#jaime lannister x fem!reader

[mawofmeraxes]

Nothing That Will Stop Me

request: hello! i saw your recent post and was wondering if i could request a jaime lannister x reader fic, where the reader was captured (much like he was in season 2) and he kept looking for her but couldn’t find her, and she finally finds her way back to him after months. and it’s like their reunion and he’s so relieved yet concerned and he takes care of her and yeah :)

thank you and i hope ur having a good day! and ofc feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel comfortable writing it <3

summary: After enduring months of suffering under the hand of your captor, the dragon queen Daenerys Targaryen, your memory and studies of the guards allows you to narrowly escape and make your way back home to the one person who never stopped trying to find you, Jaime.

characters: jaime lannister x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending, romance, reunion, captivity, wounds, cursing, imprisonment, almost death, murder, unsexual nudity, bathing scene, anti-daenerys targaryen

masterlist

In hindsight, maybe it had not been a good idea for you to accompany Jaime for the capture of Highgarden.

But you were a warrior just like he was, and neither your gender nor the expectations put upon you would stop you from participating in the fight that surely was to occur as you took Highgarden and all of its resources.

Your only regret was that Lady Olenna had to die.

While she may have seemed like a stone-cold bitch (and she was), she was also a woman that you had admired very much.

She would speak her mind with no regard or care for who was listening, got people to do what needed to be done, and even got shit done herself.

You had been suspicious over the true identity of Joffrey's murderer, as you simply knew that it could not be Tyrion who had done it.

So when Olenna had confirmed it for you and Jaime after drinking the poison, you were not surprised at all. No, you knew exactly why she had done it. For her lovely granddaughter.

The same granddaughter who was now ashes where the Sept of Baelor used to be.

Ironic, wasn't it?

Not long later found you, Jaime, and Bronn on the road back to King's Landing, watching as the carts and the men slowly made their way with the new resources.

Bronn had been paid handsomely, as was expected, and you just sat there and waited for what your lover wished to do next.

The main reason why you coming was a mistake, Jaime would later think, was that nobody thought about what the dragon queen would do in retaliation.

The Dothraki screamers were a sight to behold, and you had truly never been so scared of anything more in your entire life. Those men were ruthless, skilled fighters who knew exactly what they were doing.

And then Daenerys Targaryen herself flew in on her dragon and began burning everything in sight, and that's when you knew you were truly fucked.

You didn't foresee being captured at all. You simply thought that you would be slain in battle due to the chaos that surrounded you. Assumed that you would die while attempting to protect yourself.

Losing sight of Jaime was a clear mistake. You didn’t see him again during or after the fight. Perhaps that was a good thing, but you didn't know if that meant that he got away or if he was burnt to a pile of ashes.

When you later stand among the captured men being threatened by a dragon to kneel and submit to the new queen, you knew you could not do so. Simply for your loyalty to Jaime. No one else.

You would never betray him.

When you saw Tyrion Lannister you were not entirely shocked. Knowing that somehow you would be crossing paths with him again. And when Daenerys questioned a woman being a soldier you had simply stared at her, no words to say for the spiteful woman who had just burned so many men alive.

She was clearly ready to burn you alive as well, a look of pure rage and death in her eyes, but luckily for you, Tyrion's oh-so-smooth tongue and fanciful words about your connection to the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister seemed to sway her, and suddenly you were a prisoner.

You had lost track of time as the days went on. You did not know if it had been days, weeks, or months since you had been separated from Jaime.

You did not even know where you were at this point. Dragonstone? Where Daenerys had set up her base? Maybe you were somewhere in Essos, shipped off far away never to be found again before you die. You simply had no idea. All you knew was that you were carted off for days upon days on land before being brought onto a ship where you remained for a few more days. Before leaving the boat you were blindfolded and bound and dragged to the cell where you have stayed ever since.

You had thought about escaping of course, but you knew that your chances of surviving were slim, as all of the people in the queen's employ were ruthless and willing to do anything for her.

So here you remained. Unknowing if the love of your life was dead or not. Clueless as to whether you would be able to get out of this alive and try to find him.

But if he was alive, was he even looking for you? Was he even trying to find you?

You didn't know.

Maybe you never would. Maybe you would die in this dark, cold cell with no one even remembering who you are or what your name was.

But you didn't want that. You really didn't.

The only upside to being sequestered to the same cell day in and day out is that you've been able to just sit and watch when your guards changed, what time of day it was, how long each guard would stay for, and everything else that would help you plot your escape.

You knew exactly when the perfect time for you to attempt it was, the only problem that you were going to encounter was figuring out where exactly you were the second you got out.

Being brought here on a boat brought about the biggest problem that you would come across. If you were on Dragonstone, which would make the most sense, you would somehow need to find a smaller boat of some sort to cart you back onto the mainland.

So you hoped you weren't on Dragonstone.

-

You ended up being on Dragonstone.

Honestly no surprise there, you saw it coming from a mile away.

You could also see the dragons that circled in the sky.

If they hadn't almost killed you the day you had been captured, you would have thought them beautiful and majestic up there. But now, all you could think about was the death and fear they wrought.

Getting far away enough from the castle and using your knowledge of the maps you had studied had luckily gotten you to the single village that resided on the island. Finding some food and a boat to steal from there hadn't been any harder, and you had luckily been able to row yourself east until you hit land, rowing until you could barely feel your arms.

The plan from there was to start heading south until you would hopefully hit Kings Landing and be able to see if Jaime was there, hopefully still alive and breathing and not burnt to a crisp like many others.

