was interested but found her an excellent instructor nonetheless. Even your septa and Sansa regarded Arya with disdain after that.

Jaime wasn’t phased by this information. He continues to smile and hums. “She is a feral child. It’s not surprising. Just one look at her and you can see the Stark direwolf. You didn’t want to join her?”

Instantly you remember Robb, Jon and Theon teaching you the basics of how to use a sword once it was decided that Ned would be leaving to the Crownlands. They were understandably worried about your safety and took it upon themselves to sneak you out of your chambers late in the night to show you. You protested in the beginning. Robb begged you though so you caved in.

“Because not all men will act like chivalrous knights.” Robb had told you. This wasn’t just for you, it was so you’d be able to better protect Sansa and Arya.

“No. . . No, I’m not one for violence.” Images of bloody direwolves flash in your mind. A lump develops in your throat as you try to banish them. Your own wolf, Storm, had escaped with Nymeria. Lady was their sacrifice. Feeling like it was your duty, you bore witness to your father executing poor Lady under the whim of that damned Joffrey. It had truly pained him to do so. You would never forgive Joffrey or Cersei for forcing this brutal act upon your father. “I never want to wield a blade.”

Jaime stops, addressing you with a soft and understanding expression. “Hopefully you’ll never have to, Lady Stark.”

"What a surprise, Ser Jaime and the Lady Stark." came the chilling voice of the queen, Cersei Lannister.

Dread made you put a distance between yourself and Jaime. "Your Grace." You detested Cersei. Still, you were the daughter of a warden of the Seven Kingdoms. You still maintained court etiquette and gave her a low curtsy.

Her bright green, cat-like eyes regard you with reservation. Regal chin tilted up, her attention moves to her brother who also gives her a perfectly acted bow. "Pray tell what the two of you were doing alone?" Behind her are two ladies-in-waiting hiding behind their hands as they whisper conspiratorially. No doubt there would be a bit of gossip to be produced from this interaction. Flanked behind them are three guards. All wore the insignia of the Lannisters.

That's the last thing you or your family needed was speculation involving the Starks.

"I bumped into the Lady Stark all by her lonesome. Figured I should escort her back to her father's keep. I'm sure Ned will be missing her." Jaime comes up with the lie just as easily as he would breathe.

"Is that so." Cersei's voice was flat in reply. She didn't buy any of what her twin told her but would not reprimand him in public. You hope you didn't get Jaime into too much trouble but second guessed yourself as to why he would get in trouble. There was no rule or vow that forbade him from speaking to you. In the eyes of others, he was doing the chivalrous thing that everyone expects from a knight.

Expelling your own trepidation, you force a pleasant smile to the golden queen. Sweet syrup laced your tone. "It is, Your Grace. Apologies if I unexpectedly detained Ser Jaime."

Eyes flick from you to her brother before she clasps her ringed hands in front of her. "Of course. Well, Ser, finish escorting the Lord Stark's daughter and get back to your main priority, protecting the king."

Jaime's smile is full of charm as he nods. "Yes, Your Grace."

Once Cersei and her squadron went around the corner, you and Jaime started a fit of giggling.

"She is not happy." Jaime chuckles with a shake of his head. "My sister has always been a temperamental thing. She hasn't changed one bit since childhood."

"I can't imagine Cersei as a child." You comment dryly as you and Jaime change your course to the Tower of the Hand. To you, Cersei may as well have sprung from her mother a full grown woman. Childhood was reserved for innocence which you doubt Cersei ever was.

Jaime smiles. "Even she was small and defenseless once upon a time. But she was always regal and knew her value. That has never changed."

The way his tone was so tender when he spoke fondly of Cersei made something ugly in you take wing. It hissed and spat venom making your insides twist and contort with bitterness.

Of course he loved his sister. It was natural to love your sibling, but to love one that was so foul like Cersei. . . This was unthinkable to you.

He was quick to catch your sudden silence and the subtle furrow of your brow. His smile falls. The tension between your two families started when Jaime was found sitting on the Iron Throne after killing Aerys. Your father found him there once his forces had finally stormed King's Landing. From there, Ned knew the Lannisters should never be trusted.

"I'm truly sorry for what she did to your sister's direwolf." He whispers and you can detect the genuine regret. "A mother's love is blind and irrational at times. Still. . . the wolf shouldn't have been killed. I can't tell her the truth, that she's spoiled Joffrey rotten. Not like she would listen to me anyway."

You toe a rather large pebble that was in your path off to the side. Anything so you wouldn't have to look at Jaime. The backs of your eyes burn, a warning that if he spoke anymore about Lady, tears would fall. "I'm just happy Nymeria and Storm were able to get away. Even if I can't have her by my side anymore, at least she's still alive."

Danger permeated the atmosphere in the Red Keep. This unnerved Jaime even more than the skittish attitude of (y/n). Since the death of King Robert Baratheon, the Starks had begun to act differently. This included the eldest daughter (y/n). Jaime barely saw her anymore and when he did, she was personally escorted by a few of her father’s bannermen. A solemn expression drawn on her face as she hadn’t even noticed Jaime off on the sidelines.

The death of his close friend took it’s toll on Ned Stark and caused much friction between the Hand of the King and the capitol. And according to Cersei, he’d started poking around things he shouldn’t be. The implication being that he might find them out soon. This in particular caused Jaime worry. Did Ned divulge his findings to (y/n)? She seemed to be his confidant in King's Landing and he revered his eldest daughter. That could explain why she'd been avoiding him for weeks on end.

On top of it all, Tyrion was recently captured by Catelyn Tully on the accusation that he had some part in the attempted murder on not just Bran, but herself as well. Great strife was the result causing quite the headache for Lord Tywin and Lord Ned. The new King Joffrey was definitely using this to his advantage as he drank in the chaos and animosity of the two great houses.

Each day, Jaime's concern rooted deeper into him for (y/n). A premonition perhaps had been a dream he'd have of a direwolf being beheaded.

Then came the arrest.

Those who swore their loyalty to Joffrey and House Lannister hunted down bannermen of the northern lord. Cersei, acting quickly within the hour, had already obtained Sansa Stark as a hostage. The auburn haired young lady was locked up in her rooms where she had been accosted.

"You can't let Joffrey do this." Jaime hissed to his sister who was leisurely drinking an elegant glass of blood red wine. "You need to release Ned and Sansa. . . Wait, where are (y/n) and Arya?"

She arched a golden brow. Why was he so concerned about them? Slowly Cersei sets down her glass. "Men have been sent out to retrieve them. They will be locked with the other sister."

He felt something tighten in his chest at the thought of (y/n) in chains like her father. Had they not suffered enough?

"Sit, Jaime." Patting the chair next to her, Cersei couldn't fathom why her twin was acting so riled up. He paced back and forth like he was the caged animal. Did he not realize that they were relatively free now? Their son was finally king and she, the queen mother. All the Seven Kingdoms were in the control of the Lannisters now.

Jaime couldn't though. Couldn't sit down and wait to hear of the other two sisters.

When was the last time he experienced true panic? If this was it, well, he didn't miss it. The fate of (y/n) made him feel panic. Gods, he had grown so attached to her in a short amount of time.

"Jaime."

Impatiently he looked at his sister. His beautiful, cruel sister. His first and only lover.

"I have to go."

She called after him as he fled. From windows he caught glimpses of soldiers and knights alike dashing all over the place. The search for the last two Stark sisters seemed to prove to be a difficult one.

He began his own frantic pursuit of them. Hoping that he could find both of them in time. Then what? Helping them to escaping would be in direct betrayal of not just the throne but Cersei as well. He would be an oath breaker. A crime like this would be cause for his execution.

Death did little to scare him.

Convicted with his decision, Jaime perhaps for the first time prayed to anyone who would listen to him that he would find (y/n) before anyone else did.

You didn't see where Arya had dashed off to. While you were worried for your sister, it was the least of your concerns at the moment. You were running for you life. Complete confusion drove your flight instincts.

Yesterday, Ned had told you and your sisters that he planned to ship all three of you back to Winterfell. Sansa had been bereft, not wanting to leave her betrothed. This sudden news was alarming to you. Fear had begun to control your father since Robert's death. You saw it in the way he gazed at you and your sisters.

Wanting to take such a burden off his shoulders, you'd gone to Ned in his private quarters to find out what was going on. He was more inclined to tell you the truth than the younger ones.

He didn't tell you though. Ned was determined to keep whatever worries to himself.

Maybe if he had told you, you wouldn't be running around the Red Keep like a frantic idiot. Where was there for you to hide? You were in enemy territory. There was nowhere safe for you. The bannermen who normally guard you had been slaughtered right before your eyes. Their blood still stained your face and gown. Such had been the bloodshed that caused you to freeze and watch the whole thing. Until Lannister guards started advancing toward you.

Blindly running for your life, you try to conjure up all of the hidden doorways you and Arya had discovered. One was in the bedchambers of the Hand. But that area was most likely surrounded. You couldn't risk it. That's where you had seen Arya being accosted alongside her Braavosi mentor.

Unconciously your feet were running toward the godswood of the Keep. You didn't realize it until you saw the all too detectable face on the trunk of a large oak tree. It may not have been a weirwood, but you knew from that solemn face that you were in the godswood.

Between thick, white tree trunks, you sought refuge in something familiar. You hid under foliage and attempt to calm your mind enough to think of a plan. The godswood looks out onto Blackwater River. A river that stretched through the near entirety of Westeros as well as leading to Blackwater Bay.

Debating which way was more optimal, the fast crunching of leaves and grass alert your ears to someone else entering the godswood.

You further hid into the shrubs, heart racing.

The intruder stops just a few feet away from your hiding spot. Leather clad feet idle, a blonde head swiveling this way and that. There was no armor but you'd recognize Jaime even when he was in civilian clothes. His sword swayed on his hip.

"(y/n)?"

Nearly sobbing out your relief, you topple over and out of the brush; startling Jaime. He slides onto his knees and gathers you in his arms. Spotting the blood on your face and clothes, you see a coldness overcome his face.

"I-It's not mine." You quickly tell him and that severe expression dissipates into worry. "What's going on?! I don't understand!"

"Your father has been arrested on charges of treason." He hastily explains while helping you get to your feet. "We need to get you out of here."

You shake your head. "My sisters-"

"Cersei already has Sansa detained. There's no news of Arya. We don't have a lot of time to get you out of the city." Jaime tells you, pleading in his voice. Still you kept shaking your head, insisting that you had to help your sisters.

Maybe it was the trauma from what you had witnessed that made you so adamant. Jaime was right, you were aware of that and how you should heed his words. Abandoning them to Cersei and Joffrey though?

Reading your mind, Jaime holds your hands. Striking green eyes crinkle and tell you of his own unease. Vocally he would not beg you to leave with him. You read it on his face. Even if you wanted to, it was not feasible to save your sisters.

You let Jaime lead you out of the godswood. He had you cover your head and yourself with his white cloak that he had torn off his armor before going to look for you. You tuck away your thick sections of dark hair under the white cloth.

The Old Gate, despite it being quite the walk from Aegon's High Hill, was the best way out. "There are secret tunnels all through the capitol."

"I know." You say and his brow raises. "Arya and I did some snooping around the Keep and found a few of them. It's difficult to navigate the tunnels themselves though."

"Ah, so that's what you were really up to." Jaime grins your way.

You return his grin with a beaming one that could be considered prideful.

Jaime said he knew a few of the tunnels but not all. One, if he could follow it correctly, led out to an opening in Flea Bottom.

Traversing the labyrinth of tunnels, Jaime kept you close to his side. The two of you spoke softly. The sound of your echoing voices still bounce around you. He tells you what exactly was happening. Ned being accosted by Lannister bannermen. The charge was treason for attempting to usurp King Joffrey and take his birthright away from him. Obviously it was a load of hog shit.

An itch in the back of your brain kept going back to that last conversation you had with him. You’d caught him flipping through page upon page in a rather large book. Grave lines shadow his features. It hadn’t been the first time you had spotted him in such a state. What had he been reading?

Like wildfire though the news of Ned’s arrest had already spread through half of King’s Landing. By the time you and Jaime had resurfaced in a dirty alley, there were scores of City Watch soldiers patrolling the streets.

Both of you kept your heads down on the off chance anyone might recognize you. Venturing onto the streets, Jaime makes sure to have a secure grip on your arm so neither of you are separated.

The amount of soldiers congregating toward the direction of the Old Gate didn’t bode well to either of you.

“What do we do if we can’t get through the Old Gate?” You whisper. You felt sick to your stomach with anxiety.

Jaime keeps his eyes ahead. “One way or another, I’m getting you out of the city and taking you to your mother and brother. I may have to use some unsavory methods though.”

“But-“

He pulls you aside and stares at you. “Do you trust me, (y/n) Stark?”

You let your apprehension seep onto your face. Why was he doing this? He had nothing to gain but everything to lose.

Then in the middle of broad daylight, he gets down on one knew and bows his head low. “I, Ser Jaime Lannister, make this oath to you, (y/n) Stark, that I will get you back to your family safely. I will honor this oath and defend you with my life.”

Getting selfconcious with the attention you might draw, you urge him to get back up. “Okay okay!!” You hiss. “Get up! I trust you!”

His crooked grin lightens the severity of the situation. When he gets back up, Jaime holds out a hand to you. Gingerly you lace your fingers with his; relishing in the roughness of his callused hands. You did trust him, well, you wanted to trust him. No matter what your father claimed about the Lannisters, you at least wanted to trust this one.

Thinking back to Ned's warning, you feel a lump in your throat as Jaime leads you through the dirty streets of Flea Bottom. "They're going to kill him, aren't they."

Jaime's hand tightens on your's. "A trial will be held for him. There is a proposition to be made for him most likely."

Joffrey was in power now. A trial under Joffrey's jurisdiction could hold no justice for your father. You felt it. Whatever Jaime may have been told could go right out the window when the trial actually happens.

You look back to the red structure of the Keep. Jaime could give you no other words of comfort. Maybe he was thinking the same thing you were. He's acknowledged the depravity of Joffrey many times before. He had to know that much like with Lady, he would order the death of Ned Stark for even posing a threat to his reign.

The Old Gate was indeed riddled with heavy patrol. No one was permitted to leave the city unless they had written consent from the crown. Many having been turned away skulked back to wherever their living quarters were.

Jaime analyzed the situation while keeping you under his arm.

"Ser Jaime?" A gold cloak squints his eyes when he spots you and Jaime lurking around the gatehouse. You feel Jaime's body tense and he subtly pulls your hood over your face a little more. "What a surprise to see you out here." The man eyes you suspiciously but looks back to Jaime. He was timid in front of the Kingslayer which served a good purpose.

Squaring his shoulders, Jaime puts on an air of self-importance. "Yes, considering the arrest of the Lord Stark, I have been sent out by the king himself to check the security of the gates. They're worried that a Stark loyalist may try to escape." He explained his clothes as attempting to blend in and not cause more of a stir in the city.

"Y-Yes. Of course."

They pass by a few others as Jaime sits you down inside of the gatehouse. A warm fire crackled in a hearth. The men who had been occupying the inside were promptly forced out by Jaime and the gold cloak that was attending him.

Jaime leans down to whisper in your ear. "Stay here until I come back. Don't speak to anyone and keep your hood drawn down. I'll be back in a few minutes." he promised.

You nod and anxiously watch him leave. The entirety of your time by yourself in the guards' room, the pounding of your blood filled your ears and your hands shake. Jaime said that he might have to use some unsavory methods in order to smuggle the both of you out. Somehow you knew that meant killing anyone who opposed him.

Suspicions were confirmed when you hear a few close by screams, Jaime came back in to retrieve you after fifteen minutes. He was holding his sword in one hand and motioning for you with the other. Blood glints off his blade.

The old rusty gate was lifted up a few inches from the ground. A dead sentry sat propped up against the wall. You promptly avert your gaze when you caught sight of bright red across his throat.

Crawling underneath the opening, both you and Jaime book it into the open fields outside of the city. Both of you kept low to the ground until the city walls were but speck behind you.

From his pack that Jaime brought with him, he pulls out an expertly drawn map. "Alright, it will take us several days to reach Riverrun. Here's the thing though, the north will not be taking too kindly to the arrest of their warden. I'm guessing once the news reaches them, your brother will call upon his bannermen to march to King's Landing. Your mother is possibly still in the Eyrie with Tyrion. The track to the Eyrie is too far and dangerous. Your grandsire should be able to house you until either your brother or mother come."

There was so much to take in that you were quiet for a while.

Frowning while examining the map, your eyes trail from where Jaime had pointed to your position. You eye the territory of the Riverlands, remembering that Tywin Lannister had planted a small army near your grandsire's home. "What about your father?"

His lips purse. "I'll deal with that if it comes to it." Jaime rolls the map back up and puts it away. "We'll use the rest of the evening and night to travel to the God's Eye and recoup there. I hope you're ready for the trek."

You bend over to tighten the laces of your boots in affirmation.

By the time they reached the shores of the great lake, (y/n) collapsed on the ground. She'd laid out the white cloak Jaime had given her and passed out soon after.

Late at night, God's Eye lake appeared to be filled with black ink. Across the water Jaime barely made out the outline of the Isle of Faces that was right in the middle of the lake.

Jaime took his place right next to the sleeping (y/n) and drew the edge of the cloak over her body. Her lips were parted as she slept.

He'd forsaken his own family for her.

If forced to do it again, he would. Jaime was her sworn sword now. His loyalty lay with her.

By himself though, he allowed his mind to think of Cersei. For most of his life, he had clung to her. She was the very reason he was in the Kings guard so he wouldn't have to marry anyone.

From childhood he revered his older sister who he often compared to the Maiden. After getting to really know (y/n) though, that image was morphed into the true reality of Cersei's character. Much like with their own brother Tyrion, Cersei had been tactfully cruel to the Stark sisters. She followed the whims of Joffrey blindly, as only a mother could. Jaime did feel sorry for (y/n)'s two younger sisters. There had been no time to even think of rescuing them too. He'd been too focused on (y/n). She was his priority.

Deciding to keep watch for the night, Jaime kept his ears trained to his surroundings and his eyes fixed on the stillness of the lake.

The sun crept up into the sky not too long after. With the rise of the sun, (y/n) stirred and opened her gray eyes. They flutter so prettily that Jaime is forced to avert his gaze. He'd once heard Robert mention how (y/n) was like a prettier version of Lyanna. She had the structure of lovely Catelyn Tully's face with alluring pale gray-blue eyes and the darkest lashes he'd ever seen.

Dried blood was still on her face from when she witnessed her father's bannermen being slain. He worried if she had nightmares about it while she slept but she didn't mention any when she sat up and rubbed sleepily at her face.

Nodding toward the lake, Jaime suggests she wash up. Before leaving, he'd gathered a few extra clothes with him. They were men's clothes but that was probably better for (y/n) while they were traveling.

A bashful blush livens her pale cheeks as she nods. Jaime, to give her some privacy, turns his back to the lake and keeps an eye out toward the trees.

He's hyper aware though of the rustling of her clothes as she removes them. His own ears reddened with warmth when he heard movement in the water. Not for the first time, he wondered what she looked like naked. What did the slopes and contours of her body feel like? Was the rest of her body soft like her hands?

(y/n) didn't spend too much time in the water. Just enough to scrub her face and wash the rest of her body from the grime and sweat that had accumulated during her flight from the capitol.

She nervously cleared her throat once she was fully dressed. Jaime turned around. (y/n) in his clothes didn't something carnal to Jaime. His large tunic did little to hide her figure as he could still make out the shapeliness of her breasts. Trousers had been cinched tightly at her waist and accentuated her wide hips.

Her long, black hair was still wet as she was in the process of tying it up into a ponytail.

She didn't need gowns and jewels to look exquisite.

"Cat got your tongue, Ser Jaime?" (y/n) grinned when she saw his outward gawking.

"I've never seen a woman wear my clothes with such finesse before." He smirked.

Laughing, (y/n) picks up the white cloak that was still sprawled out on the grass and wraps it once more around her shoulders. "If I could, I would wear men's clothes more often than dresses. You can imagine how uncomfortable it is being laced into a bodice for hours on end."

He startles both of them when Jaime tucks away a stray, soggy lock behind (y/n)'s ear. It had been bouncing around her face, begging for attention. Jaime apologizes in a halfhearted manner. At least it was an excuse to touch her. "Lets get going. We have a long way till our next stop."

Looking once again at the map, it was decided to take the longer way along the river in order to avoid populated areas.

During their walk, they shared a piece of bread between one another and spoke more about their childhoods. Maybe it was a way to soothe the aching wound of (y/n)'s heart after having to force her to leave her family defenseless in King's Landing.

There was great love in the Stark household, evident from the tenderness of her voice. Something that hadn't been present in Casterly Rock since the death of his own lady mother Joanna.

He liked imagining (y/n) as a spunky little girl playing with the boys and struggling to thread her needle for embroidery, braiding Sansa's rich auburn hair and reading under the grand weirwood tree in her family's personal godswood.

She painted a beautiful picture.

Jaime didn't really have such stories. His childhood had been filled with his endless need to be the best swordsmen out there. He trained from dusk till dawn and kept his mind focused on his goals. For him, there was no time for childish whimsy.

They stop to rest for a bit. (y/n) took off her boots to rub at her sore feet and Jaime knelt by the river to fill up their canteen that had been bone dry for hours. There wasn't much food he had packed since there was urgency to get out. Plenty of bread was still available in his pack but not much else.

Bare foot, (y/n) went about searching for wild berries and mushrooms. Jaime couldn't resist watching her through her wanderings. Ned had taught her and her siblings many things about wild berries back in Winterfell. She used this knowledge to gather an armload. While it wasn't meat it still filled their bellies along with chugging mouthfuls of water.

After that little respite, they were up and at it again until the sun dipped back down behind the mountains, replaced by a sliver of the moon and a multitude of stars. Starry skies always reminded (y/n) of her mother’s gown, she told Jaime as they walked. The Lady Catelyn possessed a gown of the deepest blue. Woven intricately onto the fabric were small crystals. They dazzled in thee light and as she moved about.

Joanna passed so long ago that Jaime could barely recall her. Something that he was able to share with (y/n) was his mother’s laugh.

She was a snorter.

For all her grace and beauty, when Joanna Lannister laughed, she really laughed. So much so that it resulted in her snorting during such throes.

Odd how that was the sole thing Jaime could think about when trying to remember her.

He must have sounded sad to (y/n) for sure grabbed his hand with warmth. Strong radiance flowed from her to Jaime. His insides flutter. Around her, he felt like such a young and naive boy. He was a man grown. She was the only woman to make him feel like this; not even Cersei made his heart thump vulnerably. With his sister, it was all about lust and satisfaction. There was no coyness to her seduction. Cersei always was straight forward.

If Jaime didn’t know any better, he would say he was falling in love with the Stark girl. That couldn’t be it though, right?”

For the following nights, Jaime insisted that he stay up to keep watch. A ridiculous thing considering that even the great Jaime Lannister needed sleep. No human could go so long without slumber.

He compromises. When the two of you take a break from your walking, he would take that opportunity to nap.

“You still know how to use this?” Jaime holds out his sword to you making you widen your eyes.

You stare at the hilt. The same sword he used to kill many people. Fingers twitch forward and brush up against it. “Yes.”

He nods when you finally take hold and put it off to the side of you on the grass. Situating himself onto hiss makeshift blanket and pillow, Jaime closes his eyes and is asleep in minutes.

This was an opportunity for you to outwardly admire him. He really was quite handsome. A perfect aquiline nose paired with cheek bones to die for. His upper lip was a perfect bow arch and absolutely kissable. You wonder what he dreams about.

While he rests, you go over the map. There’s bits of Jaime’s handwriting on the parchment too. Sloppy letters smashed together. You grin reminiscing that that was the way Robb wrote as well. Was that a habit of all men? No, your father wrote properly enough.

Naturally, Jaime would start to wake after an hour’s worth of sleep then back to the road it was.

All together, it took near a week to reach the Red Fork of the Trident. The river where Rhaegar Targaryen was slain by Robert Baratheon. The Red Fork lead all the way to Riverrun.

You were almost there. Considering why you were traveling in the first place, you would admit there was fun had while with Jaime. Away from the city, Jaime was freer. Boyish sides of him that he wasn’t able to display while in the Kingsguard. His smile, oh. . . This new smile of his was breathtaking. A bright beam that almost blinds you.

Certainly he was still arrogant, but a little less now.

“What will you do once you deliver me safely to my grandfather?” You ask him as you refill the canteen for one last time.

“Well, that’s if your family even allows me to leave.” Jaime chuckles. “Can’t imagine I’ll be welcomed back in King’s Landing or Casterly Rock. Don’t suppose you will employ a knight such as myself?”

The muscles on your face automatically make you smile at his confession of wanting to stay with you. You tamper it down and cough into your hand. “I can try to work something out.”

A light moment like this was bound to be ruined soon after.

Men on horseback and on foot surround you and Jaime. Swords aimed at the both of you.

Jaime holds up his hands to show that he was harmless and you immediately shout “I’m (y/n) Stark! Daughter of Catelyn Tully. Granddaughter of Hoster Tully!” Their red and blue livery reveal their allegiance.