When you did end up finding land, you decided that sticking to the coastline would be your best bet of not getting lost and went south for a whole day on foot until you reached Duskendale. When you asked the barmaid at the nearest tavern and inn how far Kings Landing was from there, she told you on foot it would take about a day and a half of travel.

Exactly what you needed to hear.

You spent the night at the inn using the coin that you stole while on Dragonstone.

It was honestly the best night's rest that you had had in ages. Whether it was due to the hay bed that you laid on or the fact that you knew that you were going to be reunited with Jaime soon, you were luckily able to rest through the night with no disturbances. You continued your journey in the morning.

You weren't used to walking long distances like this anymore. After your imprisonment, you were feeling weak and tired. The muscles that used to line your body were no longer strong due to disuse, and the lack of good food and water helped to ensure that you were not at your best. 

So the day-and-a-half trip that was predicted turned to two and a half days, as you rested often and refused to push your body to the limits.

No use in rushing back home if you would just die along the way.

And almost three days later when you kept walking and began to see the red keep in the distance you could have cried in relief. It would only be a few hour’s walk and then you would be home. With Jaime.

If you didn’t die in the slums of Kings Landing first.

Arriving in the city was no different than the thousands of times you had done it before. The only difference this time was that you would have to make your way to the red keep on your own, with no guards or carriages to cover you.

Luckily you were not recognizable at this point as a proper lady. Your hair was marred with dirt and tangled from your imprisonment. Your clothes were ratty and almost falling off of your back. You blended in completely with some of the poorer folks of the city, and as you continued making your way through street after street you started to become worried that you wouldn’t even be allowed in the red keep at this point.

Luckily you had spent many a moon in the castle. Which meant that you knew some of the secret passages like the back of your hand.

It was easy to find the nearest one that led to Jaime’s room again. You had never forgotten it even when you spent moons alone in your solitude. 

You had spent many nights sneaking in and out of his rooms, doing things that you shouldn’t have been doing, and going into the dangerous city when you knew it wouldn’t be recommended for a lady of your status.

But the lady of your status that you were supposed to be was non-existent, and the warrior you were captured as had much to say and much to do. Like sneaking into the city.

But that didn’t matter anymore.

All that mattered was being home.

You were walking up the last staircase now, taking your time as they took their toll on your weak frame.

Just a few more steps and the wall on the left would push straight into Jaime’s room. Opening up right behind a large tapestry that no one would have suspected. 

Luckily the sun was still high up in the sky, meaning that you wouldn’t be coming into the room while he was possibly sleeping.

If he was even here.

During your time getting back to King's Landing you had much time to think about where Jaime could be. If he had made it out of Daenerys’ attack. You hadn’t seen him when you had been lined up with the others, but that could mean anything. He could have been able to get away or he could have been burnt to ash. Unrecognizable to everyone. A pile of ash.

You had to hope that he was still alive though. That he had made it out and had been hoping, waiting, and searching for you while you plotted your escape from the dragon queen.

Now would be the time to find out if it was all for nothing.

If you were to enter this room just for him to be dead, you would have escaped for nothing.

You would have rather died in that damp musty cell than come all the way here just to have your heart broken.

At this point, you don’t even know what you'd do if you were to find out that he was gone. You didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not while you were so close.

The door was right there now. All you had to do was push and it would lead you straight into his room.

When you did so, it didn’t feel like anything special. It was just any other secret passageway door. It opened until it was slightly hindered by the tapestry that rested against it. But you kept pushing with all of your might until there was enough room for you to slip through and push it back closed.

When you turned to take in the room it was like nothing had changed. It still looked the same as the last time that you had seen it. Lush, red, and gold, with some of Jaime’s belongings strung about.

And there, in almost the center of the room, sat Jaime.

He was at the table that you both frequently ate at, drinking a glass of wine and staring at the table as though it had the secrets of the world inside of it. He had a blank look on his face, not portraying any clear emotion.

You felt the tears start to well up in your eyes at the sight of him. 

After all these months, all of this struggle you had finally made it back to him. And he was okay. 

He was alive. It’s the only thing you could have ever asked for. Prayed for.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the mere sight of him. Absorbing it all.

It was like he hadn’t changed at all. His golden brown stair still shined the same. His rugged beard that lay on his jaw was unshaven and messy, exactly how you liked it. The only difference was the bags under his eyes. He looked restless and like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he was so heartbroken and worried over your capture that he had not been able to sleep properly the whole time.

Of course, you were right.

You couldn’t stand there any longer, you needed to hold him. Feel him. 

“Jaime…” Your voice croaks out.

His eyes widen, and his head jerks a little but his eyes remain glued to the table. Like he can’t believe he heard your voice. Like you're unreal.

You murmur his name again, and this time he turns his head to look in your direction. His eyes are wide, full of shock and disbelief. “What…” He whispers it, the sound barely heard from where you stand across the room. He stands up slowly, eyes still on your frame as though you’ll disappear if he looks away. “Is it really you?” He questions, slowly stepping towards you as though you were a frightened doe.

A smile starts to spread across your face, your eyes widening in relief. “It’s me, Jaime.” And take your own steps towards him, meeting him halfway.

When you both come together again everything feels right. His arms wrap around you as tight as they possibly can, his right arm around your waist while his left wraps around your shoulders with his hand cradling your head. Your arms come to wrap around him just as tight.

You stand there for a moment, feeling the warmth that his body emits. His breath hot as it brushes the top of your head in quick pants. You can feel the scratchiness of the top he wears.

But then you feel the shuddering that begins in his chest and leaves his mouth as a sob. He pulls you in tighter, breathing picking up as he begins gasping for breath as more and more sobs leave his body and warm tears start to fall onto the top of your head as he cradles it into his chest.

Tears have started welling up in your own eyes at this point, soon turning into sobs of your own as you both hold each other with plans of never letting go.

At this point, Jaime had thought you dead. He thought that you had been either killed in the Reach or captured by the false queen and executed for being her enemy. But here you were. Warm, whole, and in his arms again. Although you did look worse for wear. Hair tangled in knots while your clothes lay in almost tatters on your body. You were dirty, mud and dirt smudged across your face and under your nails. But it was you, and at this moment you had never looked more beautiful to him. You were alive.

He loosens his grip around you and pulls back slightly so he can look at your face. His eyes meet yours and you smile in joy when you see that happiness that reflects back at you. “I thought you dead.” He whispers, his left hand moving from the back of your head to cradle your cheek.

You move your own hand to cover his, “I thought you dead as well. I did not know if you had escaped or not.” You turn away a little bit and close your eyes at the memory of the nights you cried until you passed out in the cell. Cried at the thought of him dead forever. “I had no way of knowing if you died. The fields were ash by the time she captured the rest of us.” You turn to look back at him now, the look on his face mimics your own.

“I had hoped for so many nights that you were not dead, but the thought of you captured did not sound any better.” A scowl starts to mar his face. “Knowing that that false queen had you this whole time-” He cuts himself off and abruptly pulls his arms off of you, not taking note of you jumping in shock at the action. He then starts to pace the floors of the room, running his hand through his hair. “I will have her head for what she has done.” He continues pacing, not looking at you as he shakes his head in anger at the audacity of that Targaryen whore before he abruptly turns his head in your direction and stops pacing. “Look at you.” 

He walks back over to you, picking at the rags that cover your body. “I’ll have the maids prepare a bath for you.”

And then he’s walking towards the door, calling out to the maids for a meal and a bath.

All of the maids come rushing into the room in a flurry, and you just stand there and wait as Jaime directs them on what food and clothes he wants them to bring for you.

You only stand there waiting for a few short minutes before the bath is ready, as it’s the one thing he impressed upon the maids as most important. 

When you walk into the bathing chambers the large marble bath that rests within it is full of steaming water filled with flowers and oils. You feel all of the stress simply fall off of you as you breathe in the warm air and let it soothe you. 

Jaime walks in immediately after you, folded clothes resting in his hand for you to change into when you are done bathing. He sets them done before walking over to you, eyes wide and open. “Allow me to help you, my love.” He says and you simply nod while he begins to undress you.

He pulls off the tattered tunic that you wear, throwing it to the side before he unwraps the band you have covering your breasts, allowing you to breathe freely with no restrictions. Next, he rids you of the breaches that you wear, basically tearing them off due to the rips and holes that they already possess. 

The entire time you watch him as he works, watching as he uses his one hand to help you undress, providing one of your hands in assistance whenever he has trouble. Something that you have both long since grown used to doing.

Once you stand bare before him he lightly grabs onto your shoulder to guide you over to the tub. “Rest in the tub for a moment, love.” He helps get your weak frame into the water. You only realize now how exhausted you are. You haven’t eaten a proper meal in months and using your muscles after going so long without has proven to be a strain on your energy. You simply nod as you feel the hot water soothe and calm your aching muscles.

You don’t know how long you sit there before Jaime is asking you to dip your head back into the water to wet your hair so that he can brush through it for you.

“I never wish to be separated from you again, Jaime.” You whisper into the warm air, turning your head so that your eyes can meet his.

He looks into your eyes, his green ones meeting your own, “Trust me, we will never be apart ever again.”

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[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden

Imagine being Queen Cersei's favorite handmaiden Pt.2

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

(Cersei x fem reader, slight Sandor x fem reader if you like it like that. I've decided this is going to be a series that will go into smutty territory eventually, but it'll definitely be a slow burn)

The ride north was an unforgiving one. Being lowborn, you had only admired horses from afar before being expected to ride in the Queen's entourage. Side saddle riding protected your modesty and spared your thighs the chafing that the Male riders suffered, but your lower back and shoulders ached all the same.

The queen rode in a lavish carriage with her three children, guarded closely on either side by Ser Jaime and Sandor Clegane.

Due to your inexperience riding and your new found favor with her grace, you were instructed to ride along side The Hound, who was under orders to keep any eye on you and intervene if the mare beneath you proved too rowdy.

It was clear that The Hound resented this duty, already having to keep an eye on the young Prince Joffery, who alternated between riding in the carriage and mounting his own steed. A bright white and rowdy gelding that was the torment of the other horses in the party. It nipped and whinied, trotting circles around the group in a foppish, showy manner.

The Hound, on the other hand, mounted a broad bodied horse that was black as midnight with a coal grey mane named Stranger.

As the prince took another lap, the white gelding nipped at the hindquarters of your mare for what must have been the fifth or sixth time that day. The mare, tired and frustrated with this harassment, finally decided to voice her displeasure by baying loudly and bouncing her back legs enough to bounce you around.

"No, no Girl. Whoa, stop stop stop" you squealed, pulling at the reins with as much force as you dared but the horse was too fed up to mind.

"Stop! Stop the carriage" a firm and regal voice put a halt to the party as Clegane snatched the reigns from your grasp and managed to settle the mare back into submission.