Slowly, they lower their weapons; those on the ground get closer to see you better.

Then they register the man beside you. Their weapons went back up until Jaime forfeit his sword and allowed them to tie him up. One of the men helps you onto a horse while you beg lenience for Jaime the entire time. Proclaiming that he was actually helping you and bore no ill will.

All fell on deaf ears as they drag Jaime all the way back to the Riverrun fortress.

Spotting you from Hoster Tully’s chamber balcony, your mother met you at the front gate. She was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

As you’re assisted to the ground by helpful hands, Catelyn is already pushing aside men to get to you. She throws her arms around you and pulls your body tightly to her chest.

“Thank the gods!” Her fingers tangling them in your thick hair and buried her face in your neck. “(Y/n)-“

You encircle your arms around her. In her arms was the smell of home.

“Lady Catelyn,” came one of the soldiers. “Jaime Lannister was found with her.”

She sharply inhales and in one swift move she has you behind her as she steps forward for the rest of the men to present her Jaime.

They force him onto his knees in front of her.

“Mother please, Jaime helped me escape the Keep.”

Her eyes turn to you sharply. “(Y/n), the Lannisters are the reason for all that has befallen our family.”

Not Jaime though. He had done everything to help you. You grab Catelyn’s arm. “Without him I would have been like Sansa.”

“I swore myself to your daughter, Lady Tully. I am her sworn sword.” Jaime passionately declares. “Made an oath to protect her from this day to my last.”

“I recall you made that same oath to Aerys.” Scrutinized Catelyn.

His eyes are hard and unrelenting. Jaime doesn’t cower or back down. “It’s different with (y/n). She is worthy of protecting. I want to dedicate my life to her.”

Gods.

His words made you soar.

Narrowing her gaze, your mother folds her arms in front of her chest. “Well, Ser Jaime, it sounds like you have certain. . . Affections for her.”

Jaime turns to you with a hint of a smile. “I would say so.”

“(Y/n), go inside.” She snaps at you and with a wave of her hand, her father’s men take ahold of Jaime and bring him to the prisons of Riverrun.

Desperately you watch as Jaime meekly follows them. He doesn’t put up a fight, not once.

“He’s trying to make you a fool, (y/n).” Catelyn accosts you once inside the secure walls of the castle. “Please. . . Please tell me you don’t share these feelings he’s pretending to have?”

You were still stunned at what Jaime had admitted.

“(Y/n)?”

He swore his sword to you twice now in the presence of others. Catelyn made a point about Aerys, but what else was Jaime supposed to have done in that moment? Aerys was about to blow up King’s Landing with enough wildfire to wipe it off of the map.

Turning your spine to steel, you straighten your back and address your mother. “He’s not pretending. And if you must know, yes I do.”

You hate the pain that flashes across her face. “No. . .”

Before she could pull away from you, you grab her hands firmly and keep her there.

“I would not be here had it not been for Jaime.” You tell her sternly. “I am holding your hands now because of him. He kept his word to me that he would safely return me to you and even wanted to stay my sworn sword after the fact he had accomplished his goal.”

Squeezing her hand tighter, you add “He had everything to lose and nothing to gain.”

She was conflicted but you were adamant that she have Jaime released.

“Give him a chance.”

You were fierce, reminding Catelyn of Ned. Unwilling to back down to what you believed to be the right thing.

“I honestly can’t believe I was let out so soon.” Jaime muses.

Not without conditions of course as you glance at the Tully guards that watch him like a hawk. He wasn’t allowed his sword back. Not yet.

“Did you mean what you said? Before they took you away.”

He pauses to watch a low flying birds swoop down to the running water of the river. It pulls out a small silver fish and carries it away.

“I’ve thought about it a lot.” He admits. “What I feel for you. It’s confusing but it makes me feel alive. I’m not going to pretend that I’m even worthy of you. (Y/n), I’m not a good person. No one in the Kingsguard is except maybe Barristan Selmy. I’ve done some things that would horrify you. I didn’t like who I was in King’s Landing. But I like who I am when I’m with you.”

Your first instinct is to kiss him. You’re sure that the guards wouldn’t be too happy about it. Might even report it to Catelyn who was already uneasy with letting Jaime walk free. She’d given him the option to even leave the Riverlands but he refused.

“Bet you wanted to kiss me just then.” His grin is stretched from ear to ear.

You laugh and shove his arm lightly.

Like the first day following your exodus from King’s Landing, Jaime tucks a stray strand of hair that had escaped it’s confines. “I really meant what I said. My life is your’s, my lady. If war is to come, I will gladly protect you from my own house. This I vow.”

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littledollll · 1 year

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Can be requested NSFW Brienne of Tarth x fem Lannister virgin reader (19-20 y.o)

The reader is the daughter of Cersei and Jaime. When Jaime and Brienne arrive in the Kings Landing, Jaime introduces Brienne to her daughter. And it's love at first sight. But Cersei thinks Brienne is in love with Jaime. One night, Cersei was walking through Brienne's chambers and heard moans and thought Brienne was having sex with Jaime, but when she breaks out into Brienne's chambers, she sees her daughter under Brienne. And then the next day, they have a conversation with Cersei and Jaime.

Happy Ending

This is my request

Oh no big deal, you can write this in your own style and change the characters, I don't mind that. I trust you completely! And if you write, I'll be glad to read! Honestly, I give you my word.

And I want to add that you are an incredible writer, and I really like your work! 🖤🖤

Love (and lust) at first sight

Brienne of Tarth x Lannister!reader

Warning: smut but it’s not that long, caught in the act, cool dad Jamie, disappointed mom Cersei, big warning over the fact I know nothing about these characters

A/n: this was one hell of a brainstorm and i dont like this that much but I rly hate rejecting requests so here it is!

You were called down to the entrance by your mother, announcing your father was finally home, only he wasn’t alone, there was a woman with him, Tall, blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, you couldn’t focus on anything they were saying as you looked at her, only snapping back to reality when you heard her voice as she introduced herself. How did your father have the absolute honor to journey with her- you hurried to greet her and introduce yourself.

You could’ve sworn you keep meeting her gaze through the conversation you were paying no attention to, you weren’t making this up, Brienne was also staring at you. However your mother was convinced it was Jamie she was looking at, deciding not to make a fuss out of it, she simply observed Brienne.

——————

Over the next few days you continued looking for excuses to be around her, most of the time Brienne simply allowed you to accompany her, though you noticed she wasn’t one to talk much, though she was a damn good listener and occasionally contributed to your usually one sided conversations.

“Why do you insist on following me around?” It was the first time Brienne initiated the conversation. You weren’t really prepared for her to question that, or talk at all really. “Well- I mean I don’t know-“ She cut you off when you seemed to be stalling to answer. “it seems I’ve caught you off guard, I apologize my lady.” “No no! I just think you’re beyond beautiful- and I’ve heard so much about you I’d like to get to know you myself and not just what everyone says of you.”

Brienne seemed shocked for a moment then furrowed her brows. “And what is it you’ve head about me?” A lot. Like a lot. People love talking shit about anyone and anything. “Well for starters, rumor has it you’re very cold. But I have a feeling that’s wrong- and that you’re a strong, one of the strongest swordsmen was it? Apparently despite that coldness you are protective and loyal.”

She only hummed and you chuckled. “What? you’re gonna leave me guessing?” A small smile reached her face as she looked away from you to keep walking. “I thought you said you wanted to get to know me yourself, my lady.” She said, making you blush. “Challenge accepted, ser.”

——————

Both you and your mother hated how much time she spent with Jamie, for wildly different reasons of course, but neither of you were of aware of the other. For you it meant you couldn’t continue your endless playful flirting that had started after you confessed your interest in Brienne, in your fathers presence, to Cersei it was because she swore Brienne was pinning after him.

“So, what do you think of her?” Your mother nodded Brienne’s way as she and your father were talking about God knows what, you were busy looking at her. “I think she’s lovely, why do you ask?” You said with a smile on your lips. Cersei looked at you questioningly. “No particular reason, thought I’d ask since she’s living here, I’d hate it if you didn’t like her presence.” You didn’t question her reasoning, only nodded. “Well you’re in luck, I quite like her, happens to make great company too.”

——————

“Are you going to continue staring daggers into my back or do you plan on talking?” Brienne asked. After a day of little to no interaction between the two off you, you decided to join her back to her room. “I quite like your back, so I’ll take you up on that offer” she froze for a second before a smirk grazed her face. “oh do you now? Tell me, what plays on your mind while you’re busy staring, my lady?”

“Why do you insist on calling me that” changing the subject while she crawled over you, making you whimper. “Because I like seeing the look on your face whenever I do.” Her eyes trailed down to your lips before snapping back to your own. “Please-“ you didn’t even have time to ask property before her lips were on yours. It was intoxicating, needy, messy. You were both waiting for this since the moment you met.

When you parted you looked drunk off the kiss, you giggled when Brienne laid kisses down your jaw and neck. “Brienne-“ voice was barely above a whisper, afraid to ruin the moment. “Are you alright, my lady?” you felt hot all over and you were sure your face was red. “I’ve never really done this before-“ “would you like to stop?” You shook your head. “Just thought you should know.” Brienne kissed your temple and moved back down. “Thank you my lady, just say the word and we can stop or slow down, okay?” She made you feel so safe then. You breathed out an “okay”.

Brienne undressed you carefully, kissing every inch of skin she revealed until you were completely naked. Two of her fingers trailed down to your entrance, gathering your wetness and moving up to rub your clit. You were so sensitive and responsive, loud, though Brienne adored it she couldn’t risk you being caught. “Darling, you need to be quiet.” Hips bucking against her hand and hole clenching around nothing, you whined.

“Inside. please, I need you.” Sure you’ve touched yourself before, but her hand felt so much better. Brienne didn’t say anything, only complied with your request, two fingers slipping into your soaked entrance while keeping her thumb on your clit. “Oh fuck!-“ you practically screamed when she started thrusting into you.

Outside, your mother was walking past Brienne’s room when she heard this, she assumed it was Brienne with Jamie. She turned and walked back to the door, putting her ear against the door to confirm what she heard.

Brienne slapped her free hand over your mouth, big mistake. Your moans, however muffled, were louder. “By gods, you need to control yourself.” Brienne scolded you quietly, although amusement was clear in her voice. To be honest, you really didn’t care, not in the moment anyways.

Just as you were about to tip over the edge the door slammed open making you jump and attempt to hide yourself, thankfully your body was mostly covered by Brienne on top of you. It was so quiet you could almost hear the cogs turning in your mothers head. Brienne just hid herself in your neck, thankful she didn’t decide to undress.

Apparently, she did not have the energy to explode in anger right now, only sighing and muttering out “I will be talking to the both of you in the morning. Your father will be told about this.” Before she slammed the door and walked off.

Brienne could barely contain her laugh. “Fuck. Breakfast is going to be interesting.” you slapped her shoulder. “It is not the time to joke about this! they are going to kill you. And me. And you again!”

——————

Breakfast was quiet, you arrived late since you had to run back to you room in the morning to get ready and come down. Your father and Brienne seemed to be talking a lot softer than they usually did while your mother was practically seething in quiet anger.

As you went to sit on the table you greeted your father and Brienne with a kiss on the cheek which made her stop functioning for a few seconds. Then walked to your mother and kissed her head, when you turned to walk away she gripped your wrist. “You stay right there.” You nodded.

“You come into my home, with my husband after he has been missing for months. To add to that, get caught fucking my daughter. And you have the audacity to act like it’s a completely normal morning.”

“I apologize but- would you rather I shrink and turn into a pathetic apologizing mess like a coward or we talk like adults and make things clear.” Brienne stated plainly, like she didn’t really care for an argument. “What’s done is done, after all.”

“Personally I think Brienne is a great fit for our girl, and you know very well she’s going to be protected and cared for.” Your father said, more at your mother than anyone else. “I don’t care for what the girl decides. She’s an adult, the problem here is that this happened behind my back. If you’d at least have the decency to come to me this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“In that case, I apologize, truly nothing was meant to happen last night, if it was in my plans for everything to go down as it did you would’ve been made aware. I was under the impression Jamie talked to you about us though.” Your mother breathe in and looked at your father, seething with anger. “So you were aware and chose not to tell me?”

You stepped in. “Hi, me again, you know the whole cause of this conversation. You’ve been talking like I’m not right here, fight with father later. I’d like to continue seeing Brienne. Will that be an issue?” You really just wanted to go to sleep.

“No, my dear, it won’t. Now both of you get out of here I have to have a serious discussion with Jamie.”

#gwendoline christie #ser brienne #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne of tarth smut #brienne x reader #brienne x jaime

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itsgameofthronesimagines · 1 year

Note

Could I request a Cersei x f reader where the reader is Cersei’s secret lover but Jaime (Love him but needed a villain) found out and made up lies about reader so Cersei herself throws the reader to jail. When she’s finally freed after the allegations were proved wrong, reader is now cold hearted, avoiding Cersei who tries to talk to her. Go heavy on the angst. You can decide if it’s happy ending (at least as happy of an ending as you can get with Cersei) or not. Thank you! You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to

(Gif not mine but can I just say that I hate myself for loving how beautiful she is?)

Title: Lioness Roar

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Cersei Lannister x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,719

Summary: Cersei’s brothers could do whatever they wanted with little to no consequences all because of their gender. Now as the Queen, Cersei believes she can do more.

Warnings: vulgar language, daddy issues (guess who), homophobia, angst, mentioned wlw smut, and I will admit it does kind of read like yandere.