"Mother's Mercy!" A gruff voice growled, accompanied by the heavy trot of hooves. King Robert's face was red as a cherry from drink and frustration as he glared at the queen. "If you keep holding us up, Winterfell will be snowed in before we even get there!"

"I apologize, Your Grace" You bowed your head, face flushed with embarrassment. "It was my fault, I failed to control my mount. My deepest apologies."

Robert's eyes rolled nearly back to his skull with a begrudging sigh before flinging a finger at Clegane.

"You, Hound, let the girl ride with you and have that beast tethered to a wagon"

He tossed a glare back at the queen, a look which said 'you just had to bring her, didn't you?' Before returning to his place in the party.

"I'm sorry" you nearly whispered, tailing the gargantuan man as he tether the horse in brooding silence.

Heading back to Stranger, you nearly cried out as Clegane snatched the softness of your arm and all but dragged you up onto the horse in front of him. His grip was bruising and you had to force yourself not to rub the part where he snatched you like a hawk snatches a rabbit.

"Not one word" he growled "or I'll toss you from this horse and let you walk to Winterfell."

You rode until dusk, and your body didn't relax until you were safely once again on solid ground.

Once again, The Hound dismounted first before he gripped you by the waist, hard fingers pressing into the soft flesh under your riding clothes, and all but dragged you off the horse where you landed with a wobble of your knees.

"Y/N, To me" your mistress called and you rushed to her side immediately.

"Yes, Your Grace" your curtsey suffered from the weakness in your legs, but the Queen hardly seemed to notice.

"You had us worried there" She looked down at you with unreadable eyes, "You'll have to improve your riding if you wish to keep up"

"I will, Your Grace. Thank you"

"Take my things inside" she motioned vaguely to the inn at which you had stopped for the night. "Just follow King Robert's squire, he'll show you. Then come back for the children's things"

"Immediately, Your Grace"

The work was arduous, and by the time you finished it was past dark. The inn provided food and housing for the higher members of the entourage, but at The Queen's insistence you were to sleep at the foot of her bed as you did in The Red Keep.

Robert was apathetic to this. Ser Jaime, to your surprise, seemed genuinely disappointed by this and approached the queen when they thought they had a moment in private, not knowing you were settling the queen in as they spoke

"Don't worry" Cersei assured him "I'll just send her out"

-----------

After dinner, you tended to your queen with great care. Standing behind her as she sat on the edge of the plush feather bed, you gently pulled a comb through her golden locks, picking out any snags with extreme tenderness.

"Y/N, tonight my brother will be coming by to discuss some family matters and I want you out of the way."

"Of course, your grace." You complied, satisfied with this explanation. Of course she wouldn't want you around when they discussed Lannister matters.

"And..." She turned slightly, looking up at you through her lashes in a way that made your breath catch in your chest. "Be a good girl, and don't mention this to anyone. It's my business, and I expect you to keep it that way"

"Not a word, Your Grace" Your face began to flush as her long, slender hand grasped your small, common one.

"Not even to The King"

"The King?" You paused, confused why the king would inquire about such a thing in the first place. "Yes, your grace. Not even to the King. I swear it"

Cersei's face softened at this and, to your great shock, raised your hand to her face and allowed it to stroke her cheek gently.

"What would I do without you?" She breathed before letting your hand drop back to your side and turning back around so you could finish combing out her hair.

You carried the high of her touch through the evening and even when she sent you away. You curtisied to Jaime primly before slipping outside back to the wagons.

Aimless, you went to the stables where the horses had been bedded down for the night, glancing into each stall curiously until you found the mare you had ridden earlier.

Her tawny coat had been brushed and her white snout was buried in a pail of oats.

"Hello" you greeted her in a small voice. "I'm sorry about before, it wasn't your fault"

The horse snorted at you in an apathetic manner, flicking the flies off with her tail.

"Don't talk to horses" a gruff voice scolded you from down the stable hall.

You jumped, having believed you were alone, before craning you head to see who spoke.

"Why not?" You eyed The Hound with flushed cheeks, embarrassed to have been caught.

"Because it makes you look mad" he grumbled. "No one wants a mad handmaid"

"Well" you sputtered as he approached you from Stranger's stall, "It wasnt her fault. It was that gelding that kept biting her"

"It wasn't her fault, you're right" he stopped, towering over you like a shadow. "It was your fault"

"What?"

"That mare is the most patient thing in this barn, trained to handle children and unskilled little fools like you." He leaned against the wood of the stall with his arms crossed firmly. "If you'd just kept your calm like any person with half a brain would, she would have listened to you"

"I do so have a brain" You raged. Where did he get off being so disrespectful when all you'd been was polite?

"Doubt it" The hound scoffed "The queen does all your thinking for you, she's got your brain tucked away in all those trunks somewhere."

"Why I-" you gasped "All I have ever done is my very best for Her Grace's comfort and happiness. If My Lady has any issue with the way I serve her, she will not hesitate to let me know"

"I'll bet" a cruel smirk spread across Sandor's face. "And they call me the hound. What a well trained little bitch she has in you."

The slap came on reflex, fueled by indignant rage that fled your body as quickly as it came. The blood drained from your face as the Hound's gaze trained on you with a low growl.

"You get one of those. Only one. Next time you even think about raising hand to me, I'll tear it off and beat you with it"

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes as if bracing for a strike until Clegane let out a slow exhale.

"Run back to your mistress, little girl. And don't let me see your face until morning."

You did exactly that, hovering in the hallway of your lady's room until Ser Jaime slipped out quietly and tried to sneakily return to his own before stopping in his tracks at the sight of you.

You curtisied and kept your head down until your chin was jerked up suddenly, making you flinch. Jaime's eyes studied your face, smoothing his thumb over your cheek to wipe away a stream of tears. You'd been crying and didn't even realize it.

"Do I need to do something about this?" The head of the kingsgaurd asked, knowing you fully got his meaning.

"No" you shook you head and wiped away what was left of your tears with your palm. "No Ser, I am fine. Thank you'

Jaime nodded. "My sister is waiting for you"

"Yes, Ser" you breathed, trying to right yourself before letting your lady see you. "Thank you, Ser"

You watched him go, steadying your breath and wiping your eyes one last time before returning to your post

#game of throne imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane imagine #Jaime Lannister x reader #jaime lannister imagine #Cersei Lannister x fem reader #Her Grace's Handmaiden

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

A/N- Stop this my favorite chapter, and the next one will be so good and full of fluff too.

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff!, talks of birth, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

Hints of smoke filter the room as the candles are brought to life, basking the room and the altar with its yellow dancing hue.

It’s hard, but you manage to get on your knees on the pillow and slowly look up at the portrait of Rhaenar. “Hello my boy,” you whisper as if he were here. “Sorry I didn't come last night, I,” you scoff softly. “Couldn’t stay awake,” you laugh softly and drop your gaze as you clasp your hands together. “I’ve come to update you, all the forests at Storm's End are finally burnt, no tree means no ships. This morning the soldiers managed to completely cut off all food from coming in and out of Storm's End as well. Let’s see how King Gendry handles this problem.”

You sigh deeply and look up at his portrait; the only way you can see his face ever again. “Thanks to the Riverlands alliance and the Reach we’ve managed to reach King’s Landing borders, we have them surrounded. It’s been a short war, but well she hardly has any allies here…she’s just stubborn….” you trail off and groan as a a dull but irritating pain radiates throughout your lower back. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m in good hands here with Jon…I’m grateful he’s with me. He doesn’t leave my side now that the babies are due any week. He…” you swallow thickly and smile softly. “He’s kept my anger in check. Oh! And Helios left now, last night, he’s on his own now. Hopefully, I’ll see him again.”

Your smile then falters and tears fill your eyes, but you hold them back and instead offer him a happy smile. “That’s all for tonight, I’ll return tomorrow. I love you.” You linger in front of the altar for a moment longer before you try and push yourself up. However, the huge belly you now have forbids you proving Jon right; you do need him by your side all the time now.

“Ser Podrick,” you call out to the Knight standing outside the door. “May you come help me up? I believe Jon is right.” You look back and expect the door to open right away, but there’s no sound of metal armor brushing against each other, there’s no hurried footsteps as the kind knight tries to hurry to do as commanded, there’s silence.

“Ser Podrick?” You call out again. You wait, but nothing. “Okay,” you breathe out and now drop your head to try and get up yourself.

It’s a struggle, definitely, but you start to move up to your feet. The door then creaks open and you scoff breathlessly. “I’ve done it, Ser Podrick, no need to help now.” You smirk proudly and peer back, and that’s when you notice that the man hidden under a cloak is not Ser Podrick, or anyone you know; and you know that because you’ve made sure to take in all the faces of the soldiers that fight for you, everyone that lives in this castle and or is temporarily staying. This man is a stranger.

You try to reach for your concealed blade, but the man snatches your wrist and shakes his head. “No,” he says in an accent you’ve only heard across the sea and…with the Unsullied. She sent him.

You try to fight back and use your knee to hit him, but you can’t move your leg that far at the moment, so you instead stumble back and hit the altar. You try to reach for a candle, but then another man barges in and he quickly makes sure to cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that makes you lightheaded for a second, before darkness follows as you fall unconscious.

——

*JON*

The view of the stuffed wolves shifts as it tilts to the side. “Damn,” he hisses under his breath and reaches over to sit it up again and tilt it again so it can stay seated like the other one on the other cradle.

Just now a small package had arrived from Old Town, Sam had sent presents for the unborn twins; two black stuffed wolves. And Jon wanted to surprise you, but there was one defiant stuffed wolf that wouldn't stay up.

“Fuck it,” he gives up and leaves the one wolf on its side. He however does stay in front of the cradles and watches them even if they lay empty for now. A knock albeit then raps on the door, interrupting his quiet moment.

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

The door opens and footsteps walk in past the door, he turns and sees Ser Brienne, and the other six Queensguard Knights and Ser Jaime outside the door with worried expressions that make him falter.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne interjects and averts her gaze. “It’s the Queen…”

His eyes widen and a smile begins to tug on his lips as he thinks that you went into labor.

“….she’s gone,” Ser Brienne finishes, causing Jon’s smile to fall and panic and disbelief to paint over his face—“she was taken. Ser Podrick was put down by some kind of sleeping effect. I’m sorry, I will go on horseback and try to follow the trail of the abductors.”

Jon drops his eyes and stumbles back. “How…how could you let this happen?” He spats. “Why wasn’t there more than one guard with her?!”

“She went to the altar within the castle grounds, we never thought they’d take her from here. I’m sorry.”

Jon exhales and turns around as he shakes his head before he knocks the pitcher of water and cups off the table out of anger for them, your Queensguard, and himself for not disobeying you and staying by your side.

“We think that the abductors were probably undercover, or hiding and preying on the Queen from the shadows.”