Author’s Note: God I love writing about Lannisters. They’re so complex (and I know I’ve said that before so sorry if you’re sick of hearing it but I’m not sorry for saying it) and I think this might be the first time I’m writing a Cersei x reader so this was exciting!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

~~~~~~~~~

Cersei always believed that if she were born with a cock, her world would be a lot different, but for the best.

As a child, she drew pictures of herself on the back of the dragon, and as she got older, her father kept promising to marry her to the prince, so then she began drawing Rhaegar Targaryen in those same pictures.

Before she grew into her female qualities, she was able to dress as her twin brother and attend sword fighting lessons without anyone able to tell the difference.

While Jaime had no interest in listening to his father about the importance of their history, their finances, and the running of the keep, Cersei listened intently. She knew that if she were Tywin’s firstborn son and heir, he’d be proud of all of her accomplishments, and this was just one of many ways she tried to gain his approval.

She did all these things to prove that she can do anything her brothers did possibly even do more than Tyrion but Lord Tywin always stamped down her ambitions other than the one that involved her getting married to the prince. No matter how hard she tried, Cersei could never get her father to actually see her aside from what she already was.

One look and Lord Tywin would’ve seen his daughter holding a sword better than Jaime ever could and reciting old text better than Tyrion could ever pronounce. If Tywin could only see past her gender, Cersei would truly be his golden child.

Alas, she was nothing but a bargaining chip; a pawn he liked to move around the board. When her marriage proposal to Rhaegar fell through and all the Targaryens were killed off, Cersei was married to Robert Baratheon and she became his Queen Consort. She gave him three children, despite the two of them being unhappy from the start. Even if her children didn’t look like the King, she didn’t care. She did her duty to the realm, to her husband, and to her father, securing the legacy Tywin always wanted for his family. Cersei did her part and now she felt inclined to her own right of freedom to do whatever she wanted.

That freedom came in the form of Lady Y/n.

As a wedding gift, Lord Tywin sent Cersei the daughter of one of his bannermen to act as her handmaid and confidant. Y/n was possibly the only truly kind gesture Cersei’s father ever made toward her, but the new Queen was bitter from the beginning. She did not confide in other women. Cersei felt as though she was above gossiping and hand-sewing, even when she was a little girl. With her father’s praise and boasting of her being the most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei even believed she was above all the ladies of the country, including Y/n.

Y/n was a quiet young woman. Dutiful towards her Queen and tending to her every need without question, the handmaid was smart to never speak openly to Cersei. She kept her thoughts tight-knit in her mind and only replied to the Queen if Cersei spoke directly at her. Even where Y/n was from, she heard certain rumors about Cersei and how the Lady Lannister’s best friend, Melara Hetherspoon, mysteriously fell into a well and only Cersei lived to tell the tale. Y/n’s mother was secretly concerned when Tywin Lannister sent her daughter away to tend to Cersei, knowing that the Lioness of Casterly Rock was always troubled and strangely devoid of any emotion other than anger.

Even Y/n believed this, and in fear, she never spoke a word to Cersei unless spoken to so as not to draw attention to herself. Tending to Cersei was like awaiting with anticipation for a barrel of wildfire to ignite. All it took was one tiny flame.

However, once Cersei’s children were born, it appeared as though that flame was tameable. Y/n often tended to her Queen’s children more so than the wet nurses. Many wondered if the wet nurses were just lazy, but one maid, in particular, had the bravery to whisper about the Queen being behind this, how Cersei ordered the wet nurses to do their duty to feed her children except Myrcella but to leave all other care to Lady Y/n and herself.

If this rumor was to be taken seriously, no one knew why Cersei would do such a thing unless she full-heartedly trusted her handmaid. But this was Cersei Lannister of all people, and no one, not even King Robert, was allowed to be near the princess and princes without Cersei’s presence.

And yet, Y/n could be found with all three children, alone, holding them to her chest when they cried or laughing as she chased them around in the gardens. If they weren’t with Cersei or their teachers, the royal children were likely to be found with Lady Y/n, who they lovingly nicknamed their aunt once they began to speak. Perhaps the children truly thought Y/n was part of their family and if so, Cersei had allowed it to appear that way.

The truth is Cersei grew to care for one other person besides her children and Jaime, but kept that close to her heart and locked it away, not even Y/n could reach it. At first, Cersei was disgusted with her thoughts and her feelings. There was a time in her inner turmoil when she would lash out at her handmaid even though Y/n did nothing wrong. Despite all this, Cersei blamed her for everything and was even tempted to send her away. But young Myrcella, barely able to write her own name, cried one night when Y/n was not there to tuck her into bed and told her mother how much she loved Y/n. Feeling defeated, Cersei never exiled Y/n and refused to look at the other woman for many months.

Cersei’s demons came to a head when she heard Jaime tell yet another story about Tyrion finding another whore to bed with... but instead of her usual disgust, another thought struck her. There was a time when Cersei could act like a boy all she wanted without anyone batting an eye. She could do whatever she wanted and even though she was now Queen, Cersei had yet to take full advantage of that. As long she remained married to the King and gave him children, her father could not tell her what to do and her husband cared very little about what she did as long as Cersei kept him out of it. Hearing Jaime’s story of Tyrion’s new woman, Cersei thought if her dear little brother could take any common whore to bed without scandal, why couldn’t she?

Lady Y/n was already her handmaid. It was already the perfect disguise. If Tyrion could do it and hide his lover as a servant girl, so could Cersei. If Robert could openly bring whatever woman he wanted into his bed, so could his wife.

Of course, Cersei could order Y/n to kiss her and bed her if she liked, but she was a clever woman and felt the excitement of playing the long game of convincing Y/n to love her. So as not to scare her, Cersei started off slowly, starting by subtly nodding her thanks to Y/n when she helped her dress and undress because yes, Cersei has never once thanked anyone before. When Y/n didn’t appear put off by this, Cersei slowly began to openly thank her, then slowly progressed to subtly touching her arm or moving Y/n’s hair off her shoulder.

This slow progression is successful in many ways. Y/n doesn’t notice how much Cersei changed because Cersei had slowly done so without any red flags rising. Before Y/n could remember the story of Melara Hetherspoon, Cersei had her wrapped around her finger, practically brainwashing her handmaid into believing that she had always been a kind and loving queen towards her loyal subjects. Cersei’s patience paid off when Y/n began to openly talk to her about her hopes and dreams, even her opinions, without ever flinching of fear or repeal.

And, in a way, her patience also brought Cersei to love Y/n even more than just for lust. Listening to Y/n talk made Cersei wonder why she had suppressed the young woman from doing so in all the years she’s known her. Everything sounded exciting when Y/n spoke, her voice forcing Cersei to listen to every syllable.

That is... until eligible suitors came searching for Y/n’s hand in marriage. When Y/n talked about her suitors, Cersei would immediately order her to speak of something else. She couldn’t bear to hear about the men trying to take her new interest away from her. She wouldn’t allow her brothers to steal a toy from her as children, why would this be any different?

It was the talk of the decade. Throughout King’s Landing, people whispered about how Lady Y/n must be cursed. Ever since her father announced opening a proposal for her, many of Y/n’s suitors have mysteriously disappeared or been found dead in their beds, sometimes even before they could meet her. Over time, several men have gone to King’s Landing in hopes of winning Y/n’s hand. None have returned to their homes and some houses were on the brink of extinction because of this curse.

It didn’t take long before men stopped asking for Y/n’s hand in marriage, and Cersei had never been happier to have her handmaid remain at her side.

By the time Jon Arryn mysteriously died, Y/n was more than just a confidant or friend. She became Cersei’s secret lover, and Cersei didn’t feel any shame or disgust the first time she kissed her. While making plans for the royal family to travel to Winterfell, Y/n shyly and breathlessly confessed her love for Cersei. Before she could escape the Queen’s chambers in her shame, Cersei roughly held Y/n’s face in her hands as she fervently kissed her. The victory going on in Cersei’s mind was all too sweet, hastily taking Y/n to her bed then and there, finally claiming her as no one but the Queen’s.

Cersei had begun to feel like a god with what she had taken as her own. With Y/n secretly under one arm and Jaime under the other, she began to believe and reminisce about the young girl she once was, a Lady Lannister who took no prisoners and always got whatever she wanted. As Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei felt as though she held the world in her hands and was believed to be untouchable.

This god complex would continue to fester and grow as several events play out. While in Winterfell, Young Bran Stark mysteriously fell out of a window. When the royal family left the North, they brought Ned Stark and his two daughters with him as the new Hand of the King. When Cersei arrived back in King’s Landing, Y/n was waiting for her in her chambers with open arms and a hot bath. Cersei had never felt such power secured tightly in her fist before.

That is until it slipped ever so slightly out of her grasp and Cersei lashed out and nearly lost her mind. Under Lord Stark’s orders, his wife Catelyn took Tyrion as her prisoner and this prompted Jaime to attack the Hand of the King before escaping King’s Landing. Cersei could feel her power and influence slipping when, even as Ned Stark admitted to her accusations, Robert still refused to punish his old friend.

Madness slipped through, for a split second, as Cersei snapped, “I took you for a king!”

“Hold your tongue.”

“He’s attacked one of my brothers and abducted the other. I should wear the armor, and you the gown.”

King Robert spun around and hit her before Cersei could say more. She proudly claimed she would wear this mark on her face like a badge of honor before swiftly leaving the room. She retreated to her chambers to lick her wounds and fester in her rage. When Y/n was summoned, she was horrified by the angry bruise on Cersei’s face and tended to it immediately. Unaware of what had happened, Y/n barely even blinked when Cersei ordered her to stay with her the whole night.

War began to brew after that and Cersei received word of Tywin and Jaime raising an army to bring back Tyrion. Sensing it was time to make her move, she had her cousin Lancel bring an armload of wine for Robert when he fled to the Kingswood to hunt. Of course, everyone knows that wine and hunting don’t mix, and when Robert returned to Cersei, his guts were spilling out of him. It wasn’t long before Joffrey was sitting on the Iron Throne after that, his mother sitting beside him.

Cersei had Ned Stark arrested and his daughters confined to the Red Keep. With her son as king, she now had all the power with no one to tell her otherwise. She still felt her self-control slip, however, when she heard of Jaime’s capture and then Tyrion returned to King’s Landing as Tywin’s Acting Hand of the King. When she heard the news of her twin brother, Cersei retreated back to her chambers and once again, kept Y/n in her bed all night long. Y/n was none the wiser, believing Cersei was only grieving her brother’s capture by taking her anger out on her lover. This anger got even worse when Myrcella was sent away to Dorne.

When Jaime returned, Cersei was still an angry woman and nothing was ever the same again. Cersei retreated from Jaime’s embrace whenever he reached out to her. At first, he thought it was because of his missing hand, but then Cersei gifted him a golden prosthetic as a replacement. When she didn’t appear disgusted by him, Jaime kept a watchful eye on his sister.

He suspected Cersei had another lover but failed to find any man entering his sister’s chambers, no matter the time of day. He did, however, always noticed Y/n freely walking around wherever she wanted. Even when Cersei was not around, Lady Y/n would enter her room and the guards standing outside wouldn’t even question her. Sometimes, Jaime even witnessed Y/n ordering the guards around as if she were speaking on the Queen’s behalf, and they listened to her. Jaime’s affronted thoughts came to a halt when one day, he noticed Y/n out in the gardens with Tommen, the young prince indulging the lady with a book he read out loud. Cersei was nowhere in sight.

Jaime was not the smartest Lannister, but he knew Cersei better than anyone, and he knew that his sister would not trust their her children with anyone unless she had complete faith in them.

He confronted his sister that night when he knew that Y/n was sent away after helping Cersei undress. With the Queen now alone, Jaime snuck in and didn’t hesitate to speak his mind, “You love her.”

Cersei froze, her back turned to him, refusing to say a word or even look back to face him. Jaime scoffs because that was enough of a confirmation for him. Cersei was never one to hold back her tongue; this would have been no exception if it wasn’t true. The emotions that began to build within Jaime were rage and disgust. He pushed a boy out of a window for Cersei. He kept their affair a secret for Cersei. He killed his cousin for Cersei. He even lost his hand when trying to get back to Cersei. How is it that he went through all that trouble the gods have cursed him with for Cersei, and she had already moved on and fallen in love with another? How could he live with this knowing that Cersei had pushed him aside for none other than a woman?

“As hateful as you are... you love her,” he seethed between his teeth, “All those years you made me believe you kept her around to keep all eyes away from us... when really you just wanted us both. You have always been a selfish woman.”

A wry smile curls over his lips, the brewing anger slowly turning malicious, “But I wonder how selfish? Or are you just too blind by love to see it?”

Cersei turned to face him, her expression sour and voice dripping with venom, “See what?”

“That she has fooled you,” Jaime lets the words spill out of his mouth like water, fluid and graceful, even he believed the deceit he spoke, “Lady Y/n’s father may be our father’s bannermen, but she is no ally to us. I intercepted a raven before my escape, one that was addressed to Robb Stark. It was sealed with your sigil but not your handwriting, so I knew it wasn’t yours. However, seldom few have access to your seal and your desk, so one could only wonder who had the means of contacting the King of the North bearing your mark?”

Cersei stood still, eyes locked onto Jaime’s as her expression slowly twists and turns corrupt with barely restrained rage and madness in between the flicker of the candle flame. For a moment, a brief moment... Jaime thought that rage was directed at him.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was roughly woken by a few of the Queen’s personal guards, binding her and muffling her screams with a rag. Tediously, they bring her all the way down into the dungeon before throwing her into the deepest, darkest cell. With her bonds and gag loose, Y/n finally has a moment to yell and plead, her hands gripping onto the iron bars for dear life as she begged for someone to help her.

Her pleas stop, however, when from the shadow emerges Cersei, regal as always, dressed in her usual red and gold fabrics without the help of her usual handmaid, now trapped behind bars. The moment Y/n caught the light on Cersei’s face, she knew who to place blame for her arrest.

“Why are you doing this?! I deserve an explanation!”

“You’re a traitor,” Cersei hissed even with a sly smile on her beautiful face, “You betrayed my son, your king. And worse of all, you betrayed me. Did you truly think I wouldn’t find out about your secret little messages to the King in the North? Were you praying that Jaime would never return so that he wouldn’t be able to inform me of your treachery?”

Y/n was initially shocked by these accusations before turning to defend her honor, “Surely he’s mistaken! Your brother has been away from home for far too long. His mind might be sick from being Robb Stark’s prisoner all this time. Why would you believe Ser Jaime over me?”

The question dies in her throat, her face crumbling into fearful realization as Cersei continued to stand still, as quiet as a cat while smiling down at her mouse. Y/n’s voices drop down into a whisper as she tries to hold back her own emotions, “... Unless it’s true. The rumors have all been true. You and your brother...”

Y/n’s fear slowly reverts to anger as her thoughts spill openly from her lips, “I refused to believe the whispers. I was loyal to you from the very beginning. I stuck by your side through everything and yet-- How could you?” She finally snapped, voice rising once again as her grip tightens around her bars, “I sacrificed everything for you! I gave you all I had and it still wasn’t enough, wasn’t it? I loved you... with all my heart, but not even love can cure you from this madness.”

Cersei’s eyes bore into Y/n’s own, the two women standing in the silence of the dark, cold dungeon. The Queen doesn’t acknowledge her actions for not even she knew why she quickly decided to imprison her former lover. She herself felt disgusted. Cersei had been able to round up each of King Robert’s bastard children and slaughter them for the sake of Joffrey’s legitimacy, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to have Y/n executed even though the woman was accused of betraying Joffrey. Cersei once believed she would do anything for the sake of her children, and now she felt disgusted knowing that she couldn’t even kill a woman to uphold that silent promise.

Cersei held her chin high, her voice was as cold as the day she first met Lady Y/n, “I love my brother. I will only ever love my brother. How could I ever love someone as lowly as a servant girl?”

~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long before Tywin noticed his daughter had a new handmaid and not one who was trusted enough to tend to Tommen when Cersei wasn’t around. Without questioning the Queen, Lord Tywin conducted an investigation and quickly discovered Y/n in the dungeons. After briefly talking to her and investigating Jaime’s accusations, Tywin was able to concur that Y/n was innocent of such treasonous actions and set her free. When Cersei heard of this, she was enraged and immediately went to her father with demands of executing her former confidant. When Tywin brought his evidence to her attention, Cersei refused to believe it, turning a blind eye and cursing her father’s name. Even in disbelief, Cersei couldn’t help but internally feel the ache and anger in her heart. Deep down, she knew Y/n had done nothing wrong, yet she listened to Jaime anyway. The last nail was wedged into her coffin when Tommen asked Cersei where his Aunt Y/n had gone. Only then could she truly admit she made a mistake.

But it was too late. With Y/n no longer being Cersei’s handmaid, the lady avoided the Queen like the plague. Y/n was no longer the woman everyone once knew to be kind and compassionate. She was cold and calculating to everyone, including Cersei, if the two women ever had a brief encounter in Joffrey’s court.

Y/n couldn’t even find it within herself to feel sympathy towards Cersei when Joffrey was murdered at his own wedding. Long after Tommen was crowned King, Y/n continued to avoid Cersei and never once shed a tear for the boy she once loved as her own. As long as one bore the face of Cersei or sported any sort of Lannister trait, Y/n avoided them at all costs and even felt disgusted if she had to share a room with them. A moment of opportunity arrived for her to be rid of this Hell when the High Sparrow became a big influence on King Tommen and his people. Cersei had the High Sparrow annointed as High Septon with the belief that he would work under her rule, and Y/n watched this unfold from a distance until finally, she made her own calculated move.

In time, Loras Tyrell, Queen Margaery, and even Cersei had been thrown into various cells of the Great Sept when none of them confessed to the sins they were accused of. Cersei had felt the cold breath of karma ghost down her neck the moment her cousin Lancel entered the room to stand beside the High Sparrow. Weeks dragged on and Cersei was miserable in her cell, hair matted and body covered in filth, tongue dry from her thirst. The cell door opened one miserable morning and Cersei curled in on herself instinctively, ready to refuse the water when offered in exchange for a confession... but the septa never said a word. Slowly, Cersei looked up from her arms and found Lady Y/n standing there instead of a septa, dressed in travelling clothes and holding a small pouch of water in hand, devoid of emotion as she looked down on the former Queen she served.

Cersei didn’t look pleased or impressed, turning her away to lean against the cold wall of her cell, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The one thing you have always strived for; craved for... You have always wanted to see me suffer.”

“I don’t know if there is anything I can say or do to convince you otherwise,” Y/n scoffed while setting down the pouch of water, “I gave my life to you, yet you still believe I betrayed you somehow in some shape or form. Even when I was proven innocent, you despised me. Why?”

Cersei blinked slowly while staring off into space, trying to swallow her spit to relieve her thirst, “You were just some lowly reminder of a time when I was unfaithful.”

“To who? King Robert? Everyone knows you despised him. That is no secret. Everyone knows that you would have done anything to hurt him. But to hurt Jaime... I think most can suspect that at this point, you would have done anything to keep him at your side. You can’t fool anyone, Your Grace. Not anymore.”

“I have fooled no one.”

“No one but me. You had me fooled the moment you kissed me,” Y/n’s voice broke, ever so slightly, cracking her mask, “You had me believe what we had was love. And yet you threw it all away the moment you decided to believe whatever you wanted to hear.”

“I didn’t want you to betray me.”

“And I never did. But you didn’t exactly care, did you? Instead of just asking me, you threw me in a cell and left me to rot. Because it was Ser Jaime’s word against mine.”

“Why are you really here?” Cersei rasped, watching her finger as she absently traced shapes into her cell wall.

Y/n composed herself, hardening her heart again and quickly blinking away the tears before they could be shed. She straightens up her vest as she confidentally spoke, “I came to say goodbye and to pray we never see each other again. What happens to you is no longer my concern. King Tommen has granted me leave from your service and is sending me home today. My only wish... my only wish is that we part with our truths laid out to one another... the way it always should have been.”

Cersei finally turns to look up at the woman standing over her, feigned smile spreading over her filthy face, “What truths, pray tell?”

“The truth is you were right, Queen Regent. I did betray you,” Y/n carefully watched as Cersei’s face twisted with several emotions before continuing, “I betrayed you to the High Sparrow. I confessed my sins to him and thus revealed yours. I told him everything, from our affair to yours and Ser Jaime’s. It wasn’t your cousin who turned you in. It was me.”

For years, Y/n has watched Cersei play the game with eager eyes and thin smiles and it wasn’t until recently did Y/n want to see the smug smile wiped from her former Queen’s pretty face. In her dreams, Y/n could imagine this and feel satisfaction bloom in her stomach, fulfilling her without food or water and lasting her till she is old in age. Now, finally succeeding in making Cersei lose at her own game, Y/n doesn’t feel that satisfaction she desired. All she could feel was guilt and shame.

Cersei’s face crumbled until it was laid bare for Y/n to read her as a childrens’ book, the Lady Lannister’s voice becoming accusatory, “So I was right. All you’ve ever wanted was to see my downfall.”

Y/n felt as though she had been slapped in the face, hating herself even as the words fell out, “No... never. Not when I loved you.”

Cersei looked back up when she heard Y/n kneeling down to her height, meeting her shining eyes as her former handmaid whispered as though she spoke a secret, “You might not see it as I do, but if I were to recall... you were the one who betrayed me first. I only returned the favor. Farewell... my lioness. I will pray for the next whore you decide to take to bed.”

The way Cersei’s face fell only made Y/n feel worse as she stood, turning to leave. The former handmaid wanted this woman to beg for her life as she once did in her own cold cell. She wanted Cersei to squeal and cry and feel her heart break as she once did, betrayed by the woman she loved. In a last ditched effort, Y/n kicked her pouch of water close to the cell door, far from Cersei if she even tried to reach it.

“No-- wait, Y/n, please-!”

Y/n hastily made her exit, slamming the cell door behind her to shut out Cersei’s pleas. As she walked down the hall, Y/n could feel a tear slip past her detection... as well as a smile of freedom.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hi I’m back on my bs again. It’s been a busy couple of weeks and now that I’m caught up on House of the Dragon and no longer working nights, I feel fueled to write again. Please support and leave a request in the ask box!

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei x reader #cersei lannister imagine #cersei lannister #got #got imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #asoiaf #asoiaf imagine #a song of ice and fire #cersei lannister fic #lena headey

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raspberryfingers · 1 year

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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 17)

WARNING: Mentions of death, NSFW

————— Tywin was walking much faster than usual, a nervous feeling in his chest. Myrcella’s boat had been spotted, and now both he and Cersei were rushing for the shore all of you were pulling into. He hadn't seen you in a month and a half, and gods was he desperate to.

And deep down, he was terrified that he wouldn’t. When he got to the beach, Cersei had just arrived, and she was smiling brighter than the sun itself.

“You’re excited to see her, aren’t you?” He asked softly, watching the boats approach. Cersei nodded, hands clasped together as she tried to contain her excitement. There were very few things that brought Cersei Lannister happiness, but her children always would no matter what they did.

Tywin felt an odd warmth in his chest, and noted that Cersei looked just like Joanna when she was smiling. It was in those moments he seemed to remember she was his daughter, and that when she wasn’t angry or delusional, his favorite child.

He—in a rare display of affection—let his arm wrap around her as he kissed her forehead, though his lips left her face just as fast as they’d been there.

Cersei looked up at her father, and felt suddenly vulnerable. More than anything, she had craved her fathers approval and affection, and in the moments like these when she received it, it made her want to sob.

As the boat pulled ashore, the two broke apart and approached, watching Jaime get off with Myrcella right behind him. Cersei couldn’t stop smiling as she ran to her daughter, embracing her as tightly as she could. Myrcella was glad to see her mother, and was somewhat glad to be back here.

“Welcome home, Myrcella,” Tywin said softly, cupping her cheek and giving her a vague smile. She grinned at him.

“Thank you, grandfather.”

Tywin noted the other boat reaching the shore as well, and watched Jaime make his way over to it, boarding and going inside the vessel. That was odd.

“Prince Trystane has come with us, mother. We’re to be married,” Myrcella informed excitedly, though Cersei was cautious.

“And you’ve spent time with him?” She questioned.

“Oh yes! I love him very much, mother. He's so kind, and handsome too,” Myrcella gushed. Cersei nodded, happy to know her daughter would not end up in a loveless marriage.

Just then, Bronn and Prince Trystane made their way onto the beach and approached the group. Trystane and Myrcella hugged, after obviously being apart for a week at sea.

“Mother, grandfather, this is Prince Trystane,” she introduced. Tywin shook the boy's hand, sensing he would be a good fit for his granddaughter. He then kissed Cersei’s hand, and she gave him a genuine smile.

“Prince Trystane, thank you for joining us here.”

“Of course, Lady Cersei.”

As they began to converse, Tywin stepped aside and approached Bronn.

“Where is Lady (Y/N)?” He whispered, making Bronn swallow. He did not want to bear the brunt of whatever anger would surely arise when he informed Tywin.

“Ser Jaime is helping her from the ship, my lord,” he said simply, watching Tywin’s eyes avert and look the boat over. Why would you need help?

Just then, he watched the door of the compartment open, and you stepped out with your arm around Jaime’s shoulders.

Bronn took a step back, watching Tywin’s eyes widen and jaw set. Jaime saw his father too, and felt a sickness in his stomach.

This was not going to go well.

—————

I was limping off the boat, and Jaime and I saw Tywin at the same time. He obviously understood that I’d been injured, and he did not look happy.

“He’s going to murder me,” Jaime muttered, to which I shook my head.

“Let me handle it.”

Tywin was walking with an immense speed, and he made his way up onto the ramp before Jaime and I could reach it.

“Move, boy. Let me do it, since clearly you’re incapable of even the simplest things,” Tywin scowled, motioning for Jaime to move. I sighed, being transferred from Jaime’s arms to Tywin’s. To be clear, I was not angry at the development, more so just annoyed that Tywin was going to handle it this way.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Tywin whispered after a moment, panic and distress clear in his voice. My heart softened, and I wanted to kiss the man’s cheek.

“Our effort to reach Myrcella before the Sand Snakes was quite narrow. I got her worse than this, though,” I said, feeling Tywin wrap one arm around my torso and help me walk a bit quicker as he supported my weight. It was like Blackwater all over again.

Jaime was walking behind us, and Tywin looked over his shoulder with an unmatched fury.

“You had one job. I told you to keep her safe, was I not abundantly clear?” Tywin hissed, shaking his head and helping me step onto the stony beach.

“It’s not Jaime’s fault, Tywin. I was egging the girl on, and either way he was fighting another one of them,” I explained, making him shake his head.

“He failed to do the task I gave him.”

“I’m injured, not dead, Tywin. You know me, I can’t resist the urge to make stupid decisions,” I said, trying to diffuse his anger.

“Yes, that’s why I hoped two men would keep you in check,” he muttered, making me laugh softly.

The group noticed us, and Cersei’s eyes went wide.

“What happened?” She asked, genuinely surprised.

“Lady (Y/N) risked her life to protect me. She fought so bravely, mother, you should have seen it,” Myrcella remarked, watching Cersei process it.

“Thank you, Lady (Y/N), for bringing my daughter home despite the costs,” she said to me after a moment.

“You’re welcome, Cersei. I know your children mean everything to you, and I’d do anything I could to reunite a family. Plus, it’s not the worst I’ve ever had,” I said with a smile, and she nodded, giving me the faintest of smiles back. I hoped to improve my relationship with her, especially because It was inevitable that people would find out about Tywin and I eventually, and maybe she wouldn’t be so angry if she knew I wasn’t a horrible person.