Jon scoffs and then abruptly picks up his sword to storm out of the room. “Ser Brienne, you and two others of the Queensgaurd hurry and try to catch up to the abductors trail, two of you can stay with me,” he immediately commands. “Ser Rayne, have the castle locked down, no one leaves or comes in. Wake up the members of the small council have them convene at the hall, rally up the soldiers to get ready to march out.”

“One more thing,” Ser May adds. “There were two soldiers; an Unsullied and what we assume to be one of the Second Sons soldiers caught trying to escape the castle.”

Jon’s eyes snap to the woman knight and the corner of his lips curl. “Where?” He asks.

“We tied them up outside in the courtyard. Your sister, Lady Arya, is watching them.”

Jon nods and quickens his footsteps to head out to the courtyard first.

“If I may,” Ser Jaime cuts in and hurries up to catch up to Jon’s side. “I would like to accompany Ser Brienne and the Queensguard. I owe the Queen my life, let me help.”

Jon looks at Ser Jaime and then glances at his golden hand. The Knight notices and counters.

“I’m not whole, but again, I owe her my life. And…I made her and her father a promise. I might’ve failed before, but I won’t now. I’ll find her, protect her and your children.”

Jon’s hesitant, he only wanted the best after you, but if he wants to go then he can’t stop him. “Fine,” Jon says. “Go.”

Jaime offers Jon a nod before he and the others depart and hurry off to do as said. Once Jon makes it outside, Tyrion joins his side. “If I may—”

“You cannot,” Jon cuts him off. “For all I know you were the one that let in those people that took Y/N. Actually I should have you arrested. Ser Lana, take him to the cells, I’ll think of what will happen after I’ve brought back my wife.”

The Knight right away grabs Tyrion and pins his arms back, but he still manages to cut in with more words that begin to irritate Jon. “It’s smart to lock me up. I don’t have anything to do with it and only just found out as I saw your sister torturing the soldiers, but you won’t get an answer from the unsullied. Nothing will make him talk.”

Jon stops and turns on his heels to talk back. “I don’t need him to talk.” Jon clenches his jaw and gives him his back to continue towards the courtyard.

When he gets there he sees the two men tied back to back, both of them are bleeding but only one of them looks affected by the torture afflicted.

“Have either of them spoke?” Jon asks Arya.

Arya stands up straight and shakes her head. “No. Not yet, but they will.”

Jon shoots a glare at the unsullied. “Only one will,” he deadpans before he snatches the collar of the Unsullied’s chest armor and begins to drag him out towards the gate. “Bring the other one,” he commands Arya.

And without question or hesitation his sister obeys and trusts his actions, letting him feel thankful for that at this very moment.

“<You’ll die screaming in flames,> the Unsullied spats in Valyrian probably thinking that neither Jon or Arya can understand, but thanks to you he was learning and understood every word.

It’s why Jon stops in his tracks and drags the Unsullied around to be able to face him as he counters back venomously. “<After you.> He rolls his eyes ahead and continues to drag the man out, the gates open without him needing to say anything, and there in the darkness that blanketed the hill ahead lands a green beast. Due to the cloudy night he’s not seen, but his thunderous footsteps are heard before his blazing bronze eyes appear ahead, they begin to narrow as he begins to growl.

Jon walks towards Rheagal and leaves the Unsullied soldier there on the ground, before he steps back and clasps his hands in front of him. And without hesitation, remorse or a moment to ask questions, Jon says those menacing words. “<Dracarys>”

Rhaegal breathes out fire over the soldier, swallowing him in flames within seconds. The intense heat hits Jon, but he doesn’t move, he stands in front of the flames and watches the soldier begin to squirm, clench his jaw but eventually scream out when he couldn’t handle the flames eating at his flesh and bones. Jon watches the flesh melt off his bones before nothing is left but black burnt bones.

When all that moves is the flames Jon slowly turns around and faces the other soldier with a burning glower on his face. Rhaegal approaches Jon to be beside him, and growls at the soldier without needing to say anything. And this one soldier, unlike the other one, is visibly shaking, sweat beads roll off his face, and a foul smell begins to come off him as he just keeps his eyes on the dragon beside Jon.

“Please,” the soldier begs under Aryas grip. “Please. Mercy.”

Jon stomps towards the soldier and assures him in an angry filled tone. “My dragon won’t eat you, but only if you tell me where they took my wife.”

The soldier swallows thickly and slowly slides his eyes to Jon. He hesitates for a moment but his fear takes control and he can’t help but betray the Queen he was meant to be fighting for. “Harrenhal, Queen Daenerys asked to bring her to Harrenhal. That’s all I know, I swear, please…mercy. I’ll fight for you.”

Jon lets out a deep breath and without needing to say anything Arya pulls out her dagger and slices the man’s throat, killing him instantly. “Let Rhaegal eat him,” Jon grumbles before he sets towards the great hall.

When he’s inside all the members are already there, most of them are not as collected as usual because of how late it is, but they’re there and all go quiet as Jon strides in with his jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. Arya follows behind with her chin raised high, and they notice you’re not leading the way or behind them, providing even more confusion.

“I know the hour is late, my lords and ladies,” Jon addresses everyone when he’s on the platform facing them. “But a dire situation arose, the Queen, my wife,” he sighs and clenches his fists. “Was abducted.”

Murmurs spread around the room and Sansa gets up from her chair, losing her smile as she thought you were having the babies.