“I’m going to take her into the Red Keep so she can sit down and receive medical attention. Prince Trystane, would you and Myrcella join me for dinner tonight?” Tywin offered, making me smile to myself for a moment.

“Certainly, Lord Tywin. In the Tower of the Hand?” Trystane questioned, smiling at Myrcella for a moment.

“The king’s chambers will do, I’m certain your brother will be excited to see you home. All three of my children will come, too,” Tywin said to him. I was surprised that he’d invited practically the whole Lannister family, and I imagined it would be a rather interesting dinner.

One I was quite grateful to not be attending.

“Of course, Lord Tywin, we will all see you tonight,” Trystane said, nodding his head at Tywin, who did the same before adjusting his stance and helping me walk up to the steps. When we reached the steps, Tywin gave me a look.

“Can you make it up?” He asked softly, and I swallowed and nodded. Putting a bit more of my weight on him, he managed to help lift me up the steps I couldn’t make, and I felt awful when we got to the top.

“I’m sorry, I know this is awfully tedious,” I apologized as we continued on.

“Don’t be. I carried you across the battlefield at Blackwater, back when you detested me and thought I was an insufferable cunt. What makes you think I would mind doing it now, when I’m very much in love with you?” He said, whispering the last bit. I smiled, looking around and seeing that nobody was looking and there weren’t any guards nearby.

Leaning in, I kissed his cheek and he kissed my forehead. It would have to do in public, for anything else would have been too risky.

“I uh- I told Jaime. He’s promised he’s not going to tell other people, especially not Cersei, but I thought I should let you know that he’s aware of us,” I said after a moment, not wanting to keep that kind of secret from Tywin. His face was unreadable for a moment, but he nodded.

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing, really, we had to get moving before the sun got too high. But when he asked, he reasoned that he knew you’d loved Joanna, but everyone had said the best part of you died with her. It seemed- it seemed he was trying to convey that he wondered whether or not you were still capable of loving,” I said softly, watching Tywin glance about.

“I’ve been trying more with all of them. They’re all incompetent, whining children who love to bring down the Lannister name, but at the end of the day I am still their father. I’ve been trying to remind myself of that. Trying to think of what Joanna would want,” he said, mumbling the last bit with a sigh. I rubbed his back as well as I could, and he looked down at me with one of those sweet looks he only gave me when nobody else was around.

We reached another set of stairs, larger this time, and Tywin sighed. I felt awful, and mentally prepared myself for what was about to ensue. Suddenly, however, I felt Tywin reach down and completely pick me up, carrying me in his arms instead.

I looked at him with quite a bit of shock, but he ignored me and started up the stairs. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into him, enjoying this somehow. I felt safe in his arms, I felt cared for.

Though I expected him to put me down at the top, he did not. In fact, all the way back to my chambers he carried me, despite the looks all the nobles around us gave him.

A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.

When we reached my chambers, he finally set me down so I could hug Ser Elias, and I was grateful for that.

“What happened?” He asked, clearly observing that I was hurt.

“I got into a bit of a fight. Though, the one I left on her was worse,” I said with a grin, and he nodded.

“Your sister is out with the king today, but she’s requested your presence for dinner tonight,” he informed, to which I nodded.

“That would be lovely, thank you, Ser Elias,” I nodded, and Tywin helped me into my chambers, closing the door behind us.

Once it was closed, I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him deeply. He, of course, reciprocated just as passionately, cupping my face and pulling me closer to him.

“Gods, I missed you,” He muttered when I pulled away. I smiled and pressed my forehead to his.

“I was so desperate to get home you have no idea,” I whispered, kissing him softly this time. I’d missed his lips, and that was something I hadn’t expected to feel so empty without.

“Here, come sit down,” he said, helping me over to the small sofa in my room. We both sat down, and I sighed out with a certain relief.

“I ought to call for a maester, you need to-“

“Tywin, just call for Cerella. She helped me quite a bit with the last injury,” I told him, watching him rise from the couch and think. He nodded then, and went to the door to ask for her.

When he came back, he appeared to be tired.

“Are you alright?” I asked him, just now noticing how disheveled he looked in the proper lighting.

“I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve been worrying about you this whole time,” he admitted, making me go soft. I reached out my hand for him, and he took it within seconds. I’d missed the warmth of his hands, too.

“Well, I’m alright now. I know I can’t exactly stay with you in the tower for a month or so, but at least you know I’m safe,” I tried to assure him, feeling horrible that I’d truly put him through so much stress.

“I’ll stay with you in here for a while. Do you trust Ser Elias?” He asked, thumb brushing back and forth over my hand. I nodded.

“I do. You just need to be careful about what times you come and go. Other people might see,” I said with a sigh, wishing politics didn’t force us to be a secret at all.

“Of course. I’ll be careful, my dear, don’t worry,” he assured me, sitting down beside me again and kissing my forehead.

I leaned into him, so grateful to be home. Dorne was beautiful, but I found it hard to enjoy a place when Tywin wasn’t with me. Everything beautiful I saw, I wished to share with him.

“I wish you’d been there. I would’ve liked to see you in Dornish robes,” I said, leaning into his neck and biting his ear. He gave me a low growl, nipping at my neck.

“Dornish fashion suits you. The only style I like seeing you in more is Lannister style,” he complimented, looking me up and down in the dress. There was little left to the imagination, and I felt quite confident he appreciated that.

“Well, I can’t betray my house. Though, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to acquire a few more red and gold designs,” I said with a smile, kissing his cheek now.

“I don’t know why you bother, I intend to make them all end up on my floor,” he flirted, fingers coming to my chin as he smirked.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and I yelled out for Cerella to come in. When she did, I smiled. I’d missed seeing her everyday, if I was honest.

“I heard you got into some trouble on your mission, my lady,” she said, bowing her head at Tywin who moved away so she could sit beside me.

“You could say that. It wouldn’t have been much fun if I hadn’t,” I remarked, to which Tywin merely shook his head.

“Cerella, do you think she’ll listen to you? She certainly doesn’t listen to me when I tell her to behave and act smartly,” Tywin scoffed, pouring two cups of wine and bringing me one.

“Respectfully, my lord, I don’t think she intends to listen to anyone,” Cerella replied, making all of us smile. I lifted my dress as she got out her medical supplies, knowing she’d want to see it. I’d already received stitches, but after a week or so it would be nice to hear that things were still in place and healing well.

When the site was revealed, Tywin visibly looked concerned, and I reached for his hand to reassure him.

“All seems to be going well. I’m going to put some ointment around it, and I expect you can have them removed before the week is over,” she said, reaching for a small tin.

“How deep was it?” Tywin asked me, watching Cerella remove the lid and apply the ointment.

“I stopped her before she could get her knife all the way in. I’d say about three to four inches, and I still need to tell you what happened to her,” I said, beginning to feel excited. I’d wanted to tell him the story since it happened.

“Go on then, what did you do?” He asked with a soft smile, looking down at me fondly as Cerella put the bandages over my thigh.

“Well, I was egging her on, that’s principally why she got me. She had tried to stab me in the arm, but I caught her hand before she could. She then dropped the blade and caught it with her other hand, stabbing me then. Of course, as she did that, I was still holding her wrist, so I stabbed all the way through her forearm and held my blade to her other wrist so she couldn’t push her knife any further into me,” I explained, motioning with my hands to demonstrate what I’d done. Tywin nodded, imagining the scenario in his head.

“I imagine she screamed quite loudly when you did that,” he remarked, eyebrows raised knowingly. I smiled and nodded.

“She certainly did, and she continued to when I began to twist the blade. I was quite lucky to have struck her where I did, otherwise I might’ve just hit a bone,” I said with a sigh, pushing my skirts back down when Cerella was done.

“Well, I don’t pity her, she should’ve known better than to challenge you,” Tywin scoffed, knowing I had done much worse to those I’d killed in the past.

“She was a good fighter, just too angry. People who fight with anger are the worst kind,” I sighed, handing Cerella a gold coin and thanking her as she left us.

“Well, besides this girl, how was Dorne? I can’t assume anything noteworthy happened, Jaime’s always been fairly mellow,” he reasoned, taking a sip of his wine.

“He almost got bitten by a snake, though Bronn killed it and we ate it for breakfast. I don’t have any desire to eat a snake ever again,” I told, smiling as he laughed and sat down beside me again.

“I can imagine. How was Jaime’s man? Bronn, as you said,” Tywin inquired, eyes fixed on a small bird that had decided to perch itself on my balcony.

“He was rather enjoyable. He’s quite funny, and quite the flirt. Oddly enough, he was also very good at singing,” I said, watching the jealousy settle into his eyes. It was truly so easy to do.

“Is that so? And how did you discover that?” He questioned, jaw setting the way it always did when he was frustrated. I began to laugh.

“We sang a duet of the Dornishman’s wife together. Don’t get jealous, Tywin, you know I’ve only ever cared for you,” I said as I watched him gaze about the room. He wanted to look anywhere but at me.

“I know you only care for me, that’s not what bothers me,” he revealed, surprising me slightly. Why else would he care?

“Then what is it that does bother you?”

“That other men look at you, that they get to see you smile. I want to be the only one who sees you, the only one who makes you smile and laugh,” he mumbled, hand gently coming around my throat as he moved closer to me.

“Other men look, Tywin, but only you see. All of those men amount to nothing, and you know that. There’s only one great lion, only one man in all seven kingdoms that I want. Plus, none of them have ever kissed me. None of them have ever seen me naked. They’ve never watched me cum on their cocks while I moan their name,” I whispered with a smile. I reached for Tywin’s collar, pulling him into me and moaning as he kissed me. Gods, he made me burn for him. If it wasn’t for my thigh, I already would’ve torn off all his clothes.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbled, fire in his eyes as he looked at me. He was trying to calm himself, and I appreciated that.

“I would have too, it seems things have been relatively uneventful,” I said, as I hadn’t heard any news of importance lately.

“I wouldn’t say that. Do you recall the group I was discussing with you, those sparrows?” He questioned.

“Of course, why?”

“They caught the high septon in a brothel and forced him to walk through the streets naked. I had them all arrested for this, of course. I won’t have any group causing further chaos than already exists here,” he informed, making me raise my eyebrows in surprise. I had not expected such a punishment from a religious group.

“Are they going to be executed?”

“Of course.”

“That might not be smart, Tywin. There’s potential there to upset lots of people,” I warned, knowing that persecuting a religious group might have some rather harsh effects.

“It might seem that way, but the people in this damned city just want heads on pikes, they don’t care whose. Groups like these are like infections, starting small until they become a large problem and end up killing you. I’m not going to let some religious fanatics exercise power over us, or the rest of King's Landing for that matter. It starts with the high septon, eventually it would spread to the brothels and the moment brothels aren’t running, well, that would cause a lot of other problems,” Tywin explained, getting up and pacing as he did so. I liked to see into his brain during moments like this. He was obviously far older than I was and had seen much more than I had. It was this wisdom that I found so attractive, so inspiring. The most powerful man in Westeros indeed.

“You’re correct, the high septon would not be the last. Though, it may not be a bad thing. Parading me naked through the streets might increase public morale,” I joked, making Tywin laugh heartily. It had been quite some time since I’d heard him laugh that way.

“Yes, I’m certain it would!” He chuckled, looking at me with a hint of mischief.

“Well, besides the public shaming, any other news?” I inquired, hoping that perhaps that was as large as our problems were. Tywin nodded and finished his glass with a sigh.

“Quite a few things, though the only that actually happened in Kings Landing was Tyrion’s wedding. Walder Frey’s daughter actually ended up being quite pretty, much to his satisfaction. A sweet girl called Roslin. Though, I fear she’s a bit too sweet for him,” Tywin admitted, scanning my face for any reaction.

“Tyrion needs someone sweet, I feel. He’s a protective person by nature. Did she appear pleased by the match?” I questioned as Tywin poured more wine.

“She seemed content enough. She seemed to be laughing with him at the feast, and there was a bedding ceremony. I was told so anyways, I didn’t care to stay for very long.”

“Why not?”

“Social events like weddings have become intolerable without you.”

We both stared at each other for a moment, and an odd look flashed through his eyes. For a second, I could’ve sworn he almost looked nervous.

But no, the look passed and he continued to drink.

“What else has happened? Any news outside of Kings Landing?”

“Would you like the good or the bad first?”

“The bad, of course.”

“Stannis is at Castle Black right now. By all accounts, he intends to take the north soon,” Tywin revealed, making my eyebrows knit together.

“Jon Snow is allowing this?”

“Stannis saved them all from the Wildlings. I believe, due to that, Jon Snow is forced to stay out of it. Plus, it may grant him a good opportunity. There’s nobody for Robb Stark to fight if Stannis is dead,” Tywin explained, shrugging.

“Stannis won’t settle. He’ll want his daughter on the throne. He genuinely believes the rumors,” I reminded, knowing how far men like him would go. It was respectable if nothing else.

“And only his most loyal supporters will care enough to try and get her there. Let the north deal with it for now.”

“Tywin, I know it is less of a concern for you, but I want all seven kingdoms in harmony. Should Stannis march with his entire army, I want to send at least a few hundred men. I know there’s still some bitterness, but it’s a start,” I suggested, knowing that if we did not heal relations with the North we’d be doomed forever.

I watched Tywin contemplate, sitting down in one of the chairs by my table.

“Who’s to say the Starks won’t side with Stannis? Ned Stark died for him, after all,” he proposed, making me scoff and shake my head.

“The North is already beaten down and tired. They’ve all just returned home after years at war, do you imagine they’ll be jumping to fight over another man’s war? They followed Robb Stark because they believe in Robb Stark, not Stannis Baratheon. More than anything, I can’t imagine they’ll respond kindly to someone they already know intends to take the north,” I reasoned, knowing that often they were loyal to themselves and themselves only.

“And what if Robb Stark decides to back Stannis?”

“He won’t. Robb Stark is perfectly content as King in the North, he’s not going to kneel before Stannis Baratheon. We let him call himself whatever he damn pleases, and in return we keep a delicate alliance between the seven kingdoms. Not to mention, his sister is married to my brother. Declaring for Stannis would certainly… complicate things for their family,” I convinced, watching Tywin nod and sigh in his seat. My seat, technically.

“Very well. Should it come to that, I’ll permit some 500 men to go and fight. Stannis has about 6,000 men. The northerners and 500 men from us should be sufficient,” he granted, making me quite content.

“What of Tyrell troops?”

“Robb Stark has already spoken with you, I don’t think he’ll be offended. Help from Lannister soldiers is what they need to ensure peace, and it will only take us longer to summon troops from Highgarden,” he reasoned. I nodded, knowing that he was right. We didn’t exactly need my own troops, and the distance from here to Winterfell was already far enough.

“Thank you, Tywin. I know I must always keep what is best for my house first, but when I don’t need to worry about that, I let myself do what’s best for the realm. A house prospers most in a peaceful kingdom, after all,” I noted.

“Certainly.”

“With that sorted out, what is the good news?” I asked, motioning for him to come back over to me. I felt like we were far apart despite being in the same room. He rose, joining me on the sofa again. I grabbed at his shoulders and pulled myself into his lap.

“Rather adventurous, aren’t we?”

“How do you imagine I’ve acquired so many scars?”

Tywin merely smiled and gave me a gentle kiss.

“Daenerys Targaryen is dead.”

My eyes instantly went wide, and I shifted to look at him more directly.

“What? How?”

“Murdered by a pathetic uprising of Merenese nobles upset about her ending slavery there. They snuck up on her in the fighting pits, the entire thing seems to have been quite the slaughter,” he said, making me take a deep breath as I processed it.

It certainly seemed that one by one, our threats were dying out or retreating. Things, for the first time in years, looked quite bright for the Tyrells and the Lannisters.

“What of her dragons?”

“As far as I’m concerned, one is still missing, and the other two remain locked up underneath the temples. I don’t think anyone is brave enough to free them,” he said, hands placed sweetly above my hips. I sighed.

“We ought to keep track of the free one. As for the other two, I’ll pray they burn down all of Mereen eventually. The city seems doomed to outright collapse now that Daenerys is dead,” I reasoned, knowing it was already fragile enough while she was alive.

“Yes, I imagine it will. Breaker of chains,” Tywin mumbled, making me quietly laugh at the irony.

“The Targaryen bloodline gone with her, what a thought,” I sighed, considering just how temporary everything was, even the houses and our names.

“It’s becoming a bit more than a thought for the Lannisters,” Tywin grumbled, leaning his head back onto the sofa. It was undeniably true, if I was honest. Tommen and Myrcella bore both the name Baratheon, and neither Jaime nor Tyrion had any children.

“Tyrion’s going to be married soon,” I pointed out, making him scoff.

“To a Frey girl.”

I merely shrugged, smiling as I leaned in to kiss his neck. I felt his hands grip me a bit more firmly.

“Perhaps, Tywin, you have another option,” I whispered, tugging at his collar a bit for more access.

“Which is what?” He muttered in reply, hands coming down to my ass now.

“Produce another heir,” I suggested, grinding on his crotch slightly as he groaned.

“You ought to be careful, if you keep that up I’m going to want to fuck you, and if I do that your stitches are going to split,” he warned, one hand coming up to fondle my breasts.

“You don’t need to fuck me. I want to taste you,” I mumbled, kissing him. He showed a degree of surprise, especially as I reached down to start undoing his pants.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered after a moment, cupping my face to show me he meant it.

“I know I don’t. I want to. You told me you would teach me how to touch you, and that’s what I’d like,” I said with a smile, moving off of him to start taking his pants off.

He kicked off his boots, looking at me thoughtfully and nodding. I took his pants off and undid his coat, not wanting anything to get in the way.

He swallowed as I pressed my body against his, kissing his neck and slowly reaching into his underclothes. He was still relatively soft when I touched him, so I began to touch and rub, appreciating his sharp inhales as I did.

“(Y/N), if you end up learning quickly, there’s something else we could try,” he said, bucking into my hand just the tiniest bit.

“And what is that?”

“It’s for you to find out, sweet girl.”

I smiled, noticing he’d taken to calling me that whenever he was aroused. And physically, he was also becoming aroused beneath my hand. He wasn’t all the way there yet, but he was hard enough that I began to pull down the rest of Tywin’s clothes and free him.

I swallowed at the sight of his erection, not sure where to go from here. Tywin’s hand came to my back, and he smiled ever so softly at me.

“Do you want some help?”

I nodded, and he brought his hand to the back of my head instead, gently lowering it until I was close up.

“Do what feels right, and I’ll tell you if there’s something else you ought to try. The only thing is to not use your teeth, thank you,” he said, making me look up at him and laugh.

“If you start misbehaving, maybe I will.”

He chuckled at that, and I focused myself back on him, taking the base of him into my hand and carefully licking his tip.

I felt him shiver, and it encouraged me to continue, slowly taking him in my mouth and letting my tongue move against him.

He groaned now, taking some of my hair in his hands and gripping onto it as I lowered my head even further. I took his cock as deep into my mouth as I could, gagging when it hit the back of my throat. That made him moan even louder, though, and I made a mental note of it.

I remembered what Cerella had told me too, and began to suck on him, which elicited quite the moan, followed by my name.

“(Y/N)… gods yes… keep doing that,” he whined, back arching into me as I continued to suck his tip and use my hand on the rest of him. Tywin was a pathetic, moaning mess, and I felt pride in knowing I’d make him like this.

I felt him smack my ass, and I moaned out around him, which he seemingly liked, as he threw his head back and quivered.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N) wait…” he mumbled, bringing my head up with his hands. I looked up at him curiously, but he merely reached over and grabbed me, standing up from the couch and carrying me over to the bed.

“We’re going to try something, hm? I want to make you feel good,” he said, sitting me on the bed and pulling my shoes off. After that, he removed my underclothes but not my dress. From there I watched him get onto the bed and lay down, removing his coat before motioning for me to come over.

“(Y/N), what I want you to do is to straddle my chest, can you do that?” He questioned, to which I nodded and did so. He hummed contently and motioned for me to turn around.

“Good, now take me in your mouth again,” he instructed, to which I eagerly bent down and did so. He moaned, and I felt him pushing my skirts up even more and letting them stay up on my back. I felt his hands at my hips, and after a moment I realized what he was going to do.

I moaned as I felt his tongue between my folds, back arching as he found my clit and lapped at it faithfully.

I couldn’t stop moaning around his cock, even as I continued to suck on him and rub him. That in turn made him moan, and it felt wonderful between my legs. I was glad more than anything that it wasn’t putting pressure on my stitches, and there was relatively little pain.

More than anything, it was just overwhelming pleasure.

I pushed my head down on his cock again, gagging and drooling on him in a way that felt oddly satisfying. His hips were bucking up, fucking my mouth as I moaned and sucked on him obediently.

I felt his hands on my ass, spreading me even further apart as he began to suck on my clit, his nose bumping up against me as well.

I was grateful to be riding something besides a horse for the first time in a month and a half.

As I continued to suck and gag, I could tell that Tywin was getting close. His moans were becoming louder and higher pitched just as they had the last time we’d laid together.

My own orgasm seemed to be coming as well, and as I felt Tywin’s tongue lick my clit directly I could no longer hold back. My legs were shaking and I moaned around him, whimpering as he held me down and continued to bury his face between my legs.

Just then, I felt his own cum spurting into my mouth and Tywin also began to moan particularly loud. I swallowed all of it, removing myself from his cock and trying to catch my breath, my head resting on his hip.

We both laid there, content and overwhelmed as we tried to catch our breaths.

“Was that a satisfactory welcome home?” He asked, still panting. I laughed softly, letting my hands roam the warm skin of his hips and legs.

“Yes, it was. Thank you, Tywin.”

“Of course, my dear.”

He gave my ass a gentle pat, squeezing as I began to lift myself up, lying down beside him and cuddling close as he cleaned himself up, adjusting his clothes as well.

“Did you swallow it all?” He questioned upon realizing there wasn’t a mess. I smiled and nodded, and there was a spark in his eyes that I enjoyed quite deeply.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, kissing my forehead. We laid together like that for a bit, chatting lightly about random topics and teasing one another, just as we always did.

It was reassuring to me that even as Stannis readied himself at Castle Black, and even as a full grown dragon roamed unattended, all would be well for us. It seemed that together, there was not a challenge Tywin and I could not face. Slowly, the realm was coming back together. At least Westeros was, anyways, and it was not Stannis Baratheon doing it, it was not the late Daenerys Targaryen, or even Tommen.

It was us.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice @muscari-fae @lostgirllulu @abigfanofgameofthrones

#tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #tywin imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #house lannister #a lion in the garden

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chloe-skywalker · 6 months

Text

Protection - Jaime Lannister

Jaime x fem!reader Stark

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 2,033

Summary: Reader is a Stark stuck in King's Landing after everything and including her fathers death. The only one that seems to care about her is shockingly Jaime Lannister.

Authors Note: I think after the changes Jaime’s character made from being held captive by the Stark’s and losing his hand plus his time with Brienne that he would be protective of the Stark girls. The oath he made to Catelyn he didn’t want to break, so I think that means something. Just like he couldn’t himself but he helped himself and Breinne by sending her to go look after and find Arya and Sansa. - I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be romantic or him protecting her because she resembled what he thought a daughter of his own would be like or if he was honoring his promise to Catelyn. I tried to leave it open.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

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Y/n didn’t understand what she had done in life to deserve this treatment. To have the recent events happen in her life. To watch her little brother almost die from a horrible fall, to then having to watch her father be executed, she didn’t know where her youngest sister was, she had to watch her other younger sister be tormented by a brat that was only going to become a awful king, and her older brother by a year had started a war to get them back with their mother by his side.

But how she had managed to have the Queen’s rath bestowed upon her in physical abuse. Y/n didn’t know how that happened and she knew for fact she hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

But Y/n had been in Kings Landing long enough to know that Cersei and Joffery didn’t need reasons to be cruel. It just seemed to be part of their personality.

Tyrion was the only kind one to Y/n and Sansa. Along with his friend Bronn and man servant Podrick. Y/n didn’t trust anyone else in the Red Keep.

Lately Y/n noticed Jaime, ever since he got back he had been trying to get close to her and Sansa. But neither Stark knew what to make of it. He really was trying to get closer to Y/n, but Y/n was worried that it was some kind of plan from Cersei.

It was a normal sunny day, Y/n actually thought it’d be a good day to go out and walk or ride but leaving her room? That didn’t feel like a good idea, given her appearance.

Suddenly in the incredibly quiet room there were sounds of knocking on her chamber doors. Y/n gave a soft ‘come in’, just loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear.

Upon seeing Jaime Lannister Y/n nervously started ringing her hands at what they might have planned for her now. “Ser Jaime. To what do I owe this visit to?”

Jaime shook his head. “I’m not here on any business.”

“Oh?” Y/n was curious but she still wanted to be cautious. So she kept her head down. For more than just that reason though.

Jaime noticed the way she was holding herself and it reminded him of a scared animal. So he raised his arms to show he didn’t mean her any harm. Her behavior made his eyes fill with concern. “Y/n, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/n realized that this could be very bad so she needed to back track. “Ser Jaime, I-I meant no o-offense.” She stuttered shaking her head but still keeping it down with her hair framing her face to cover her face from his view.

“You made none. No reason to apologize.” He quickly reassured.

As they stood there Jaime took more notice of things. Things that were making him more concerned by the second. So he took enough steps to be standing right in front of her.

“Y/n, look at me. Please.” Jaime asked, but when he noticed how she was so hesitant to do as he asked. Jaime slowly raised his hand to lift her chin, as gently as possible to not spook her. When she was finally looking him in the eye, face to face is when Jaime noticed. She has a bruised cheek bone which to him looked almost like it belonged to a fading black eye, and she had a cut on her eyebrow and her lip. No wonder she was hiding her face, he thought. “Who did this?”

“No one, Ser Jaime. I fell that’s all.” Y/n quickly tried to dismiss, hoping he’d let it go. If she said something and he was sent by Cersei, then it’d get worse. If he was genuinely concerned for her and she told him, he might not believe her. His twin sister did it after all.

“Please don’t lie to me, Lady Y/n.” He pleaded with her. His concern was growing more and more. But he also had his suspicions. “Who did this?”

Y/n cast her sight back down to the floor, not wanting to lie to his face. With how much genuine concern was in his eyes and actions, she felt bad lying to him. “No one, Ser.”

Jaime let out a sigh, he could clearly see she wasn’t going to verbalize her answer. Which inwardly gave him his answer anyway and he could feel anger bubbling up inside of him. He knew in his gut who did this, and he wasn’t going to let it go. “Can I see you later Milady?”

Y/n nodded, stepping back still not lifting her gaze. Of course she said he could. He seemed to be one of the only people who cared as of late, but also she didn’t really have a choice. Not in her situation. “If you so wish to, Ser Jaime.”

Her behavior honestly scared Jaime slightly. She didn’t seem like the same girl he met in Winterfell or the same one that was in Kings Landing when he lft and was captured.

Ever since that encounter Jaime had been visiting and spending a lot more time with Y/n Stark. No one would bother her with him at his side.

But Jaime had yet to have that talk with his sister. But today was the day, he had heard some concerning things from the handmaidens assigned to Y/n and he was fuming.

“Ah, brother. What is so urgent that you came barging into my chambers without knocking.” Cersei spoke sarcastically as he barged into her room.

“What did you do to Y/n Stark?” He asked, getting straight to the point, face red with anger.

“The little bitch. Well, what did she say?” Cersei scoffed at even turning to look at her brother.

“Nothing. She said nothing. I came here to you on my own.” Jaime wanted to yell, how could she be so cold.

“How do you know it was me? The girl is quite clumsy.” Cersei smirked, and Jaime wondered if Y/n’s excuse of falling was something she was told to say.

“Oh, I know your handy work when I see it.” He scoffed stating a fact that not even Cersei could argue with.

Cersei could tell he wasn’t gonna drop it once she looked at him, so she sighed and said. “I assure you she deserved it.”

“I can guarantee that she didn’t.” He countered. Jaime knew how petty his sister could be and revenge was something she enjoyed. She wasn’t going to fool him.

“You weren’t here.” She shook her head and growled out her words. Why was he even bringing this up?

“Doesn’t matter.” Jaime didn’t need to be there to know Y/n didn’t deserve his sister's warth.

“Why do you care for this girl?” Cersei asked with a furrowed brow.

“Cersei-”

“No. Why? Why do you care for her so much? After everything her family’s done to ours?!” She yelled at him getting up from her vanity table and stormed over to where he stood.

“She had no part in that!” He yelled back, done with trying to be social.

“Why do you protect her?!” Cersei spat with clear jealousy. Of course she noticed him protecting her but why was what she couldn’t figure out and that angered her more and more. Someone having her twin's attention other than her never sits well with the golden haired Queen.

“Don’t touch her again, Cersei. I mean it.” Jaime stated in a low voice. His expression and tone shocked Cersei. He’s never used either on her and deep down it did shake her a bit. He’s never been this mad at her, or this deeply apparently.

Jaime was going to make sure that Y/n was taken care of. No one would harm her ever again. That he’d promise her. Not even his sister. If Cersei did she’d regret it because he was done with her cruelness.

“And what will you do if I do decide to touch her again?” She questioned as he looked at her so seriously she honestly was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“You don’t want to find out.” He stated before turning to leave, as he opened the door Jaime felt pride in himself. He stood up to his sister for something he believed in.

“Is that a threat?” Cersei asked with narrowed eyes trained on her brother's back.

“Its a promise.” Jaime said before slamming her door behind him. He felt good and now he felt a weight lifted off of himself and Y/n. Sure he still had to watch their backs but Cersei wouldn’t do anything to go against him if she was as smart as she acts.

^ ^ ^

It had been a pretty normal day but Y/n just felt that they all blended together since so much had happened. Things had shockingly gotten better since Jaime and her had become close. But nothing good ever lasts is what she had learned being in King's Landing.

“Come in.” Y/n said upon hearing knocking at her room doors. She turned to face the door after hearing it open, seeing Jaime enter with caution. “Ser Jaime.”

“Lady Y/n.” He bowed his head with a soft smile on his lips, but as he looked around the room and noticed the uneaten food sitting on the table. Jaime’s concern came bubbling back up 10 fold. The handmaidens had told him she was skipping some meals and it worried him. But seeing it was worse. “The handmaidens said you haven’t eaten today.”

Y/n shrugged looking away from him. “Not very hungry.”

Jaime knew that part of it could be the stress of what's happened. It could also be her injuries that made it painful to chew, or it could be something Jaime really hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t even want to think about that idea.

Jaime stepped over to her, brushing her hair away from her face with his hand. Uncovering the still recovering injuries to her face. “Does it hurt?”

Of course it hurt still but he had been so kind to her she didn’t want to worry him. So she shook her head softly. “Not much anymore, Ser.”

“You don’t have to keep up the formalites with me, Y/n.” He smiled softly hoping to make her more comfortable around him. Show her he meant no harm.

“I shouldn’t-” She looked at him with wide scared eyes.

“I’m telling you you can. So you can.” Jaime stopped her calmly, looking her in the eyes. He could see how scared she was to do anything that might cause her to be harmed. Anything that might make it so she could be punished. “I won’t hurt you like my sister.”

“I-” Y/n’s eyes widened, just when he made her a little more comfortable again he say’s that. Y/n shook her head at him in fear. She didn’t tell him who did it so how did he know? Now that he knew what would happen to her? What would the Queen do to her now? Y/n was panicking on the inside.

“You didn’t have to tell me, and don’t worry I’ll protect you from Cersei.” Jaime told her, she had to know. But seeing her so panicked made his heart clench, so he started running his hand through her hair to comfort her and calm her nerves and mind. Jaime grimaced at her reaction for a second. This poor girl was terrified and it was all because of his family.

“How?” Y/n asked him while looking at him like he’s crazy. How could he, a knight, protect her from the Queen? Nobody could control Cersei.

“In any way I can, and I will. She will never harm you again. No one will. Not on my watch.” Jaime vowed to the poor girl that was stuck in this predicament. Not by her own choosing had any of this happened to her. And he was going to stop it and make her life better.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

#x reader #y/n #imagine #imagines #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister imagines #GOT #game of thrones #GOT imagine #GOT imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #cersei lannister #house stark #jaime lannister x stark reader #jaime lannister x stark!reader

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countrymusiclover · 8 months

Text

Fish Have Claws Too ( Jaime Lannister x Tully OC) - Tag list - @icefrye19 @starkleila @lover-of-books-and-tea

The Raptor Wranglers Daughter (Owen x reader, daughter OC) Tag list - just ask to be added @annielr @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @abaker74 @agentxx92

Hi, my readers, I am unfortunately taking these two books down because I am stuck on what to do next. Hope you all understand 🙏 😊

#jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister x oc #jaime lannister fic #jaime lannister fanfiction #jaime lannister fanfic #fish have claws too #the raptor wranglers daughter #owen grady fic #owen grady x reader #owen grady x y/n #owen grady x you #jurassic world x reader

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januaryembrs · 1 year

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THE LION'S SHARE OF WARMTH | Jaime Lannister x reader

Request: ay!! heres to 1k!! :DD can I please have a Jaime Lannister x reader, where the nights too cold to sleep alone even in front of a fire, forcing them to cuddle to keep warm?

Description: A cold night between two enemies leads to an embarrassing wake up call.

word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: none, swearing? Mention of the war going on ?

main masterlist

For a girl born into the North, there was nothing you hated more than the cold. Your mother said you had just never grown accustomed to the climate, always insisting on the thickest pelts to cover your bed despite the fact your family had lived through the thickest Winters spanning back generations.

Which is why you swore all twenty of your fingers and toes were damn near ready to fall off when you were forced to sleep outside on the road to King’s Landing. Call it being spoiled by coming from a respectable lord’s family, but had you not had a good reason to be here, you would be long gone and in front of a roaring fire by now on a night like this.

That respectable lord just so happened to be Wyman Manderly. Your house had fallen to near mania the moment the war of the five kings began, and you had fled to Robb and Catelyn Stark with your twin brothers Wylis and Wendel. The Starks and the Manderlys had always been closely allied, and as all Northern houses you had grown closely knit with the great Wolf house.

Which was why when Jaime Lannister appeared in a cage on the Stark encampment, bloodied and dirtier than you’d ever seen the once proud lion, you knew Catelyn Stark was fighting with every tooth and nail to get Sansa and Arya back from the capital.

And who better to send to bargain for the two girls than Brienne of Tarth, the strongest swords woman in Westeros, and Y/N Manderly, daughter of the richest Northern family. Since you already had money of your own and your family was incredibly loyal to the Starks, Catelyn and Robb agreed you were unlikely to be swayed by anything Cersei could offer you and could discuss an offer with the Lannisters like the astute and academic woman you were.

Which is how you got here, on a narrow and freezing road to the capital with Brienne and Jaime Lannister.

“My legs tire, we need to rest soon,” Jaime whinged for the umpteenth time that day as you and Brienne carted him in chains through the rough terrain. Well Brienne held the irons, seeing as she could overpower the man if needs be, while you had little more than a dagger to fend him off.

You shot a look at the tall woman, the two of you mirroring each other with a glare of annoyance at his theatrics. You ignored him, continuing your steady pace onwards. The Lannister man seemed to be unused to people, especially women, not pouring over him with affection and lavishing him with whatever he requested since he began digging his heels into the earth like a lame mule.

“I said we need rest. Do you really think my sister will take kindly to me being returned to her as a cripple?” Jaime complained, yanking against the bonds to get your attention. You wished to disregard him some more until he said: “If I am to be exchanged for the girls and I come home bruised and deformed, what do you think she’ll do to Sansa and Arya?”

You and Brienne halted. You hadn’t quite thought about treating him kindly since it was his forsaken family that had started this war in the first place.

You looked to Brienne for assurance, the Tarth woman giving you a small nod in response. The two of you spun to advance on the man who wore an annoyingly winning smile at the fact he had gotten you both to listen.

“We are stopping until the moment the day breaks, do you hear?” You growled at him, only making his cracked lips draw wider. “And wipe that smirk of your face, there will be no fire tonight,”

Gods be known you were so stupid to have said that. In punishing him you had punished yourself. Brienne didn’t seem to mind the frosty night air as she bundled up under her furs, sleeping soundly as if it were another night in a bed.

“A Northern woman who feels the cold, that’s new,” Jaime snickered from his place behind you. Your body must have been shaking more than you’d hoped. You felt the night air kiss every inch of your skin as the wind whipped even the slightest bit and it sent a vicious shiver through your body.

“Shut up or I’ll maim you, Lannister,” You both knew it was an empty threat, one you’d barely made through without your teeth chattering loudly. It only served to make him chuckle, and you heard him shuffle closer to you.

Drawing your blade, you were quick to raise the sharp tip to prod against the soft of his stomach. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You seethed.

“Relax. You’re clearly cold, and Cersei would have both your heads if I returned to King’s Landing with the shivering sickness,” Jaime said, attempting to slip an arm around your waist that you swiftly batted away with your arm.

“I’d rather risk your bitch of a sister than be anywhere near you,” You spat, raising the dagger up to his chin, “If you dare touch me in my sleep I’ll send you back to her in pieces, do you understand?”

He raised his hands in defence, rolling back away from you and muttering something foul under his breath. You could tell his confidence was knocked that the Jaime Lannister couldn’t have his way with every woman he came across. Any other woman in Westeros would give an arm and leg to cuddle with him for warmth, any woman but you.

You closed your eyes, the flame of anger enough to ward off the chill for just long enough that you were able to get to sleep on wrath alone.

Your face blazed with similar heat when you awoke to the feeling of strong laughter humming through a set of ribs. You realised very quickly that your face was not pressed into the dirt like it was when you fell asleep last night but instead against someone's clothed spine.

“I thought you said I’d be in pieces by now?” Came a raspy voice, and you shoved yourself upright aghast. Not only were you spooning the damn king’s guard whose very soul you loathed, but in no way could you blame him for it happening seeing as it was him facing away from you.

Your cold body had sought him out for warmth in your sleep.

“Embarrass-”

“That’s ENOUGH, Lannister,”

#jaime lannister fanfiction #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister angst #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones

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queeninthesouth-side · 2 years

Text

not a request, I’m just fixating on Tywin Lannister <3 the timeline of this rather ignores canon, but as it is, Tywin is about 15 years older than !reader, Jaime and Cersei are about 8 years younger than !reader. Joanna died giving birth to the twins, so no Tyrion (sorry!), and there’s no Robert’s Rebellion, so no War of the Five Kings either. There’s allusion to a battle in the Capitol when Jaime and Cersei are toddlers, and i pretended this was to overthrow aerys in my head, though I gave zero details about it. Anyway, enjoy!

Edit: it’s nearly 6k words whoops

A Fool’s Errand

Tywin Lannister x fem!Reader

Loving Tywin Lannister was a fool’s errand, or so everyone said. But you, the sweet young daughter of the Warrior Lord Dumain, had never shied from a challenge yet. Not in our blood, your father would say. Warriors fight for what is right, and for what they want, my girl. And you wanted the Old Lion himself.

It had begun quite accidentally, and not even because of Lord Lannister, but his wife. She had hosted a tourney you’d gone to as a girl, and you thought her the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen (the portrait of your long dead mother non-withstanding). She had glided around the Rock, where the tourney was held, and her golden hair and dress had caught the eye of everyone, naturally.

The first day you’d followed her around, a girl of no more than eight having an easy time staying hidden in order to sate your curiosity. On the third day, Lady Joanna had spoken.

“Come out from there, my little shadow,” she hummed from her bench in the gardens. Shyly, you stepped out from behind an enormous pot and looked at your feet. Your father told you not to get in the way of anyone and to listen to your septa (who you’d managed to slip away from every day since your arrival). Your worry must’ve been evident, for she reached out a graceful hand and beckoned you closer. She must’ve tired easily from her round belly, which was too large to hold just one babe, you’d overheard your septa mention.

“You must be Lord Renhaal’s little girl,” her sweet voice said, pulling you from your childish musing.

“Yes, my lady,” you replied softly. She smiled, and you understood how people loved her instantly. You felt you’d do anything to keep her smiling at you.

“And what wonderful manners, forgetting all the spying, of course.” Though her words were chastisement, her face belied no displeasure.

“I wasn’t spying, my lady,” you defended, desperate to clear up the misunderstanding. “Father said, before we came here, that Lord Lannister was a serious man, and not to get in his way out of everyone here. And you’re so nice! I was only curious about what sort of lady would make a serious man happy… my lady.”

Drawing you closer so you were sat next to her on the bench, Lady Joanna began to impart knowledge you would never forget.

“My mother used to tell me that even the most stoic of men need a lady to love them. Because, little shadow, good women make good men better, and that makes a good man’s wife the best sort of woman. And I have always wanted to be the best I can.”

You nodded, understanding that love was important to men and women both, if what Lady Joanna was saying was true. Loving a man like Tywin Lannister was made to seem easy with this knowledge. And perhaps, that is where you’d gotten the lesson wrong.

“You will love a serious man one day, little lady.” The knowing glimmer in green eyes was lost on you.

“My little warrior,” your father started. Stood at the docks, twenty and one summers old, an accomplished archer and peerless sailor, you will always be your father’s little girl. “Do not be rash out there. I know you are excited and adventure is in our bones, but you surely cannot fault a father for worrying over his daughter.”

Smiling and stepping closer to him, his large body older but no less impressive, you reassure him that you were raised by the most battle-experienced man in the realm, and the most successful to boot. You would be fine, you told him, and he trusted your words enough to let you board your ship, one he’d had made just for you for your nameday two years earlier.

The Shadow Maiden was a fine ship made of Essosi ashwood, a dark, grey-stained wood with sails green as your family’s house colours, and a hooded maiden figurehead dark as the rest of the ship with golden accents in the dagger and map held in her hands. It was small, which meant fast, but solid from the heavier wood that comprised the ship. For where you were going, you’d be thankful for these qualities.

“There is no need to worry, father. I do not mean to break our streak of victories, and so I will not. I will return with what I seek, I assure you.”

“And you still won’t tell me what it is you endeavour to find?” You shake your head, eyes turning down lest he read your thoughts. “It hasn’t got anything to do with Lord Lannister, does it? I cannot force him to accept a marriage contract, even for all the treasure in the world, and neither can you, my dear.”

It was a sore topic of conversation, the two rejected marriage proposals that had been sent at your behest to Lord Lannister, one by raven and one by you in person. His wife had been gone for nearly a decade and a half, and somehow, in your limited interactions with the Old Lion, the late Lady Joanna’s words made more and more sense. You could see plain as day his desire to have his wife back, and though you ached to be able to give him this, the next best thing was you, yourself. A woman who understood and was understood by his late wife.

Shaking your thoughts away, you accept your father’s kiss upon your cheek and his tight embrace before embarking your ship, beginning the month long trip to Essos.

“My Lady,” you heard behind you. Turning to see Lord Kevan Lannister, you dipped into a perfect curtsy, and greeted him demurely. At twenty summers old, you were considered the fairest and most eligible of Westerosi nobility. Everyone could see this but Lord Lannister, whom you had come to convince a betrothal to. Lord Kevan was a gentleman, and a doting father and husband to his young son and pregnant wife.

“My Lord. What may I do for you?”

He frowned, the furrowing of brows a far cry from his usually pleasant expression.

“My Lady, I fear you will not be received well in your request. I only wish to impart some insight into my Lord brother, whom I know well, of course. He is not a kindly man, and nothing and no one could sway him once he’s made a decision. I only say this to warn you, but knowing your father, you are likely as determined as he in all things.”

Heart dropping but smile staying firm, you considered his words carefully before speaking.

“I am determined, yes, but mostly, your brother is the only man, save my father, who will do what needs to be done to carry on a legacy. Your brother has only one son, and I hear he is rather keen on the Knight’s Guild… And I confess, I do not wish him to be—“ lonely, was the word you would have used about anyone else, but to imply that would certainly offend, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. “—well, someone told me that even the most stoic of men need a lady, and I’m rather set on him. If he rejects me, I will graciously excuse myself and not bother him again. But I must try, or I’ll never forgive myself.”

Your skirts whispered as you slowly paced in the parlour you’d settled in. The gold was a bit much, you thought privately, but the large window overlooking the Sunset Sea was worth the ostentatiousness.

Lord Kevan looked at you for a long moment, as though he’d heard the words before himself, before nodding and offering his arm to escort you to Lord Lannister’s solar.

It had gone worse than you’d imagined, and you’d imagined the worst case scenario. The truth was, Tywin Lannister was not just serious. He was borderline cruel, sly as a fox and intimidating as his house’s sigil. He’d all but snarled at you when you finished your proposal.

“You wasted my time for that? I have already rejected your offer—twice now. I have better things to be doing,” he said, standing above you where you sat opposite him. “There is nothing marriageable to me about a slip of a woman who fancies herself a lady and an adventurer, a mere girl inexperienced in life and cavorting as though she is touched by the Maiden herself. Hear me now, girl,” he growled, green eyes spitting like wildfire, “even if you marched in here with Brightroar in your arms, I would not marry you.”

And of course, the sweet image of him even reluctantly agreeing and you supporting his lordship over his subjects for the rest of your days faded away like a dying sun. Face placid, hands steady and voice clear, you simply said, “that sounds like a challenge.” He didn’t have time to berate you for your insolence, for you were already out the door and making your way to your wheelhouse, insisting on leaving that instant.

The people of the Rock would no doubt think you a cowardess who tucked tail and ran in the face of the Lion’s roar. But they did not know you, did not know the sparkle in your eye was not tears, but determination.

Docking in Essos was made simpler by the permits your father had arranged for you, even if the dock master insisted you pay extra. Your men, men you’d known since they were capable of getting seasick still, had made promises to ensure your safety, but even twelve broad sailors were not enough to sway a man’s greed. It mattered little in the end, you would restock water and food as much as possible before circumnavigating the coast of Essos. Another sennight of sailing the coast, then a moon navigating open waters and finally, you’d made it to the ruins of Valyria.

The once great castle by the cliffside had mostly fallen into the sea, and the jagged protrusions of stone were less than ideal for a galleon, but your little ship was nimbler and sleeker than any hulking vessels that thought to shortcut through these waters.

“My Lady, we’re nearing the Ruins. Shall we anchor and rest through the night?” You agreed that was best, and though the anticipation thrummed through you all night, you were rested enough by dawn to begin what you’d spent over two months sailing for.

For two days you’d steered your ship through previously untraversable waters, before coming across what seemed yet another shipwreck. At first, it looked like every other one you’d passed: broken, rotted and empty. You’d nearly sailed right by it when you caught sight of a lioness figurehead.

In the history book that had found its way across Westeros to you (anonymously, though you suspected Lord Kevan would be the only one to have possession of such a tome) it said King Tommen of the Rock, First of His Name, had sailed the Vibrant Lionness named for his wife who had hair red as the setting sun. And here it was, you thought, anchoring and row-boating to the half-submerged wreckage. By the light of the midday sun, and your own willingness to get dirty (thank goodness you were among good men who wouldn’t think twice of you wearing breeches for the duration of the journey) you had begun searching for your boon.

And in what would’ve been the captain’s quarters, next to a curled up skeleton in rags, was a scabbard holding a sword. You held your breath, stepping cautiously to avoid the most rotten planks of wood on the uneven floor, before grabbing the sheath, and revealing Brightroar. The smile you wore as you rowed back to the Shadow Maiden was nothing short of radiant. Welcomed with a great cheer, you promised your men that weather and gods willing, you’d be home in six short weeks.

It was closer to being seven weeks, but finally being docked at the port by your father’s Keep, you were able to breathe. You’d done it. You’d retrieved what all of Westeros knew Tywin Lannister desired most. And though your heart panged, the desire to be his wife hardly diminishing even after being eviscerated by him, your pride won out. If anything, Lord Lannister would owe you a debt, even if you’d never collect on it.

“My girl!” your father roared as you disembarked the ship, arms wrapping around you and swinging you in a wide arc. It was nearing your nameday again, and he worried you wouldn’t be home in time to celebrate. “And dare I ask if you found what you were looking for?”

You smiled beatifically, and it was answer enough for you lord father. He insisted you stay for your nameday, which was a week after your return, and would go for a week at least. Being his only daughter, and one of only two surviving children of his, there would never be a year he didn’t revel in having you with him still.

During this fortnight, you’d learned that Jaime Lannister had in fact been selected by the Knight’s Guild as the youngest member in history, and would therefore not inherit his family’s seat. Jaime had been a sweet boy, and you’d doted on him on the many occasions you’d seen him in his childhood. Cersei, while a little cold at first, had followed her brother’s adoration of you after a time. You were happy to know Jaime was doing what he loved most, even if you felt a twinge of guilt at how it proved you right to the Old Lion after all.

Having made the arrangements with Lord Kevan (Lord Lannister would not even respond to any ravens from you, he’d mentioned in a letter once) to visit the Rock under the guise of the twins’ name day celebration, you set off once again to the far Westerlands.

Your skin had gotten some shades darker from the expedition to Valyria, and your hair had lightened at the ends slightly. You’d grown more lean, but stronger, your muscles toned as opposed to bulky, like your older brother’s. In short, you were more formidable in appearance than the last time you’d been to the Rock. Your dress, the same deep green as your family’s colour, flattered your waist and hips, the neckline revealing only the top of your collarbones and a small sliver of your shoulder with long, wide sleeves that fluttered around you as you walked up the steps and into the maw of the lion.

Most of Westeros had heard of your expedition and many at the Rock who’d travelled far and wide were certain you’d present Jaime and Cersei with a priceless gift. It was priceless, you thought, but not quite for the twins. For Jaime, you’d actually gotten a fine stallion, one bred by your father and brother personally some years ago, and for Cersei, a necklace of diamonds cut to appear as shards of sparking glass inlaid in Valyrian steel. You knew Cersei was jealous over the Valyrian steel dagger her brother had gotten some namedays ago, and thought this may be enough to settle that dissatisfaction she still carried.

Three days of celebration gave way to the dawn of the twins’ actual nameday, which would be the day you presented Jaime and Cersei their gifts, and a final gift for the House of Lannister as a whole.

A fine spread was laid out for everyone to break their fast, and per tradition (which began when the twins were much younger and far too impatient to wait until dinner to open gifts) presents were prepared to be opened during the feast. The gardens where the meal was held were expansive and bittersweet to sit in. They reminded you of the Golden Lady, who despite being noble of birth, had tended her own garden herself. Lord Lannister now paid a slew of gardeners to preserve it exactly as it had been left by its keeper.

“We saved yours for last,” Jaime whispered beside you with a mischievous grin. You had not sat far from the Lannister family, mostly due to the Lord’s children’s fondness of you, to his chagrin. He hadn’t looked at you once, pointedly ignoring your entire side of the table, even with the guests he didn’t despise surrounding you on either side.

“Yours are always the best ones,” Cersei added with a secret grin. You laughed at that, and called your men to escort the war horse for Jaime into the gardens. A hush fell over the table as the great Arabian horse, golden of coat, trotted to you at your whistle. He was enormous, as horses bred by your family were known to be, but this horse looked large next to large horses.

“Every great knight needs a steed attuned to him, one that will fight as much for him as with him. He will never listen to another, never let himself be mounted by another. Only you, my lord,” you explain to Jaime as he marvels at the hulking beast.

“I’m honoured, my lady, to receive such a prestigious gift… I shall never fear battle with a mount like this.”

“And with your lion’s heart,” you added fondly, watching as Jaime, as near to manhood a boy can be, gently stroked the horse’s nose before letting it be led to the stables. You felt a heavy gaze on you then, but refused to look at the exact pair of green eyes that had settled on you. “And for the young lionness,” you announce, revealing the fine necklace, “jewellery and dresses are a lady’s armour, and there is no finer necklace than this in all the lands. Made of Valyrian steel, with shards of diamond, it will cut through anything should you use it right. It may save your life one day, my lady, though I shall pray that you never find need of it for that.”

Cersei’s eyes widened slightly, and she hesitated for nary a second before lifting her elaborate braid from her neck and turning for you to fasten it. With her dress of pale gold (so like the image of her mother now that she’d grown) the necklace looked like it was made with the dress in mind.

“Your gifts, as usual, delight my children,” a low voice intoned from the head of the table, the gardens, still silent enough for it, seemed to echo his voice. And once again, you are reminded of what a powerful man he is. Though you are not the lady he desires help from, you delight in his attention nonetheless.

“I have one more gift, if it pleases you, my Lord? I travelled very far to acquire this treasure, and there is no one in Westeros but you who could accept it.” A murmur slithered through the guests, and many eyes were now glued to you in interest, surely anticipating the revelation for the reason of your expedition on the sea they’d all heard about.

“You are most generous,” he said tonelessly, pure disinterest coating each syllable. You nodded gracefully, and with the lessons in ladyhood that had been drilled into you, you curtsied and glided to Ser Romnack, who held a slender, rectangular box engraved with lions with rubies for eyes and golden fangs. Walking back to where Lord Lannister sat upon a dais at a grand table perpendicular to the others, you presented him with the fine box, not looking at him but at the table.

He took it, and with little fanfare, flicked the latch of the box and swung the lid open. His brow furrowed, you noticed from your periphery, but it melted away as fast as it manifested. Instead, Lord Tywin Lannister wore a look of true surprise, his lips parted and eyes fixed on the contents of the box. He stands, looking deeply at you, though you do not look at him. From the box, he revealed Brightroar, the ancestral sword lost to the Lannisters for nearly three centuries. And now it was home, thanks to you.

The crowd’s reaction was far more animated, and almost at once people were clapping and cheering for you, to your embarrassment. You demurely wave away the cheers, accept the grateful embrace from Cersei and the gentlemanly way Jaime held your hand for a few long moments, then returned to your seat to finish the rest of the feast. Shortly after, festivities began again, and it was easy to slip away from the crowd, even if everyone seemed to be seeking you out.

You’d been to the Rock many times before, so finding your way to the parlour you favoured in your visits was possibly as easy with your eyes closed. The parlour with the wide window that overlooked the sea, that was rarely frequented, or so Lord Kevan had mentioned. You settled into a plush settee and began to mentally plan out your return home.