“Queen Daenerys sent some of her men undercover to take her when she was visiting her son's altar,” Jon shares with them. “No one was killed during the act, and the Queensguard did manage to find two who had fallen behind. I killed them already after I got information from one of them. They’re taking her to Harrenhal. ”

“How did they sneak in and not get detected?” Sarella demands to know. “Why did her guards not stop them? That’s why they’re there!”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, “but they couldn’t, or at least that’s to my understanding, Ser Brienne said Ser Podrick was put to sleep that’s how they took her.”

“Where is Ser Brienne?” Elia asks. “And that dwarf? It was probably him, he was probably her spy, that's why they got in without getting noticed.”

The others quietly agree, and Sansa can’t defend him now because she might be right.

“Ser Brienne, and Ser Jaime and three others from the Queensguard went after the abductors. Lord Tyrion was placed under custody by me just now,” Jon shares. “He’ll remain there until after I return with Queen Y/N, after that we will decide what to do. As to how they got in?” He pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I will get her back. Daenerys seems to be getting desperate, she knows she can’t hold Kings Landing without allies, winter is cruel and she can’t feed the people she wants to protect. She’s losing but doesn’t want to fail, it’s probably why she took the Queen, she probably wants us to surrender for her return, and if…y/n gives birth then she’ll use the children as leverage as well. But I won’t give up,” Jon adds and exhales deeply.

“I won’t lose y/ns fight, nor will I lose her, I will bring her back home and we’ll take that throne. Daenerys wants this war to come to an end, so we’ll give her what she wants.” Jon spats menacingly.

“Arya,” he names and the girl straightens up. “Sarella,” he adds, causing her to lift her chin. “Ser Davos, Lord Royce, you will lead the attack on the ground. They may have the numbers, but they’re on our lands, we know our lands, Daenerys doesn’t, we have the advantage. I will ride on Rhaegal and fight Daenerys and Drogon, keep her away from the armies while Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime and the Queensguard find y/n,” he continues, “we will find y/n and bring an end to this war.”

“What about me?” Elia interjects and jumps to her feet. “What will I do? It’s my cousin that they took, my sister, I can help.”

Jon’s gaze drifts to the girl, he knows she’s good on horseback, probably better than he is, but no matter how skilled she is he can’t bring himself to risk her life….and well Sansa does need people here to help her in case Daenerys wants to attack while the armies are marching elsewhere.

“Stay here,” Jon shares with the girl, already noticing her disbelief and annoyance. “Help Sansa keep the castle safe. That’s your job.”

Elia parts her mouth to argue back but Sarella pulls her back and whispers something to her, bringing silence and no other objections.

“Bran, if you can…see where Eraxis is, we might need her in battle,” Jon adds as he steps down the steps. “As for everyone else, fight, win, and don’t die, your Queen depends on it. Now let’s bring Queen Y/N back.”

——

*LATER. YOU*

The sound of booming thunder startles you awake. Is it storming outside?

You slowly sit up, and immediately that daze that took you captive and made you believe you were home disappears as you notice the small stone room you’re in.

That’s right…you were taken by Unsullied, by Daenerys.

Where did they bring you?

The room smells humid, thanks to the light provided by the single dancing flame eating away at the torch, you notice moss growing between the creaks of the wall. There’s only one window, but it’s far too high for you to see through. There’s one tiny bed, and a vase of water on the wooden nightstand, nothing else resides in this room besides that.

What’s her plan with you?

“Hey,” you call out and slide off the bed to stride towards the door. “Hey.”

There’s no answer.

“Hey!” You yell out louder and begin banging at the door. “Where am I? Where’s Daenerys! Tell her to come and stop being a fucking coward!” You pound both fists on the door, but receive no answer, so you turn and glance at the window; it’s far too small for you to escape out of with the belly, even if you didn’t have it, it would still be far too small. But it can give you insight about where you are.

Yet…there’s nothing for you to use to climb on and see through it, damn it!

You turn back around and begin to pound on the door again. “Tell me why I'm here! Bring her!”

Nothing again. You don’t have weapons to use. Damn. So there’s nothing left to go but keep hitting your hand against the door to annoy them and hopefully get an answer. Several minutes pass before finally through the sound of heavy rain multiple footsteps begin to approach the door. You back up expecting them to open the door, but instead the panel from the door's small window opens, and Daenerys' face appears.

“You should be resting,” she says, that’s the first thing she tells you after what she did—“it’s not safe for the babies—”

“You should let me out,” you cut her spitefully. “Or come in here. Let's see how good it goes for you.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’m no fool, I know that the moment I walk in there you’ll try and kill me, as you know I have someone I have to protect now too.”

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

“You won’t be hurt,” she adds. “But you won’t be let out either.”

“Jon will come,” you sneer. “He’ll get me out.”

A sly smirk tugs on her face before she retorts. “I’m counting on it, but you can save him from the fate that he'll meet today. Bend the knee, you’ll be pardoned and get to live your life with your children wherever you want. Don’t, and lose him and all those that come after you.”

You swallow thickly and rather than seeming upset, defeated and give into submission, you lean forward and hold her gaze with a burning glare; even if inside your heart was beginning to tear at the thought of losing the one person that mattered to you now, the only person keeping you together, Jon.

“Kill him,” you snarl. “And I will kill you after I carve out that damn baby out of your stomach.”

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

“Ask me,” you retort with a mischievous smirk even if you begin to feel a sharp cramp on your lower stomach. “Ask me how it is that you were able to get pregnant.”

Daenerys stiffens and her jaw clenches. She doesn’t reply so you continue.

“It was me. I was the one that reversed that witches spell. You should be on your knees thanking me you fucking bitch. Now, ask me why I did it.” You snicker.