You had promised your father that once you returned from the Rock, you’d marry a lord or heir of his choosing, since he had given you two attempts of your own and you’d used them both on the Lord of the Keep you were in. Perhaps you could admit to a preference for blonds, though your father hardly seemed the type to care about a superficial detail like that.

“I have not known you to shy away from a celebration, especially if my children are involved.”

You hummed, not moving to stand or curtsy, fatigued and uncaring of the consequences therein. “Ah, but you do not know me, my Lord.”

“No,” he agreed, stood by the other side of the settee. “I know little about you, especially if I am to believe you retrieved Brightroar yourself.”

“I had twelve men with me. Men who I trust and who trust me with their lives. It rather makes impossible expeditions that much easier. Trusting them, that is.”

He was silent for a moment, then he spoke once more.

“I told you I would not marry you, even if you had Brightroar in your arms.”

Turning to glare at him, you stood. “I did not travel for four months across seas to find a way to marry you, Lord Lannister,” you said firmly. “Jaime will be the finest knight Westeros has seen in centuries, and he deserves to fight with his family’s sword, as my brother does, as my father and all his fathers before him did.”

He glared fiercely at you, wildfire eyes attempting to burn you with their scorching anger. You returned the glare with an ice cold one of your own, one you’d steadily become known for.

“I suppose you expect this Lannister to pay you the debt you are owed,” he said as though bored. Your glare broke, expression turning neutral.

“I want nothing from you that you are unwilling to give, Lord Lannister. And I’m a woman with enough dignity to bestow my companionship with a man who might appreciate it someday. So, no. I do not expect any repayment. Good day, my Lord.”

The door had barely opened before a large hand flew passed your shoulder to slam it shut.

“Do not walk away from me, girl.”

“I am no girl. I have sailed across the Sunset Sea, traversed the Ruins of Valyria and lived to tell the tale. And beside that, I have honoured the name Lannister by bringing back your greatest desire. I am no more a girl than you are a coward.”

And with that, you’d wrenched the door open and walked speedily to your apartments where your handmaidens awaited you. You told them to arrange for an early departure, and they began packing immediately, sensing your irritation.

It was early evening, and nearing the time of your departure when Jaime and Cersei made to visit. Cersei was, in private, far more emotional than she ever let on in public, and her anger and sadness at you leaving was plain to you. You’d seen her as a little sister when you were younger, but now you wondered if she’d viewed as more of an aunt, or a godsmother. Either way, your long embrace and promises to write were just enough to pacify her. Jaime was more stoic, you’d noticed, trying to be strong for his sister but also leaning into his impression of how a good man acts. It had made you smile, and a little teary, to see them so grown. You’d known them since they were babes, of course, and had even visited frequently for long intervals when they were barely walking while your father fought and won battles in the Capitol with Lord Lannister.

“Don’t fret, my little lions,” you said, holding Cersei again and cupping Jaime’s cheek in your spare palm. “There is nowhere in the world I would not travel to see you both. Even if my future husband forbids me.”

“Husband!?” Cersei shrieked, and strange panic in her eyes as she shared a look with Jaime.

“But I thought you were going to speak to father about a betrothal?” she asked.

“I have made two proposals to your Lord Father, and both were rejected, my darling.”

“But you brought Brightroar home,” Cersei argued. “He’ll marry you now if you ask him! He owes you a debt, and Lannisters—“

“—always pay their debts, I know, Cersei,” you sigh tiredly. “I do not want any man to marry me because he feels indebted to me.”

“But you’ve been dedicated to father forever!”

None of you noticed another visitor silently enter, too closely embraced and focussed on each other to pay attention.

“I will find another man to dedicate myself to, and I will bear him sons as is my duty. I could no sooner force your father’s hand than I could bring harm to either of you. That is what love makes of us at times…” you trailed off.

“What’s that, my Lady?” Jaime asked.

“Fools, darling. And I have been a fool twice already for him. I will not disgrace myself or my family by asking a third time.”

“No,” the Old Lion said from behind you all, causing the three of you to turn and face him. “You will not. Children, leave us.”

Cersei’s grip around your waist tightened in impertinence. “Are you going to upset her? She was upset when we got here,” she says boldly to her father. He glared at his daughter, and a battle of wills that had no clear winner began and ended in a few seconds.

“Off you go, little lions. I will be fine,” you said, shooing them gently, even if Cersei looked unconvinced. With a final glare to her father and a tug from her twin, the young lions were gone, the door closed, you and Lord Lannister alone once again.

“What did they speak of,” he asked bluntly.

“Which part, my Lord,” you ask as you gathered a ring from your bedside that you’d taken off that morning and forgotten to put back on. An emerald ring, once belonging to your mother, that rarely left your hand.

“You are not scheduled to depart for another three days hence.”

“A change in circumstances, I’m afraid,” you answer.

“And what changes are those,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

“It is past time I marry, my Lord. My Lord Father has allowed me my adventures, but I grow wearier every day of the spinster I am sure people think me to become.”

“The opinions of sheep matter not to lions,” he said, as though that explained everything.

“I am not a lion, my Lord.”

“Not yet,” he agreed.

You turned then, and looked at him. He had Brightroar fastened to his hip, and in the finery he wore for the celebrations, he made a striking image. Shoulders broad and chest puffed with the confidence of a Lord reunited with his family’s blade, you’d thought he never looked more handsome, though you knew better than to let the opinion show.

“I won’t marry one of your brothers, or a son of a vassal house. I am a lady of highest birth, and will find myself a husband fitting my status, my Lord,” you explained evenly, looking away to gather your shawl, the last of your personal effects in the room. You made to the door at that, and once again, Lord Lannister prevented you from leaving.

“That is twice you have walked away from me. The debt is repaid,” he purred beside your left ear. Goosebumps raised at his vicinity, and many questions at his comment. “Twice I have rejected you, and twice you have walked away from me. I have killed men for less. That debt is repaid.”

Thinking the interaction some sort of taunt, which he was not above in the slightest, you disregarded him and attempted to open the door with force. This time, however, he did lot let you walk out. He simply slammed the door again.

“Thrice, my Lady,” he said lowly. “And now you owe me a debt.”

A warrior’s daughter you may be, but even your heart could not protect itself from the cracks beginning to show. How foolish could you have been? It was a fool’s errand to love a man like Tywin Lannister, and gods, had you been a fool. You should never have followed the Lady Joanna around her own home. You’d known better even then, and you should not have sat with her, or listened to her, or decided to be a great lady like her. Why couldn’t you have just sat quietly at that tourney with your septa as you’d been told to? And you had risked your life and the lives of men you’d known all your life to give this man the only treasure he could not buy. All you’ve done, and only to owe him, as he said.

“Remove your hand, my Lord. I am leaving.”

“No. You owe me a debt and I intend to collect.”

“Then I suggest, my Lord,” you said cuttingly, “you allow me to return to my father so he can settle this perceived debt. Send him a raven with the sum of gold you don’t truly need, and let us be done here.”

He did not budge, and you felt the horrifying sting of frustrated tears burn your eyes.

“I’m afraid there is only one thing that could settle this debt. Your hand.”

Rage filled you.

“Then have the left,” you muttered angrily, turning and holding out your wrist. “Give your blade the blood of the hand that brought it back to you. That’s poetic, even for you.”

You expected to see that dark resolve you saw in your father’s eyes when he would sentence a man to death. That grim satisfaction and humanitarian dread combined. But his eyes were not angry, no wildfire spitting and flaring in his gaze. In fact, they rather resembled the rolling hills of lush green pastures and forests that surround the Rock. And for once, you noticed, his mouth was not held in a grim line, nor was his face set in stony dissatisfaction as it so often was. He looked softer, face relaxed and… almost open.

“I do not mean it quite so literally,” he said, bringing the hand by his side to gently hold the wrist you’d bared to him. It was the first time he had touched you, you realised.

And then his words untangled in your head and made a little more sense. Only, he could not mean to ask for your hand after rejecting it twice, could he?

“My late wife,” he began solemnly, “would say that a woman’s dedication is rarer than dragon eggs and infinitely more precious as well. She rejected my proposal to her twice, and on the third she agreed, because, she said, any man willing to make a fool of himself for her hand was a man she could be dedicated to.”

“I… I do not understand, my Lord,” you uttered quietly.

“I expected you to ask a third time, my lady. Expected you would return in a matter of weeks and insist on a betrothal. And I would have accepted then. But you did not,” he explained, voice low, meant to soothe rather than intimidate. “I was furious when I heard you’d left Westeros. I thought it was to sail east to find a husband, and had a mind to send a fleet after you. My brother insisted you’d return, and I trusted him. He was right.”

Mind working, you could only dumbly stare at him as he told a tale of how his twins had begged him to propose a betrothal to you when you’d been eight and ten, and how he knew you were not ready to be a wife, the call for adventure itching under your skin needed to be sated first. How he had rejected the first proposal easily, but the second one was much more difficult.

“I expected you to doggedly pursue your goals to be wedded to me as your father might’ve pursued his in battle, but for as similar as you are to him, you are not the same at all. And then I thought you would surely perish on your expedition, especially as the moons passed without word of your return. And now, here you are at my children’s nameday celebrations, the finest mount in the realm for my son, the finest jewels in the realm for my daughter, and my own greatest desire, second to one.”

You blinked, looking at him suspiciously, as though his brothers and guests might pour out of some alcove and laugh at your folly to half believe him.

“And the debt I owe you, my Lord? How is that to be paid.”

“I answered this already, my Lady. Your hand.”

“My hand.” You repeated.

“Since it is unlikely you will propose a betrothal with me a third time, I must insist upon it myself. It is the only way I shall consider the slight of walking away from the Lion of Casterly Rock repaid.”

He looked down at you, watching quietly for a turn in your expression, anything really. You were still as marble, and your hand felt as cold as it too. Then he saw it, that faint glimmer of hope that he’d seen in your gaze on at least two occasions prior. It was there again, barely, and tentatively. But it was there, and it was all he needed.

He swooped down to press a gentle kiss upon your soft mouth, holding himself back from kissing you as he wanted to. It took a short second for your brain to shut off and for your body to move as it wanted. You leaned forward into the kiss, bring your hand to his chest, the other still held in his large hand, thumb gently stroking over the pulse that sped up under the delicate skin.

“You have not answered me, my Lady,” Lord Lannister said, pulling his mouth from yours to trail kisses across your cheek to your ear, nibbling gently on your lobe and halting any clever answer you might’ve been able to give.

“What?” you asked dazedly. Lord Lannister’s lips quirked at your ineloquent reply.

“Will you give me your hand?”

He pulled back to look you in the eyes, and now his lips were not touching you, you could think a little clearer.

“Only if you will give me yours.”

Predatory though it was, the Old Lion grinned at his victory.

#tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #tywin x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #kevan lannister #brightroar #reader insert #not a request #let me know if you want a sequel #i can make it spicy

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ladywinterwitch · 2 years

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Game Of Thrones (headcanon) - How you met

Game of thrones male characters x female reader

INCLUDES: Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jon Snow, Robb Stark, Oberyn Martell.

Okay, my first GOT work! Yay! This is mainly a headcanon post about how you met these specific men of Westeros that kinda turned into very small one shots (maybe prompts for more idk?). Anyways, enjoy and let me know your thoughts if you feel like it, I'd very much appreciate it!

*PS: All of the prospectives will be from women as it's what I'm comfortable writing, as well as the men chosen, which are just the ones that I feel comfortable writing for. For example, you'll NEVER see me writing for characters like Joffrey or Ramsay. Might add Gendry Waters and Theon Grayjoy in the future but I don't promise anything.

Warnings: Language, use of the word whore, mentions and implications of sex, probably mentions of violence, nothing explicit though.

*y/h stands for your house.

Link to my main masterlist

ROBB STARK

You are the middle daughter of a small lord from the very south of the Riverlands, almost across the Westerlands 'territory, Lannister territory. His mother knew your family well, since they were sworn to his father lord Hoster Tully. The first time you saw each other, you couldn't have possibly remembered it, since you both were just newborns. It was just after the end of Robert's rebellion, when Robb's grandfather organized a feast to bid farewell to his daughter who would've left Riverrun for the North to join her new husband, lord Eddard. Your lady mother had given birth just a couple of weeks after lady Catelyn did, and when they met that day, blessings were exchanged but no one would've thought that you'd ever meet again. The reason that brought you to Winterfell was as simple as the lady of Winterfell needing new handmaids. Catelyn had specifically requested for her maids to come from the Riverlands, both as a sign of appreciation towards her native land, as well as possibilities for the young ladies to make connections with some of the great houses of the North.

So that's how it happened, on one of the coldest days you could have there up in Winterfell, snow falling delicately on the grounds and walls of the great castle. You being accostumed to a not extremely hot, but warm enough and quite humid weather, were definetly suffering from the freezing air of the North, so needless to say that the sight of the castle gates were an enormous relief. You and another four girls, all older than you of more or less years, dismounted from your horses with the help of the soldiers from the Riverlands that accompanied you on your jurney. Lord Blackwood, head of house Blackwood, was chosen by lord Hoster Tully as your official chaperon, therefore that's he who made the introductions to the Stark family.

"My lord, my lady." he nodded his head respectfully with a pleasing smile, face and nose bright pink for the cold, "It is a joy to bring you regards from your father, my lady."

The lady smiled politely and glanced quickly at her husband, the slightest humor in her words. "My lord, I am also very pleased to see you after all these years, and I'm sure you'll have much to recount me," she looked over at the shivering girls just a few steps behind him. "But perhaps you'll like to warm up first."

That being said, the four of you, lord Blackwood and the other ten soldiers who came with you were escorted in the great hall, finally away from the snow and instantly welcomed by a nice warmth. You sighed of relief lightly, still keeping your composure. Especially since as soon as you stepped into the room you were met with multiple pairs of eyes scrutinizing you. These eyes belonged to some people of the castle, as well as minor lords and ladies, and finally, to the Stark heirs themselves. From the oldest to the youngest they were lined up at the very top of the great hall, soon joined by their parents who stood next to them as they carefully observed how they behaved with the new guests.

"Lord Blackwood,my ladies, I introduce to you my sons and daughters. But I'll leave the pleasure to welcome you officially to Winterfell to my eldest son and heir. C'mon son." Lord Eddard spoke with warmth as he hinted at his son to step on with his arm. The tallest of the kids, as well as the oldest, walked in front of them, and nodded in acknowledgment to each, asking for their names. Except lord Tytos Blackwood, of course. Each of the girls curstied, introducing themselves. Then came you.

"Lady y/n of house y/h, my lord." you looked up as you stood straight and immediately met the young man's blue eyes. He looked back at you with a polite smile, and nodded sligthtly.

"Welcome to Winterfell lady y/n." he said, and just before walking back next to his parents, his lopsided smile turned into a very small smirk, and as he leaned his head just barely towards you, he goes "Don't worry, you'll get warmed up fast in here." Your mouth gaped imperceptibly as you blushed. He shut his own mouth to hide the smile and moved his gaze to his parents. You missed the curious look his mother gave him.

JON SNOW

The first time you met Jon Snow was in a small tavern, just a few hours of ride away south of the Wall. Benjen Stark, Tyrion Lannister as well as a few other men that were headed to the Wall, had encountered such bad and freezing weather that they had to take shelter, at least for that night. Let alone the wild animals wandering in the night. The Wall is actually in need of these men, Benjen thought. Also, for how much he did dislike the Lannister lord that had joined them from the King's visit in Winterfell, he still had to remember that he was a nobleman. If he had to be honest, he had endured the trip way better than he expected him to. Deep down he also wanted to give a little of a break to his bastard nephew, Jon Snow. He might not be a legitimate son of his brtother's, but at the end of the day he still lived more like a noble than a commoner. Jon was secretly glad of it, too.

A couple of men from the tavern came out to help them to secure the horses into the stable, and then lead them inside the tavern, which was definetly...warm. If it was because of the fireplace, or the drunk men making noise, Jon wasn't sure. Either way he didn't care, he just looked forward to sleeping on a bed for a night. His uncle already arranged the payment for four rooms; one for the criminal scum which were four men, one for the Lannister and his two guards, another one for two brothers of the night's watch, and the last one for himself and Jon. He reckoned that half of them would just spend the night drinking anyways.

Jon huffed and stroked his hands together in the attempt to warm up faster while he eyed an empty table at the end of the tavern. He walked there, in between drunk men and just enough women on their laps that didn't try to hide what their purpose was, and sat down on the wooden chair. He rested his eyes for a few minutes, just trying to cancel out the noise and enjoy the close by fireplace.

"My lord, can I bring you some ale?" a female voice, which in comparison to the rough and vulgar men that he traveled with for the past weeks sounded like a miracle, interrupted his alone moment, forcing him to open his eyes suddenly. And that's when he saw you. He was speechlees for a moment, taken aback by how pretty you were: your modest and not cleanest clothes surprisingly complimented your figure, your cheeks flushed with the heath of the ambient, hair messily wrapped at the back of your head to allow you to work better. He wasn't used to new faces in Winterfell, and especially not female ones.

Many soldiers, farmers, commoners and lords showed up just enough to do their business with the castle lord and lady and just left. And well, after that rough trip with criminals and ugly men, just seeing a woman, and such a pretty one at that, was just a sight to behold.

You raised an eyebrow, tightening slightly the grip on your wooden tray, suddenly nervous. Being the daughter of the tavern's owner and a commoner, you had to learn the hard way to not trust men sometimes. Therefore his silence made you nervous, even though you wouldn't have missed the chance to smack him with your tray if he became inappropriate. Most of the men in there were regulars, and learned to just enjoy their whores without bothering you, which ironically made them sort of your personal bodyguards.

"My lord..?" you tried again, and this time he cleared his throat and nodded, not saying anything. You narrowed your eyes slightly, understanding that this was just a young awkward man and not a creepy one, hopefully. Before you turned to go fetch the ale, he said something, almost too softly to be heard amid the noise.

"I'm not a lord." you stopped in your tracks, turned you head to him and smirked in amusement, "You still want that ale though don't you?" he raised both his eyebrows in surprise at your attitude and smiled.

"I- I, uh, yes. Thank you my lady." he stuttered. This time you chuckled, "I'm no lady either." he smiled in embarassment and just responded "Right." You walked away and he would've beat himself up for being such a boy if he wasn't too distracted to watch you walk away from him.

"Oof, you sure you want to miss out on that for the rest of your life, bastard?" he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speaking to him. Or better, that he was caught. He looked to the side and saw Tyrion Lannister with a smug face, struggling just a bit to sit in the chair next to him.

OBERYN MARTELL

Yours and Oberyn's first meeting was everything except special. You were just another lady of a minor house from the Reach, following your higher born lady as she and her lord husband came to Dorne for affairs. What was different though, is that you weren't as young as the usual and definetly not as innocent or modest. He obviously wasn't there when the official welcome to Dorne was made, his brother lord Doran was. He was too busy sleeping late after yet another wild night with whores and exceptional wine. You did catch his eyes on the same evening dinner though. Your dornish dress just a bit too low on your chest, and your attitude just a bit too charming in comparison to other ladies. You weren't seated at the main table like he was, but you were close enough for him to know that you must've had some sort of importance.

Your table was actually the same one as his well known mistress, Ellaria Sand. A real scandal for a prince of Dorne to be associated so bluntly with a bastard mistress, let alone having bastard daughters together. But he just didn't care. And certainly he wasn't gonna start caring about other people's opinions that same night. His gaze wasn't supposed to be on you, but on Ellaria. And yet he got distracted, and quite taken by you. Everything about the way you carried yourself intrigued him, mostly because he wasn't used to seeing that kind of behaviour from someone who wasn't dornish. It's like you fit right in. Maybe you were from the south, he thought.

While lost in thought, he didn't move his eyes from you, and after a while, you did notice. Without a trace of nervousness or embarassment, you looked back at him. A small lopsided smile playing on your lips, head just slightly tilted to the side. Oberyn, pleasently surprised, mirrored your smirk and raised his cup just enough for you to notice. You nodded back in acknowledgement and then moved your attention. The prince did the same after a few seconds, not noticing the unhappy glance that his mistress gave him, clearly seeing that his attention got caught somewhere else. She wasn't usually jealous. She didn't have reason to be. Oberyn might've well fucked half of the men and women of Dorne, but they were all mostly one time things, or whores. Never another lord or lady. She trusted the affection that he had for her, but she didn't trust his cock driven mind as much unfortunately.

After the first courses were served, people started to dance and get out of their seats to converse. Oberyn decided that he needed to know more about this lady, so he stood up, but was soon stopped by his brother gripping his sleeve.

"Where are you going?" he murmured, looking up from his wheelchair. The dornish prince scoffed, freeing himself. "Where I usually go. To have fun." with that he walked away from the table, and nonchalantly joined the dance with a random lady, giving her a quick charming smile. He was focused on scanning the room to find another lady, though. He danced for a few minutes, and finally he saw you. You were standing near an older man who was speaking to you, clearly looking at your bosom and not your face. But you didn't seem to care, nor listen. Oberyn smiled to himself and swiftly exited the dances, confidently making his way to you. Posture straight, arms behind his back, relaxed.

"My prince." the old man interrupted himself to awkwardly bow to him. Oberyn raised a hand, dismissing him. "No need. I'd like to have a word with this lady." he said calmly, not taking his eyes away from yours. The man nodded silently, annoyed at the interruption and walked away.

"Prince Oberyn." you finally spoke. As he imagined, your voice dripped with confidence and femininity. He took your hand to his lips, not actually touching them.

"Enchanted. Lady..?" you smiled politely, answering with your name. "Which house are you from, lady y/n?" you shook your head.

"A small house from the Reach who isn't worth mentioning, trust me. I have more value as my lady's handmaid and friend than anything." you responded, without actually any sentiment except maybe some irony. The man nodded, looking you up and down.

"So you're not married I assume." and it was in fact a statement more than a question, but you decided to answer regardless. "You would be correct my lord. And to be honest I do not have any wish to take husband. Unless forced to, of course." your glimpse of a smirk was just pure irony.

"Why would a minor house lady not want a husband to secure her a good life?" he retorted, genuinely intrigued.

"My lord, life is so short. And I am a third daughter of five, of which the first is a man. I do not have notable connections, dowery, nor the wish to have a wealthier life than I already have. I'd rather enjoy the freedom that my position allowes me." the prince was satisfied with her words and definetly shared her mindset, even though he was actually a far more important person than she was socially speaking. But that's what you said right? You wanted to have fun. So he decided to offer you just that.

JAIME LANNISTER

Meeting you actually changed Jaime's life, for the better. You didn't meet on any event, or special occasion, it just happened. He was bored, hot and would've rathered to do anything at all except what he was supposed to do. Which was his round of guarding in the garden of the Red Keep on a boring humid and terribly hot day. His heavy armour was not helping, nor his long hair for that matter. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Same lords meeting in the same corners to either conspire or make deals, usually to pay some debts. Same noble women sitting on the patio, drinking fresh lemonade and gossipping. Same servants walking around, and so on. Everything terribly dull and ordinary.

At that specific point in his life, Jaime Lannister didn't think he could get more bored. Even fucking Cersei was becoming a little old at that point. Not to mention, her being always so bitter and complaining about her husband didn't please the kingslayer either.

At one point, as he turned a corner of the garden, he saw a lonely young woman, definetly highborn, he could tell by her fine dress. You were looking around, holding the back of your hand to your forehead in an attempt to soothe yourself from the heath, it seemed. You actually looked quite lost, out of place. Jaime, not having anything better to do, approached you.

"My lady, are you feeling alright?" you turned quickly, a bit startled, but tried to play it off.

"Yes, quite, ser. I am not used to this type of heat I'm afraid." you smiled sweetly, squinting your eyes slightly, bothered by the strong light. Jaime smiled softly, feeling a bit sorry. You seemed way too sweet, he felt bad being his rude self for once. So he decided to make conversation, who knows, maybe he could have a little fun.

"I can see that. Are you not from here, lady..?"

"Y/n. Of house Y/h. I am from the Vale, ser." he shook his head slightly. He offered his arm to her. You looked at him uncertainly.

"Please, my lady. I would hate to see you melt in this horrible sun." you chuckled, a little embarssed but amused, and placed your arm under his bulky one. You started to walk back towards the Red Keep.

"I am afraid that I do not know your house, my lady. Is your family connected to court?" he asked politely. Your faced darkened, just slightly, but Jaime noticed. He didn't speak.

"No, ser. Not exactly. You see, mine is a small house. I am here as...a guest. Of lord Belmore." you didn't look at him as you spoke. He did know house Belmore, but he couldn't imagine of why they would have business in King's Landing, and honestly he didn't care. He was more curious as to why you seemed to speak of it like it brought you grief. He didn't think before speaking and blurted out a "Guest?"

You shifted uncomfortably next to him, licking your lips nervously. "Yes." At that point Jaime put two and two together and wanted to slap himself for being so unlikely naive for his standards. If she wasn't a highborn of a major house, nor she was lord Belmore's wife, but just a guest, what she truly meant was mistress. Whether she was happy about it, he wasn't that sure. Silence fell between them for a while.

"Thank you, for helping me. I was in fact lost, but didn't bother to admit it." she smiled timidly for a moment. Jaime smiled also, looking down, trying to stop himself from teasing her by saying 'You didn't have to admit anything' because she was just so transparent, and just settled with "Anytime, my lady."

After that, the silence fell again but this time it was actually peaceful. The kingslayer furtively glanced at the woman next to him, taking in her details. The blush on her cheeks, the slightly curled baby hair at the sides of her face from the humidity, the delicate layer of sweat on her neck, the way the corset underneath her dress pushed up her bosom, her relaxed lips. She's actually beautiful, he thought, and undestood why a man would choose someone like her to bring to the royal court.

When they reached the entrance of the castle, he delicately separated from her, and bowed his head in curtesy. "Do you need further help, my lady?" you shook your head with a sweet smile.

"No, you're too kind. You've been of great help. Thank you, ser?" his face fell for a split second, almost as if he'd forgot who he was for a second, and didn't really mind it.

"Jaime Lannister, at your service." your eyes widened but you quickly got a hold on yourself, bowing slightly to him. "Ser Jaime, I'm mortified." he frowned.

"Why would you be mortified my lady?" you stuttered a bit, "W-well, you're the brother of the queen, and I wasted your time with mere stupidity on my part. I apologize." he was so confused as to why you seemed so nervous and genuinely sorry. He took your hand and brought it to his lips for a second, making you look up.

"I am a King's guard. My job is to help. Whatever the problem is, my lady. You actually gave me a bit of distraction in this boring day, truly, do not apologize to me." he reassured you, his eyebrows in a comforting frown. That made you feel better, and decided that it was enough embarassment for one day, so you curtsied again and started to walk away.

"I hope to see you soon, lady y/n." you froze for a second at his words, and then kept on walking away.

TYRION LANNISTER

Tyrion managed to sneak out from some highborn lord's wedding in King's Landing to treat himself to a good lay. He actually got Bronn to go with him, since you could never be safe enough around his sister. Not even in brothels an hour away from the Keep. It was a recent one he found, not too busy, quite hidden. He could tell he wasn't the only lord to go there, as well as not the only one who wanted some privacy. And best thing, the owner was a woman. Sure, he was smart enough to see behind her facade of fake politeness, but he knew that with his money she would've kept her mouth shut if asked.

That night Tyrion was just exhausted. His hundredth argument with his father put him in a bad mood, and all he wanted was to get drunk and maybe some attention. He gave Bronn some money, enough for both of them, because there was no way that that man would've just sat as a guard dog in a brothel. "One at a time, you bastard." he remarked, making the mercenary snort a laugh.

He got into one of the nice rooms, and took off his cape, boots, and vest, leaving him in just his shirt and breeches. He poured himself some wine as he watched outside the small window. The air in King's Landing was often suffocating by day, but the warm breeze of the night was rather enjoyable. He turned his head slightly, but not all the way, at the sound of the door closing in the room. "Good evening dear, how are you-" he turned and trailed off as he noticed that the girl standing near the door wasn't the usual one that was sent to him.

"My lord." she said, not moving an inch. Tyrion looked at her: she was beautiful. Young, but not too young. But something about her exuded sadness. She looked tired. Tyrion got instantly turned off, more in a 'It's one of those miserable nights for everyone' type of thing than a 'Shit, I don't wan't to fuck a sad girl' one. He sighed to himself and walked to sit on the bed, comfortable with his cup of wine. He waved his hand as to invite her next to him. You reluctantly walked towards the bed like an execution, and started to undo your corset's laces.

Tyrion rolled his eyes and stopped you "I meant sit, not undress. You clearly aren't in the mood anyway, so might as well have a chat." you frowned, dropping your arms to your sides.

"You won't pay me to talk." Tyrion shrugged, pursing his lips, just a little tipsy. "I mean, I already paid, so there's that. Now, sit."

You slipped back on your robe, wrapping it tightly around your bust, covering the half exposed breasts, and sat on the opposite side of the bed, still not comfortable. The Lannister narrowed his gaze, observing you.

"You're not a whore." it was more of a statement than a question. "Not by choice." you murmured, correcting him. He chewed the inside of his cheek, in silence. Then he moved, planning on getting his refill of wine, but his sudden movement made you flinch. He stopped for a second, "I am just getting up to get some more wine." he explained. You side glanced him but didn't respond, just slightly relaxed, and he took that as a sign to resume his actions. This time, when he was standing, he didn't go back to the bed, instead leaning against the wall, just next to the window.

"Whatever happened, I'm sorry." his tone was genuine. He just left it at that, he didn't imply nor necessarily asked for more information. Your lips quivered for a split second, then taking a deep breath.

"My lord what can I do for you?" you said, sadness and tiredness in your voice. Tyrion decided to dodge the question by simply doing what he does best, which is talking.

"You know, I've got a pretty shitty day too. If that makes you feel better." he smirked, taking a sip of his wine. You didn't respond, but neither told him to shut up so he took it as a good sign.

"I mean, look at me. I'm a dwarf. A a noble one at that. Pretty sure that if I wasn't I wouldn't be alive right now, which is definetly something that my father would love. Probably gets off it, that sick bastard." your mouth was agape, shocked both by his own self deprecating demeanor as well as the harsh words towards the man that's supposed to be his father. Tyrion looked at you and laughed.

"Oh c'mon, don't look at me like that. With that sad face that you have and the job that you do, I'm sure that you've had your fair share of men to call bastard too, am I wrong?" your face softened and the smallest smirk lingered on your lips.

"Ah, see? I'm right. I'm often right, actually." he glanced at the door and then back at you. "My personal guard, another cunt by the way, should be done in about an hour, I reckon. He's working with some of your..colleagues." he raised his eyebrows ironically.

"I'm sorry." you said, surprisingly with some sincerity. Tyrion shook his head, sighed, and clicked his tongue. "Nah. It's not like I don't come to brothels multiple times a week. My cock probably needed a break anyway. I can't fuck my way out of everything, unfortunately." his bluntness made you burst out laughing. You recomposed yourself pretty quickly, still being weary of getting too comfortable. You thought for a minute, and then just got up, slipping right out of your robe.

"You know what, funny lord? Fuck it. We both need it anyway." Tyrion huffed out a faint laugh and started to take off his shirt.

This is is for this post!

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

Text

The Doe That Chases the Hound

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 5123

Summary: Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

Consider this a continuation of A Good, Mean, Dog

Tommen rushed behind you, clinging to your back shaking like a leaf. It was no wonder he was hiding behind you, he was terrified of the Hound. Smiling gently at the sight of the enormous man your hand goes behind you to smooth Tommen’s golden hair soothingly. The Hound was completely unfazed by the youngest Baratheon’s cowering form and continues on his way only to stop and give you a nod.

“My lady.” His gruff voice rumbles as he addresses you. After the day he had saved you, the two of you shared simple words between one another but nothing more. It was like Sandor was somewhat afraid of getting close to you. It was like Sandor was somewhat afraid of getting close to you. You didn’t force any interactions knowing a man like Sandor needed to be eased in. From the way he always acted around you you guessed he wasn’t much used to a young maid like yourself willingly spending time with him.

Either way you always had a smile for him. He had yet to use the offer you had proposed and you found yourself actually longing for his kiss, even his touch. “Sandor. Where is that darling brother of mine? Surely you wouldn’t leave his side.” Tommen fidgets behind you wanting to leave. You continue to pet his hair lovingly with hopes pacify him.

“Lessons with the maester.” Sandor grunts, his eyes casually noticing Tommen behind you. He sees the fear in his green eyes. Bowing shortly he promptly leaves. You hear Tommen release a shuddering breath.

“Sweet lion.” you murmur and brush your fingers against his cheek. “The Hound isn’t as scary as he seems. Just be lucky that he’s on our side.”

“H-He never smiles though. . . . A-A-And his face. . .”

As elegantly as you could you kneel in front of him. “Ssh my sweet lion. No more of that. Does a lion fear a hound?” Even though he was Baratheon, him and your other siblings looked more so Lannister unlike you. You may have had Lannister eyes and your mother’s beauty, but you had your father’s dark mane of hair. The lion of Lannister better suited your younger siblings. They were golden all the way just like the Lannister sigil amongst red.

He shakes his head, mop of golden hair bouncing as he did so. You kiss the corner of his mouth and stand up, going back to holding his hand. “Let’s go. You have your lessons to attend to.”

“You speak out of line.”

You and Tommen pause outside of your father’s room. The both of you had been looking for your mother and was informed she had been heading toward the king’s chambers. His doors were closed with your Uncle Jaime standing guard. Normally when Jaime was outside you would hear moans and other obscene noises from the other side. Instead you heard your parents arguing yet again. You’re about to steer Tommen away until your mother speaks up.

“I will not have my eldest daughter going to the north. Period. Whether it be Starks or Boltons, I will not have it. Nor will she be marrying that dirty old man from the Twins.”

“Seven hells woman! Then who is she to marry?!” Robert Baratheon exclaims. It was clear that they had been talking about it for quite a while from the frustration biting in his voice.

“You can do better.” Cersei hisses. “She deserves better. She’s your first born.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you stare at the massive doors that blocked you from seeing the interaction. You catch your Uncle Jaime looking at you before he puts a finger to his lips; the same gesture he always did when you passed by your father’s room and heard something you weren’t supposed to. All you can manage to do is gawk and continue to not breathe.

“The Tyrells of High Garden have two unmarried sons. Their wealth would be beneficial to us. There are also some Lannister cousins of Casterly Rock and Lannisport that would also prove a good fit for (y/n). Any good house in the west.”

Huffing you hear a loud clinking noise, possibly caused by a flagon of wine bumping into the rim of your father’s goblet. “The Tyrells have one cripple son and the other is to be a knight. She will marry whoever I say. Maybe giving her to Oberyn Martell will get him off my ass about his sister.”

Your father really didn’t care what became of you. Jaw ticking you walk away hurriedly with Tommen in front of you. You didn’t want to hear anymore. There was only one man you dared to fantasize about being with. The only other male besides your Uncle Tyrion and your sweet Tommen who even showed you the slightest bit of warmth. A man everyone feared, a man who could protect you from any harm. Yet he was sworn to protect your rotten brother. You would only ever be a silly little princess to him. You had come to terms with your infatuation with the Hound after you offered him a kiss. It grew worse every day when you saw his towering frame following close behind the smaller one of your bratty brother. Something about the hardness of his face made you shiver in a good way. You remember how close you were to him when he saved you from your rampaging horse. How he picked you up so easily. You wanted his arms around you again. You wanted him to claim you as his and demand your father to allow a marriage. But those were just dreams. Silly, childish, dreams. You knew how this world worked. There was no way you could fool yourself. Sandor Clegane was a rough man and wouldn’t be into such romantic notions nor would he ever ask your king father for your hand in marriage. Robert would marry you off to the highest bidder. He required money to squander on whores and alcohol. Your happiness meant nothing to him, you had always known that. At least your mother cared about you. She would fight for your happiness. Cersei was still a woman though. In the end your father had the final say on all matters.

“(y/n), what were they talking about?” your brother asks innocently. You held onto his tiny hand, it was all you could do to prevent yourself from crying.

Forcing a smile you explain to him that they were choosing your future husband.

At that Tommen beams up at you. “You’re getting married?!”

You laugh at his excitement. “Some day.”

“You’ll be the most prettiest bride!”

Utterly endearing you bend over slightly and kiss his golden crown. “Will you be the one to give me away, sweet lion?”

Lush green eyes sparkle like the jewels your mother loved to wear. You wished a man could look at you with such adoration the same way your baby brother did. Instead you were met with lust filled gazes rather than adoration. Many wanted to fuck you but not love you. Men just wanted you for your body and title.

“Hopefully my husband will be as sweet as you.” You sadly muse knowing that it was very unlikely.

“And I want my wife to be just like you!”

You prayed that at least Tommen and Myrcella were set up with people who would treat them right. They were pure and good hearted, they deserved to be happy.

You saw him off to his lessons with his maester and planned to go see if your Uncle Tyrion was available. Just as you turn around though you come face to face with Ser Jaime Lannister. Apparent that he had followed you and Tommen you couldn’t think of why. He had always shown disdain for you despite you having done nothing to receive his irk.

You chew on your bottom lip before taking another step closer. “Ser Jaime, what can I do for you?”

Heavy gaze narrows toward you that has you clamming up under his scrutiny. Then he smiles. “I remember when Cersei was told she was to marry Robert Baratheon. The same age as you too. She had wanted to marry the Targaryen prince when she was younger but. . . well, we all know how that story ended.”

He had never spoken this much to you, not in all the years you had been alive. It made you nervous. “And? What did my mother do?”

“Not much she could do consider that Robert had just won the Iron Throne and declared king of all of Westeros. She would be his queen. Not really something to protest against.”

“I don’t have any hope of my father finding me a match like that.” Mumbling you knew hesitantly dart your eyes over to your uncle. What was that expression on his face? Remorse? Pity? You couldn’t tell.

Jaime shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe so.”

Sighing you nod. “That’s the way things are I suppose. . .”

“You’re a lot like your mother.” He suddenly says. “Both of you are stubborn, but strong as hell. Whatever happens, I believe you’ll get through it just as she has. You are her daughter.”

His words make you smile. “Thank you. I believe this is the first time we’ve had a heart to heart.”

The man known as the Kingslayer chuckled and playfully shook his head. “This is the first time we’ve really spoken.” Slowly he reaches out toward your dark hair and gingerly pats your head. “You’ll be fine. You’re every bit of your mother. Strong, stubborn, even scary as hell. But you’re also sweet with a kind heart. Any man would be lucky to have you as their wife. They’ll fall in love with you, I’m sure.”

Your chest clenched. “What if they don’t? What if it’s like my mother and father?”

Eyes hardening he holds onto your shoulders. “Then give him hell or your mother most likely will. You know how much she loves her children. And I’d be willing to break a few limbs if he proves to be ungallant.”

Grinning you actually feel a little better. “Thanks Uncle Jaime. Or. . . Ser Jaime I suppose.”

Gently smiling he chucks you underneath your chin and continues on his way, his cloak trailing behind him as he walks down the hall and out of view. Despite his kind and even comforting words though you couldn’t let go of the image of the man you really wanted. Jaime had claimed that any man would fall in love with you, could that possibly imply Sandor as well? Not that it mattered. It would just complicate things more if Sandor did happen to reciprocate your feelings. Which he most likely didn’t.

Chewing on your bottom lip you curl your fingers into your gown. You were your mother’s daughter. You were strong and clever just like Cersei Lannister. You would do what needed to be done despite your feelings. You were a Baratheon, princess of Westeros.

It wasn’t exactly what he had thought of doing when he was younger, but Sandor Clegane hadn’t been given many opportunities to do anything else with his life except serve the Lannister family. It was what the Cleganes had always done ever since his grandfather’s hounds saved Lord Tywin’s own father from a lion. Following around Joffrey Baratheon had it’s perks though; one being the pay was exceptional and he had a roof over his head. He did his job well too, everyone was terrified of him because of his face and his skill with a sword. He supposed he should thank Gregor for that at least if nothing else. He’d thank him someday by plunging his sword into Gregor’s throat.

Trailing behind the young prince like a looming shadow something caught his attention; or rather someone. Sandor peers over the stone balustrade into the courtyard that was lush with shrubbery and trees. It was a laugh that had drawn his attention. A musical laugh he had heard plenty times before, one that he held onto so that he could remember it before he slept.

The eldest Baratheon twirled around with her younger, blonde haired sister. Many times (y/n) Baratheon was all smiles, full of politeness that was taught to her at a very young age. There was a maturity in her emerald eyes though that was beyond her years. She genuinely smiled at Sandor which would always catch the large man off guard. He remembered how she looked at him when she offered him a kiss. She had suggested it so easily. For a minute there he swore that his heart had stopped functioning. She couldn’t have been serious. Someone as beautiful as (y/n) Baratheon wouldn’t want to kiss someone as hideous as Sandor Clegane. (y/n) could have any man she wanted; she was a bloody princess after all! Why would she bother with an old, mean, dog, like Sandor? He had done nothing good in his life to warrant any affection from any woman let alone a princess. Yet there she had stood, bathed in the gentle candle light of the corridor, as she asked him if he would like a kiss as a reward. She had looked almost surreal in that torch glow, a fleeting image with eyes as bright as wildfire. A part of him had urged him forward, to take her face in his large, rough, hands and kiss her like no other man ever has. Kiss her and never let her go. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Couldn’t bring himself to taint her. Hands that were covered in blood did not deserve to touch something as pure as her, no matter how much he wanted to. Much to his shame he had day dreamed about fucking her, as he supposed many men did. Undressing her and letting his hands roam her soft body and try to memorize every detail. Kiss those lips that she had so readily offered up to him. It wouldn’t be all about his pleasure though. He wanted to feel her squeeze around him, whether it be his cock or finger and hear her moan for him and him alone. Sandor wanted to bring her pleasure that she had never known.

That of course would never happen. King Robert would marry her off to some wealthy lord and Sandor would never see her again. So every time he managed to catch himself daydreaming he would stop immediately. Daydreaming would get him nowhere. A man like him didn’t daydream. Perhaps young maidens, but not a big, hard, man like Sandor. Daydreaming had stopped for him when his brother thrusted his head into the fire and permanently scarred him for life.

“Stupid things women are.” Joffrey muses. “Even those you’re related to. My mother and Myrcella, even (y/n). She thinks she has the authority of a man. She’ll see her wrong doings once I claim the throne. But she might not be my problem by that time. She should be married off by now. Don’t know what’s taking father so long to get rid of her.”

Like always he kept his mouth shut when Joffrey spoke about his sister like that despite it grating on his nerves. When he caused (y/n)’s horse to go out of control and nearly throw the young princess off, Sandor had half a mind to strangle him. He had always known that his charge was a cruel boy but to purposefully put one’s own sibling in danger was something else. Cruel and mean, just like Gregor. The king and queen did nothing to try and rid Joffrey of these detestable traits. They always turned a blind eye, the queen spoiling him even more. They would end up ruining him further.

Sandor was just a sworn sword though. There was nothing he could do except follow Joffrey around. He hated that more than anything else.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I convinced father to marry her off to you?” Joffrey chuckled at the thought. “Imagine her face! No prince charming but a dog!”

He stopped paying attention to what was coming out of his wormy mouth and remembered (y/n)’s alluring, striking eyes, that fluttered prettily. The more he recalled her face, the more he was certain that she had been serious about the kiss.

“Not even a kiss from a maiden fair?”

Maybe he had been a fool not to accept it. Who knew if he would ever get the chance again. A moment after that he had thought himself gallant, chivalrous even. He had to remind himself that he was no knight. Just a dog. (y/n) had said a dog was better than a knight though. He couldn’t see how that was possible.

Before continuing on their way Sandor looked over the balustrade one last time and by chance (y/n) had looked up at the same exact moment. Coal black meeting the brilliant flames of wildfire. She smiled up at him and waved. Not for the first time, Sandor felt like she had stolen the breath right out of him. He couldn’t bare to look at her any longer lest he get burned.

Their heads had grown heavy against your shoulders after a while, indicating that they had fallen asleep. Gently you close the book you had been reading and bask in the love you felt for you two younger siblings. Why had Joffrey not turned out like them? Sweet and gentle. Sweet and gentle they may be, yet Myrcella was beginning to show signs of being smart and resilient as well. She would make a man very happy, you were sure.

You sighed and leaned against your bed frame. They didn’t offer you much room to move, keeping you trapped between them. Delicately you brush a stray strand of gold away from Myrcella’s face. What was she dreaming about? Maybe about the dragons you had been ready to them before they fell asleep. Tommen sometimes thought they were scary, but not Myrcella. She was fascinated with them just like you. Maybe you would bring her back a small skull from the cellar room that your uncle had shown you. A bit of Targaryen blood did run in the Baratheons after all.

You hadn’t realized that your mother had been present in your room for a while now. She was smiling at the sight of the three of you. You knew nothing made her happier than seeing her children together.

“Shall I get someone to bring them to their beds?” She whispers.

“No. Let them sleep. They’ll wake soon.”

Cersei quietly makes her way to the edge of your bed and carefully perches herself on the edge. No matter what she did, Cersei was the perfect lady and did everything elegantly. Even sitting seemed like an artform when Cersei did it. “When I look at you with them I start to imagine how wonderful a mother you’ll be.”

Your throat closes and you suddenly find your siblings closeness to be suffocating. “A bit too soon to be thinking about my children.”

“Not at all.” Her voice is sad, her eyes even more so. “(y/n)-”

“I know.” You close your eyes and focus on your breathing. “I know mother. I. . . overheard you and father today. I didn’t mean to, but when I heard that you were talking about my betrothal. . . can you blame me?”

“Of course not.” she sighs and reaches out to hold your hand. “I know this kind of thing isn’t easy. I myself struggled with being married off.”

“You ended up marrying a king though.”

Cersei laughs bitterly. “Yes and you see how our marriage is. You’re smart (y/n), you should know already that things don’t always turn out the way you want them to. No matter who you end up with though I want you to be strong. I know you’ll be strong.”

“Uncle Jaime told me the same thing. And here I thought he never liked me.”

“Why would you think that?”

You shrug. “He’s always been very cold toward me before. I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t look like a Lannister.”

Cersei squeezes your hand in a comforting manner. “My love, your uncle loves you as he does your brothers and sister. You are his blood. Blood means everything to us.”

“Mother. . . did you love anyone before you were to be married to Rob- I mean, father?”

Her eyes try to pry into your true meaning of your question. “Yes.”

You squirm a bit between your siblings. “What did you do when you found out you couldn’t be with them?”

She lets go of your hand and looks away. You had never asked your mother so much about her personal life. By the way she was acting you could only guess it was a sensitive topic. Maybe she still loved that person even now. “I did what I had to do for our family.” That was all she was going to tell you.

You let the subject go.

Something you wished you could do with your affections for the Hound. You tried be logical and list the reasons why you liked him so much. The list went on and on, even beyond the fact that he had saved you. You started thinking back before that had happened. Yes, there was always something there. Perhaps your budding womanhood and hormones played into it. He was the closest man to you that you weren’t related to. There were much younger guards and more attractive as well, but you felt nothing for them. They couldn’t compare to Sandor. Not to you at least. Even the most handsome knight couldn’t get your heart to flutter. They couldn’t arouse you the way Sandor did with just one look at you.

“What are you doing all by yourself?”

You tell your heart to shut up as it pounds frantically in response to Sandor’s voice. Briefly looking over your shoulder you find him standing a few feet away from you in the corridor. Turning your face back to the window you whisper “My father and mother have been discussing who I am to marry.” You don’t know why you’re telling him, he probably didn’t care one lick. “I mean I expected as much, it’s always been my fate, but hearing them barter over me like I’m some animal is a little disheartening.” You shrug. “Oh well.” You don’t know if he’s still there until you hear his feet thump against the ground as he advances. You scold yourself for spewing all that on him. “Sorry. Probably boring, huh?”

“And who would you marry? Some handsome knight or lord. Is that what you’re worried about? Them sending you off to marry someone hideous?”

Shocked to hear the slight annoyance in his voice you clam up slightly. You couldn’t admit to him that that was slightly what you were worried about. He probably already thought you were vain and spoiled like your mother.

“Someone could be beautiful and still be cruel.” You murmur and turn to look up at him. Many thought your brother Joffrey to be handsome but not all handsome men are kind. He had proved to be mean and vicious. “That’s not my main concern. It’s the thought of being sent to a complete stranger. He could be fat for all I care. Just as long as he’s nice. . . I don’t want to be in a marriage like my mother’s. I. . .”

Biting your lip you shake your head and start to walk away.

“You what?”

You turn with sullen eyes and a hint of redness to your cheeks that you didn’t want to admit. “I want love. I want to be loved. It’s ridiculous, I know, but I found myself wanting it. There’s a man here who I have found has total claim to my heart and I’ll never get to tell him nor will I ever get to kiss him despite me having offered my lips to him. I’ve come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t return my affections.” Carefully you steal a look of Sandor, not knowing if he had put two and two together. Your heart raced at the fact you had confessed about your feelings for him.

Wanting to hold your ground as he stared at you you couldn’t help but fidget a bit. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

She couldn’t have meant him. But he couldn’t deny it any longer unless she went around offering kisses to other guards which Sandor didn’t think she did. She wasn’t that kind of lady. (y/n) did have feelings for him. He was reeling at the sudden realization. His brain couldn’t even process it.

Sandor noticed the slight fear that washed over her face as he didn’t say anything. What could he say? He’d never been in such a situation before.

He turned on his heel and walked away.

You didn’t know what you had been expecting. He had probably grown tired of your complaining. No matter what you tried to tell yourself you couldn’t help the devastation that ripped you apart from the inside. It was hard to breathe as you turned away as well and took small steps, your hand clinging to your chest as you bite down on your lip and try not to cry. A foolish little girl you were.

You heard Sandor growl loudly from the other side of the hall “Fuck it.”

A strong hand twirled you around to face him and you could only stare wide eyed at him. Considering you were much smaller than him he had to lean down considerably to kiss you roughly. Exactly as you had imagined a kiss from him would be like you tilt your face ever so slowly to deepen it. Urgent and needing for all of you, something you had never felt from anyone. You had never felt so wanted by anyone. Sure you had seen the glances men gave you, but you never wanted them. You wanted Sandor though. And it so happened he wanted you too. Whether it was purely lust or he truly loved you, you didn’t care at the moment. You wanted more of him. Warmth licked at the walls of your belly as your hands roam up his chest and to his large shoulders. Once the two of you pulled away you were light headed and swimming with desire. Sandor looked at you with half lidded eyes. You had never seen such a gentle look on his face. Even when he had saved you his face had still been stern.

“Why do you want an old dog like me?” He suddenly asks with a rasping voice. “I’m nothing pretty to look at and I’ve killed people.”

Admitting, your hands gingerly move from his shoulders to cup his scruffy, burned, face. You gave him plenty of time to pull your hands away if he didn’t want to be touched. But he let you caress his face. “I’ve asked myself that question for quite a while.” You notice him shudder under your feather light touch. Had he ever experienced a gentle touch before? Surely his mother must’ve held and kissed him when he was younger. You realized you knew so little about him besides the fact that his brother had shoved his face into a fire at such a young age. Sandor’s gaze is unrelenting but you find it so comforting. “Even before you saved me from Blue Moon. I had always assumed it was a stupid little crush because you were the only kind man around me other than my Uncle Tyrion or Tommen.”

That makes him scoff. “Kind?”

You nod. “Yes, kind. All other men feign at being kind in hopes of me letting them under my skirt. My father doesn’t care for me and I know for certain Joffrey would rather have me dead. But you. . . You were different. True, you’re rough and a brute. Terrifying to everyone. That’s what your brother made you though. That’s what you have to do to survive in this world. I found myself admiring you too. Among other things. . .” Blushing you retrieve your hands from his face.

“You’re a weird one.” Sandor grumbles, averting his dark gaze from you. You note the hint of shyness that made his movement more coy.

Everything about him was endearing to you and the more you fell in love with him, the more you discovered about the towering man. He was insecure, self-conscious, and unknowingly craving a gentle human touch. Sandor was completely perplexed by your affections and you realized he might be even more so confused of his own feelings. The fact he had walked away at first revealed to you that he had been trying to restrain himself. Whatever he felt for you though was too much for him to maintain control over. You still feel pressure on your lips and you knew that you wanted more. Ever the greedy princess, you wanted all of Sandor Clegane. You didn’t know how to go about enticing him for more though. Getting him to kiss you had been like pulling teeth. You tried to think what any other woman would do. You tried thinking what your mother would do and the answer was simple: she would demand it. Could you be brazen enough to demand that Sandor join you in your bed? You were still so young and didn’t know much about that area of life. He would possibly think you still a child if you mucked things up.

You didn’t want him to think you loose though. Instead you balanced on your tippy toes to kiss him again. Sandor growled as he wrapped an arm around your waist. The only sound was the echoing of your kisses and the soft gasp that you let out when he pressed you against the wall. His coarse beard was rough against your face, but you took pleasure from it and in all the rough affection he delivered to you. Arousal made your legs weak as his large hands deftly roam over your body and slightly hikes up your leg to wrap around his waist. Sandor was fully supporting your body now as you were completely lifted off of the ground. Nose brushing against your’s, his lips ghost over your swollen ones as you pant slightly.

“You’re a troublesome girl.” He roughly tells you but the look in his eyes tells you something differently.

Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

#sandor clegane fanfiction #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #got fanfiction #got fanfic #got fandom #got reader insert #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #Game of Thrones fandom #asoiaf fandom #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf reader insert #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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atomic--peach · 10 months

Text

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt.15

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader x Cersei Lannister. TW: Domestic abuse.)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The stand off between you, your husband, and the queen had gone on for days.

You certainly didn't intend to apologize for a bit of teasing, in fact it only made you more determined to win.

Brushing off Sandor was easy enough once you got past his kicked puppy face when you reject his advances. Though you had to admit, the dejected look in his eyes did pull at your heart strings.

The queen, on the other hand, was harder to fend off. It was clear she hadn't expected this stand off to last more than a few hours.

But you were determined neither one of them would touch you until YOU approached them.

But that didn't keep you from your duties, tailing the queen throughout her day and tending to her needs as you had done before.

"Are you still being stubborn?" The queen asked cooly

"Yes, Your Grace."

"And how is your husband taking it?"

You smirked a little.

"I think I saw him hit the training dummy a little harder than necessary, Your Grace."

Cersei couldn't help but chuckle, but stifled it as a page approached them.

"The Hand has awakened, My Queen" the young man bowed. "You asked to be told immediately."

"Finally." Cersei hissed. "I won't let Robert wriggle Ned Stark off the hook this time. Come."

Cersei snatched up your hand and all but dragged you to the Tower of the Hand.

Robert had beaten you both there and was already standing by The Hand's bedside when you entered.

Robert glanced at you a moment but decided you weren't worth the fight as Ned's head shook from side to side.

The onslaught of questions was so immediate, you almost felt bad for Lord Stark, who firmly stood his ground.

The options were simple, it seemed. Lord Stark was to make amends with Jaime, his wife was to release Lord Tyrion, and he was to return to his duties as Hand.

Cersei fumed at this. "You allow his daughter to attack our son, his wife to kidnap my younger brother, and his men to attack my twin?" She hissed. "I took you for a king! I should wear the armour and you the gown!"

You nearly lunged forward when Robert's large hand came across Cersei's face. The queen sat a moment in stunned silence before smirking, rubbing the growing red welt on her face.

"I shall wear this like a badge of Honor"

You felt the burning fires of rage eat away in your chest as Cersei dragged you away. For a moment you looked into Robert's face and only saw red.

The two of you walked silently before you could not longer keep yourself from speaking out.

"That was wrong of him." You said plainly, the lines of your face tight and drawn. "Very wrong."

"I know"

"That wasn't the first time, was it?" You grabbed her arm, daring to show a level of familiarity outside the bed chamber.

Cersei looked stunned but shook her head. "No, darling. It wasn't"

"Do they know? Your brothers, your father?"

"Jaime would cut him in two." Cersei scoffed.

"Maybe he ought to" you sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry your grace. The was a treasonous thing to say and completely out of line"

Cersei's eyes watched you for what felt like an eternity before touching your face gently. You moved to do the same, caressing the swelling side of her face and frowning.

"This needs ice"

Cersei nodded with a thoughtful sigh. "Why don't you fetch me some? Bring it to my chambers."

You obeyed swiftly. You knew Pycelle would have what you needed, and were willing to risk a long winded conversation to get it.

You didn't mention what it was for, which Pycelle muttered in dissatisfaction over. The old man was a wizened busy body, constantly monologuing.

As he fumbled with an ice pick, chipping away at the carefully stored block of ice kept under the floor boards, you glanced around at the bottles and vials, all containing unknown liquids of various makeups.

Your eyes glanced over one that looked familiar.

Essence of Nightshade.

You had delivered this particular potion to Cersei more than once in the past, always with the warning to only administer 1 to 3 drops.

Anymore was deadly.

"Grandmaester" you said curiously. "I do have one more question if you don't mind."

"Of course, my lady" the old man nodded. "Anything"

"It's something of a private matter" you began, "I was wondering if you had anything to boost fertility? As you know it's been several months since my wedding night and I'm afraid we havent had much luck."

"Ah!" Pycelle seemed eager to aid her, fumbling with tomes and ledgers of every combination of herbs imaginable."Of course! Not that you should be worried yet, after all it's only been a few months. But I can understand your nervousness. Yes, it's quite common among older wives, but not to worry. It is still very possible for a wife your age to bear many children."

As he rambled, your hands moved like a shadow. By the time he turned around, the vial was tucked securely in your bodice and your face told his you had listened to every word he said.

"Here you are, my dear" Pycelle handed you a large sachet of strange smelling herbs. "Have this made into a strong tea and drink three cups every day. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Grand Maester" you nodded, taking your leave without waiting for him to dive into another lecture.

The ice was half melted in your hand by the time you arrived in Cersei's quarters.

"Thank you, pet." The queen pressed the cold bundle to her face. "I take it he took his time?"

"Not as much as he could have" You shrugged. "Are you alright?"

"Fine" Cersei nodded, "Robert is going hunting tomorrow at dawn, so at least I won't have to see him."

You nodded, finding your opening. "What poor souls is he dragging with him this time?"

"Oh, Barristan of course, Renly. And of course Lancel, my poor cousin. I should have known better than to make Robert take him on as Squire."

Lancel, you thought, you knew that name.

"I think I've met Lancel, haven't I?"

"Once, briefly." Cersei beckoned you onto her love seat and leaned against you. Even now she was a true beauty, all golden shimmers and scarlet silk. "You probably remember him running after Robert looking like a scared chicken."

Oh yes, you thought, I remember him now.

"I should get going." You breathed reluctantly. "Pycelle gave me these herbs and they're supposed to help with....you know"

"Ah" Cersei smirked knowing. "So you've decided to call a truce."

"For the sake of House Clegane and my marriage, I have decided to yield" you confessed, planting a firm kiss in your lover's lips before making for the door.

At first, you had no idea where to find Lancel, then you remembered what 90% of his duties were.

The wine cellars of The Red Keep were cold and dank, perfect for preserving the thousands of vintages stored in wooden barrels that lined the stone walls.

"Lancel" you called softly. "Are you down here?"

You spied a crop of white blond hair in the torch light and smirked, "are you hiding?"

A pair of sea blue eyes peered out from behind a set of stacked barrels.

"Please don't tell the king" he nearly whimpered.

"I won't" you assured him kindly. "I'd hide down here too, if I had your job."

Lancel got a good look at you in the flickering flames and frowned, "Lady Clegane?"

You noticed the half empty wine flask that dangled from his hand and motioned to it.

"May I?"

"Oh!" The squire paled and extended the flask to you. "Please, my lady."

"You don't have to call me that, you know." You chuckled lightly, "I'm not a lady. Not a real one."

"Whatever would I call you then?" The young man asked, slowly relaxing as you took a swig from the flask. The wine was sweet and rolled down your throat like liquid silk. An excellent vintage.

"You have good taste" you complimented, handing the flask back to him, "you may call me Y/N, if you like."

"Really?" Lancel blinked, a light pink blush filling his face. "My lady, I don't think-"

"Relax, Lancel" you scoffed, "I didn't come down here to seduce you. I came to check in."

"Why?"

You frowned, moving closer to the squire, "he's very cruel to you, isn't he? I've heard the way he talks to you, and it isn't right."

Lancel paused a moment before nodding, looking at his feet. "He called my mother a dumb whore."

"And that was very wrong of him." You pressed. "It's not right to talk like that to anyone, even if he is the king."

"But what can be done?" Lancel bemoaned. "He doesn't listen to anyone. Not even Ned Stark."

"I think" You began slowly. "The only thing that gets to a man like The King, is to be reminded that he isn't all powerful. That even kings must depend on those around them when they stumble."

"What do you mean?"

Slowly, you removed the Essence of Nightshade from your bodice and handed it to him.

"Put a few drops of this into the king's wine during the hunt tomorrow." You instructed, "when he gets too drunk, he will have to lean on others to make it back to the palace. Maybe then he will realize how vulnerable he really is."

"Do you really think that will work?" Lancel turned the vial over in his hands, "and it won't hurt him?"

"Just don't add more than 10 drops" you instructed firmly. "Just enough to throw him off, not enough to hurt him."

Lancel seemed nervous but nodded.

"Brave Lad" you cupped his cheek tenderly and he seemed to lean into it. "Now remember, this stays between us. We aren't hurting anyone, just teaching him a lesson. Right?"

"Right." Lancel's voice went from soft to firm and you knew he was ready.

"You're a good man, Lancel" you assured him and the squire blushed.

---------------------------------

The tea Pycelle perscribed smelled even worse when brewed.

The scent was sharp and medicinal and it stung your throat when you chugged the liquid to avoid actually tasting it.

"This shit better work" you muttered, trying not to gag.

The door to the chambers squealed open as you looked over your shoulder with a small smile.

"Good evening husband"

"Wife."

"Are you still cross with me?" You said in a teasing tone, curling your feet up into the chair you sat in and tucking them into your night gown.

He didn't answer and you rolled your eyes.

"Can we stop this please?" You sighed

"You started it." He snapped.

"No. You started it." You corrected him with a huff. "This isn't helping."

Sandor kicked off his boots in frustrated silence and you moved to the bed next to him.

"Can we talk about this?"

"Not much to talk about."

"Well," you breathed, "It felt really, I don't know, strange, that you and the queen talked about me."

He glanced at you but didn't fully turn to look. "Why?"

"I don't know" you mumbled, "I guess I just have a different relationship with her than I do with you."

Sandor frowned at this but tried not to jump to conclusions. "Explain"

"The queen is....I love her. I would do anything for her, but she isn't like you. She is the queen, and I am still her servant. She tells me what to do and where to go because when I'm at court and around her it is my job to. And it's a job I take great pride in."

You crossed your arms and leaned on his slightly.

"But you. You're different. I love you so much. If I lost my place in court tomorrow it would hurt. Maybe more than anything ever has hurt. But I know that I could move on from it if I needed to. Because it's a job. But I don't want to be your servant Sandor, I want to be your wife. I want us to be partners. Does that make any sense?"

You waited for a response, but all that came was a large arm draping itself across your shoulders, pulling you into his chest with a deep sigh.

"Come to bed" he grumbled, pulling your body with his as he moved up the bed towards the pillows.

He was a man of few words, you knew that. So if this was the only acknowledgment you were getting, you accepted it openly, curling against his chest as his arms locked around you.

#cersei lannister x reader #sandor clegane x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #her grace's handmaiden #asoiaf fanfiction

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livingdreams97 · 2 years

Text

Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 1)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

Words: 3.835

Masterlist

NOTE: If you see any spelling mistake im sorry, english is not my first lenguage and i try to do it the best possible.

POV Narrator

House Baratheon of Storm's End is a noble house of the Stormlands. With the emblem of a sable-crowned deer, on a field of gold and the motto “Ours is the Fury” .

House Baratheon gained renown when Robert Baratheon, head of House Baratheon and lord of Storm's End, led a rebellion against the Targaryen Dynasty and emerged victorious.

King Robert married Cercei Lannister, with whom he later had four children and a bastard son out of wedlock. All the king's children were completely different from him in appearance, they were blond, blue-eyed and had features identical to their mother's. All but one; the oldest.

Y/n Baratheon has always been completely different from the rest of his siblings, from his physique, to his personality and to the treatment he received from both parents. He had brown hair like all Baratheons, his eyes were green and brown.

In fact, from the day of his birth, they discovered a disease in his eyes, a disease that only made him look more identical to his Baratheon blood. The prince was born with Heterochromia, thus having the right eye of a leafy green color like the forest and the left of the color brown characteristic of his surname.

His physique at a young age was identical to that of his father, when he was his age and had a healthy physique. He had a personality very similar to his father, playful but serious when he should be, he knew how to behave when he was told, he liked to enjoy the little things and he has a heart that is too big.

King Robert saw in Y/n the perfect son, he saw himself reflected in his little fawn and from the day of his birth; It became his most precious possession. Especially after the rest of his children were born and none had a single faction similar to his.

And on his deathbed, the only one King Robert wanted to see and the only person he wanted to say goodbye to was his first son. The son who should have reigned after his father's death, but who, due to guilt and insecurity, did not accept the crown. An act that would bring consequences and great regret on the part of the young deer.

While Y/n was his father's sweetheart and his clear favorite child, his mother was the complete opposite and she never missed an opportunity to show her contempt for her first child behind closed doors.

When Y/n was born, his mother was in love with him and his eyes. Cercei spent hours and hours looking into the different but mesmerizing eyes of her first cub. But a year later, after the birth of her second son Joffrey, Y/n faded into the background and was never her mother's priority never again.

When Cercei saw Joffrey's blue eyes and blond hair, she knew what that combination meant. In Joffrey she saw herself and her brother Jaime reflected in the child. As her children grew and two more were added to the family, the clearer was Cercei's contempt for her first heir.

Y/n didn't look like a Lannister, it wasn't one of her cubs but a deer and she didn't want him. Especially when Joffrey began to adopt a personality very similar to his mother's and became everything his mother wanted him to be.

The day Joffrey died in his mother's arms, everything around her ceased to have so much importance and a part of her died with her son that day. Y/n tried to take the throne, but his mother forbade him and made sure he felt the guilt of his father's death, to prevent his coronation. And he got it.

Then it was Myrcella, the sweet and innocent only daughter of the lioness. A twisted death and in the form of a cruel revenge. Ellaria Sand poisoned Cercey's only daughter, through a kiss and an irreversible effect poison without the antidote.

Tommen was the next to reach the throne, but it did not work out very well when the Red Sparrow appeared and severely punished his mother for her sins. Cercei herself carried her youngest son into the arms of death, when she destroyed the Sept of Baelor and with it the beloved of her last two living children.

And that leaves us with now, where a Cercei Lannister is crowned queen after the explosion of the Sept of Baelor and a Y/n Baratheon is locked in the dungeon to prevent his coronation.

Daenerys POV

Tomorrow we leave Meereen for Dragonstone, my home and the home of my family. Home of the Targaryens, where dragons soared through the skies and my family was alive. Oh at least until King Robert Baratheon started the rebellion and usurped what is rightfully mine.

Tyrion: Your Majesty, can I talk about something with you? - asks knocking on the door of my chambers and sticking his head out.

Daenerys: I didn't think there was anything left to say after our talk a couple of hours ago.- I comment confused, stopping helping Missandei to pick up my clothes and alluding to our conversation about leaving Daario in Meereen ruling on my behalf.

Tyrion: And there wasn't.- He assures me entering my chambers and walking towards the wine table.

Daenerys: So what do you want to talk about? - I ask confused, walking towards where she is and sitting in one of the chairs.

Tyrion: Five minutes ago a letter arrived from King's Landing.- he announces, pouring himself a glass of wine. -A letter reporting the death of Tommen Baratheon, the coronation of my sister Cercei and the alleged disappearance of my last living nephew.- He informs me, sipping his wine.

Daenerys: I'm sorry for the death of your nephew Tyrion.- I assure him with a small sad smile. -The coronation of Cercei was something that we both saw coming, what I don't understand is why mention your other nephew.- I comment confused.

I have known Tyrion for a year and he has hardly ever talked about his family. The times he has done it has been to make a negative comment against his sister and father. His nephews are something he rarely talks about and when he does he never mentions them much.

Tyrion: I am afraid of the well-being of my nephew, my queen.- He assures me with some concern. -He is the only one who can take my sister's crown and his disappearance could not have happened on a better occasion for Cercei.- he tells me. -I fear for the life of my nephew, he has never been very loved by his mother and as much as he is her last living son, my sister does not have much esteem for his life.- he explains to me and I avoid opening my eyes surprised by what that my hand is insinuating.

Daenerys: But it's her son, I don't think that your sister, no matter how bad she is, inflicts pain and less death on her own blood.- I deny scared by the idea of it.

Tyrion: And believe me I wish that was the case.- Agrees with me. -But I know my sister, I know her ambitions and what she is capable of doing to get what she wants.- he assures me and I see the slight panic in her eyes.

Daenerys: You fear that your nephew is dead or is going to die so that Cercei keeps the crown.- I say a little unsure, understanding what he means and receiving a nod. -And what can I do? - I ask interested and wanting to help.

Tyrion: Just take him in.- He answers me simply and I look at him confused.

Daenerys: Take him in? What do you mean by that?- I ask in confusion.

Tyrion: The letter has reached Varys from one of his contacts, in the letter they report on the disappearance of my nephew and the extra presence of guards in the castle dungeons.- he tells me calmly.

Daenerys: But I still don't understand what my role is in this.- I comment still confused with the situation.

Tyrion: Varys has contacts in the city, contacts that can free my nephew and put him on the first ship to Dragonstone or a nearby port.- He explains to me and I see where he is going.

Daenerys: And you want me to take in one of the sons of a traitor, a usurper and the same person who kicked my family out of his home.- I assure myself, getting up from the chair furious.

Tyrion: I know it's a lot to ask my queen, but as the saying goes for you; it also does it for my nephew.- He comments, leaving the glass on the table. -You are not your father and you cannot be blamed for what he did in the past, therefore; my nephew should not be judged for the acts of his father as you have not been for those of your father.- It reminds me of the phrase that I myself have repeated several times.

Daenerys: I know you're right about that, but I don't think I can trust the son of my enemy.- I deny going out to the terrace of my rooms.

Tyrion: Please my queen.- he asks me leaving behind me. -I'm not asking you to trust him, but to trust me and give my nephew an option.- he says pleadingly.

Daenerys: I don't think it's the best time Tyrion, we're just a little bit away from getting my throne and proclaiming my position as queen.- I remind him seriously.

Tyrion: That's why my nephew can help you proclaim the throne.- he says quickly.

Daenerys: How can your nephew help me? - I ask without understanding.

Tyrion: Y/n Baratheon is the only legitimate son of King Robert, he is the true heir to the throne and believe it or not, he is very loved by the people in King´s Landing.- he answers me quickly.

Daenerys: I don't know Tyrion, I'm not sure.- I say a little worried. -Because if he is the heir, he has never before risen to the throne and has allowed his brothers to be kings?- I ask curiously.

Tyrion: The day his father was attacked by a wild boar, he was hunting with Robert and blamed himself for his death.- he tells me with a small grimace. -He refused to accept the crown because he felt guilty, at that time Y/n was 17 years old and seeing his father, the only person who really wanted him to die before his eyes destroyed him.- he explains to me and I can't help but feel sorry for him.

Daenerys: And then, because Tommen was crowned and not Y/n? - I ask interested.

Tyrion: I don't know, my queen, but I wouldn't doubt my sister's presence in her decision and in the coronation of Tommen instead of Y/n.- He answers me and I think for a few seconds.

Daenerys: Okay.- I nod letting out a sigh. - Tell Varys to get a ship to take him to Sharp point and you will go look for him on a ship to take him to Dragonstone.- I tell him seriously.

Tyrion: Thank you very much, Your Majesty.- He thanks me with a huge smile before running out of my chambers.

I stay silent for a few seconds, enjoying the views of meereen for a few last moments and going back inside my bedroom. I see Missandei putting away my clothes and I go back to help her pick up.

Missandei: It is very generous of you to help young Baratheon, Daenerys.- She assures me with a shy smile.

Daenerys: I don't know if it's generous or not, but I just hope it doesn't bring me problems.- I whisper with a sigh.

I hope that Tyrion does not betray me and his nephew tries to assassinate me on the orders of his made. I don't want to regret opening the doors to both of them and ending up having to kill them both for treason. I just hope this doesn't blow up in my face.

POV You

I don't know how long I've been locked up in the dungeon, I don't know if it's been just hours, days, weeks or months. All I want is to die. I don't want to remember, I don't want to think and above all; I don't want to feel

I have lost everything, I lost my father and the only father figure who loved me almost seven years ago. I lost my only sister, the most innocent and joyful person I've known a little over a year ago. I've lost the only brother who showed me affection and appreciation for nothing, practically the same time I've been locked up here.

But that's not the worst of it. Not only have I lost my last brother, but I have lost the woman I loved and who loved me forever. Besides that I lost them the same day.

I know that many would be surprised and would raise their voices in contempt if they knew the truth. If they only knew that while my beloved, Margaery Tyrell was publicly with my brother Tommen and privately with me.

It wasn't my brightest idea to fall in love with my brother Joffrey's fiancee, but I couldn't help it and I don't regret it either. I have never been as happy as with Margaery; like when we spent sleepless nights in my rooms, talking, reading books and making love for hours.

For her I was going to declare my right to the throne after Joffrey's death, so I could be with her and we could marry. But my mother reminded me that if I wasn't even able to protect and save my own father, how could I protect an entire kingdom.

I had to watch as the love of my life married my younger brother, while I watched from a corner and suffered in silence to see the person I loved marrying my own blood.

But that didn't mean anything within the four walls of my bedroom, Margaery kept coming every night and we showed how much we loved each other. Or at least we did, until my mother had the Sept of Baelor destroyed with Margaery and the Sparrow inside.

That was the last thing I saw, before my mother's guards entered my chambers and brought me to the dungeons. The green color of wildfire and how the Sept was exploding being my last memories of the outside.

I can't sleep, remembering that deep green and Margaery's face smiling between my sheets every time my eyes close. So to avoid remembering, I avoid sleeping and close my eyes for no less than two seconds.

I jump where I am sitting on the floor, when I hear the door close and see how it begins to open. I just mentally prepare myself for what's to come, knowing that the only three times that door has been opened it hasn't been to feed me; but rather so that my mother's soldiers beat me to know what my place is.

I swallow hard, when I see two soldiers enter the dungeon in a rush and clearly in a hurry.

XY: Get up.- one of them orders me and I can only look at them confused. -Get up.- he growls, approaching me and pulling my arm up.

XY2: We don't have much time, we only have twenty minutes until they realize the lack of soldiers at your door and that you've disappeared to get on the ship.- the second explains to me, imitating his partner, when he sees that I can't walk very well and helping me to walk.

Y/n: Where are we going? - I ask with a hoarse voice, for not having spoken in time and for the lack of water.

XY2: First you'll go to Sharp point and there they'll pick you up to go somewhere.- He answers me walking quickly and securing my arm around his shoulders.

Y/n: But who is going to come for me? - I ask completely confused and with a cloudy mind.

Probably due to the lack of food, water, light and lack of movement since I've been in the dungeon.

XY: We think that Varys, we owed him a favor and you must be important to him, because he asked us to get you out of here.- He answers me with a slight grunt.

They hurriedly walk through the underground corridors of the castle, carrying me on their shoulders and carrying me towards the small beach behind the castle. Once outside, I see that it is night and I can see a small boat on the shore of the beach.

They lift me onto the boat, quickly stripping off their uniforms and pushing the boat out into the water.

XY2: Now we'll get you on a bigger ship and you'll have to hide in a box until they tell you to leave.- He informs me and I nod seeing the castle where I've grown further and further away.

I don't know how much time has passed since they put me on the ship, they put me in a box with holes in the hold and they left me locked up here. What I can tell is that there is a big storm, by the way the ship moves and by the sound of thunder.

The only positive part of this is the bread and water that I have been given as soon as I have been put in the box. My stomach and throat greatly appreciate those two things.

Suddenly one of the walls of the box opens, causing me to fall on my back and jump out of the box suddenly. I widen my eyes in surprise, fearing that it was someone helping my mother and that I would give myself to her again.

But my eyes fill with tears, when my eyes connect with familiar blue ones and a smile full of affection. I throw myself at my uncle, hugging him with all my strength and ignoring the pain in my body as I do so.

Y/n: You're alive, mother said you were dead.- I whisper separating myself from the hug to see better. -You're older.- I comment and he laughs yes in response.

Tyrion: And you look horrible.- He says to me, pointing at me, and it's the first time I've seen my clothes.

What used to be a dark gray jacket of good linen, with a black shirt underneath and black pants; it is no longer what it was before the dungeon. Now I'm just wearing the shirt, pants and shoes.

The shirt is dirty and torn in some places, where the guards grabbed me or where they made a cut where you can still see the dried blood. While the pants are just dirty and slightly torn at the bottom.

Y/n: Where have you been? - I ask confused.

Tyrion: It's a long story and I'd rather tell you at another time.- He answers me seriously. -Now we have to get out of here and take you to Dragonstone right away.- he informs me and I try to get up, but my legs fail me and I end up falling to the ground on my knees.

Y/n: I can't.- I whisper, feeling the pain in my muscles.

Tyrion: Wait two seconds.- He says and leaves the cellar with quick steps.

Not much happens, until my uncle comes back with a soldier and he puts my arm around his shoulders. With the help of the soldier, the three of us walked out and, crossing a wooden bridge, got on the next boat.

Tyrion: Soon we will arrive at the castle, where you can take a bath and where you can clean those wounds.- Points to one of the cuts that can be seen thanks to the hole in the shirt.

Y/n: Thank you.- I whisper sitting on the chair and trying to keep my eyes open.

Tyrion: When was the last time you slept or ate? - He asks me, clearly worried.

Y/n: I don't know.- I answer honestly. -I haven't eaten or slept since the explosion in the Sept of Baelor.- I comment and I see how he opens his eyes completely surprised.

Tyrion: Y/n that was a week ago.- he whispers and I open my eyes in surprise. -I think the best thing would be to take you to one of the cabins so you can sleep a bit.- he says, getting up from his chair.

Y/n: No.- I quickly refuse. -I don't need to sleep.- I assure him with open eyes.

Tyrion: Y/n it's not true, you do need to sleep and you would agree with me if you saw yourself in a mirror.- He points to my face and I look away.

Y/n: I'm fine.- I assure her in a whisper, swallowing hard and refusing to sleep.

Tyrion: I'm your uncle, I've known you since the day you were born and I know when you lie.- He points out, approaching me and sitting back in his chair. -What's wrong? Why don't you want to sleep? - He asks me worried.

Y/n: I can't.- I admit without wanting to look at him.

Tyrion: But why can't you? - He asks me, clearly interested and worried about my state.

Y/n: Because every time I close my eyes, the only thing I see is the vibrant green color of wildfire and her face.- I answer in barely a whisper, feeling my eyes water again and my throat close.

Tyrion: Whose face? - asks without understanding anything.

Y/n: Her face.- I answer without wanting to specify.

Tyrion: I don't understand Y/n, you have to be more specific and tell me the face of who you see.- he asks me and I bite my lip to avoid crying.

Y/n: Margaery.- I whisper almost without a voice, feeling a tear slide down my cheek and fall on my hand in my lap.

Tyrion: Oh nephew.- he whispers getting up from his chair and approaching me to place his hand on mine. - Everything will pass, love and losses hurt for a while, but then that pain disappears and just becomes a ghost of memory. - He assures me, leaving a squeeze on my hand and trying to comfort me.

We sit in silence for a few moments, with me crying for the first time since Tommen and Margaery died. One week. It's been a week and I don't know it. Did they have a decent funeral?

Y/n: Why are we going to Dragonstone? - I ask, breaking the silence and wanting to talk about something else.

Tyrion: Because the next queen of the seven kingdoms awaits us, your future ally and the woman who will change the world.- He answers vaguely, but I am very tired both emotionally and physically; how to ask for more

Do you guys think that the parts are too long? Or they have a good lenght?

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