Daenerys lifts her chin and looks at you with a gaze full of tears. She backs away and the panel then closes, blocking out the view of her tear covered eyes.

So she has you here as a trap to lure Jon and everyone else here? She wants to kill Jon now too?

No…not him. Anyone but him. If he dies…what else is there? What—

Again there’s a sharp cramp on your lower stomach and back. This was a lot more painful, it rattles your entire being.

The babies?

You twist around and look around panicked, no ounce of anger lingering behind, no hate for Daenerys, nothing but worry. Thunder claps in the sky, causing your shoulders to jump and more pain to attack your body.

But you’re here, stuck in a cell without Jon, they can’t come yet. Not yet. You’re all alone here, without even your dragon to keep you company. They can’t come yet—

More pain hits you and this time water pours out of you and runs down your legs and hits the stone floor. “No,” you murmur with tears in your eyes. “No. Not yet, please.”

Yet you have no word on the matter, they’re coming fast.

You try to lay on the bed, but the pain becomes insufferable, it makes you restless and doesn’t let you keep quiet anymore, you begin to grunt, groan and cry out as the first baby begins to come out fast. It’s not like before either; and maybe it’s due to the fact that you had your sisters, midwives and maesters with you, but this time the pain of labor is worse.

So much so that without you knowing Eraxis even feels the suffering you’re under, unbeknownst to you Jon had come across her on his way to you and he heard Eraxis cry erupt in the sky. He however doesn’t know why she screeches, he thinks it’s because she knows you’re missing. She might miss you, that’s what he thinks.

But no, you were under withering pain, covered in sweat and squatting on the ground.

“Come on!” You bellow out and then cry. “Get out!”

Thunder keeps erupting in the skies, sometimes it drowns out your cries, but sometimes it seems you’re louder.

A few minutes, or hours later who knows, just as Thunder roars in the sky, out slides the first baby after your last push.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and shakily lift the baby up in your arms, noticing that the first one out is Rhaenyra. She’s so tiny, so red and beautiful.

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

However, he cried right away, Rhaenyra doesn’t. She stays quiet and you can’t help but grow concerned.

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

And as if understanding her name at that second she then breaks out crying, she begins to squirm in your hands, and squints her swollen eyes.

“Hi,” you muse and press your forehead against hers very gently. “Hi my love. Hi Rhaenyra, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” You smile, but it’s only for a second because more pain then overwhelms you as the other baby follows to come out.

You try to be quiet so as to not startle Rhaenyra, but you can’t keep quiet, you cry out as you push. You place Rhaenyra down on the skirt of your dress and claw your nails on the floor as you keep pushing.

Thankfully the second baby comes out faster, and this one uses his new fresh pair lungs to cry out the moment they’re out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper and lift up the second baby, noticing that it’s a boy. The second one is a beautiful baby boy. “Hello my sweetling.” You cry out happily as you pull him towards you to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hello my love.”

You then proceed to put him down next to his sister, and rapidly yank off your necklace to wrap the chain around the umbilical cords to cut them off. Once that’s done you pull the thin blanket off the bed to wrap them up and keep them warm, before you pick up the both of them and cradle them in your arms with a wobbly grin, and tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know, I know, your father isn’t here, but you’ll meet him soon, he’s going to be so happy. He’s so excited to meet the both of you.” You smile and watch them both calm down as they hear you talking to them. “Does it sound scary outside? Yeah that’s thunder, but it’s okay, you know my uncle Oberyn, your uncle, said that being born during a storm is a sign of good luck, a good omen, you my babies will have a good and exciting life.” You grin and watch the baby boy watch you with eyes as dark as Jon are. “But as for now it’ll go away.”

You then reach for the boy's hand, and he doesn't fail to wrap his little hand around your finger. “I’m sorry,” you direct at him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a name yet, your father…hasn’t decided. He’s too nervous about it.” You laugh softly. “You look like him,” you whisper. “Same dark eyes, same dark hair.”

The afterbirth comes out but you pay no mind to it, you’re too busy admiring the babies. “You, my lovely girl, have his eyes too, they’re so beautiful and dark.” Her hair albeit wasn’t the same color as Jon’s and her twin brothers, she doesn’t have a lot yet, but from what you can see, you can tell her hairs are silver-white just like yours, and your fathers.

She has Jon’s eyes though, they both do. Thank the gods they do. It’s like having him with you.

“There’s so many people happy to meet you.” You continue talking to them, unable to help your smile as they both watch you as if they’re hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“When we get home you’ll also meet your cradle mates, the dragon eggs your big brother Rhaenar picked out for you.” You let out a shaky breath as tears threaten to come out, but you hold them in. “You’ll meet Eraxis and Rhaegal too. You’ll fly soon as well, I promise.” You muster a smile and can’t help but caress their little cheeks.

They keep watching you, they bore their deep and dark eyes in you, and they’re all you can watch too. That is until the door opens and Greyworm walks in with a stoic face.

“Get out,” you grumble.

He however ignores you and approaches you. He crouches down and takes them, he takes the babies from your arms.

“No,” you sneer and try and push yourself up. “No! Give them back to me!”

The babies notice the stranger holding them, they don’t feel your warmth anymore and cry out. And that only makes you panic more, and triggers an adrenaline rush that lets you stand on your feet.

“Give me back my babies!” You bellow out as Greyworm only gets further away. “Greyworm!” You reach out for him, but the door then slams shut behind him and your babies. All you’re left to do is once again pound on the door and cry out, but this time with more desperation, this time with fuming anger, and thick tears.

You hit and hit the door over and over again until your hands are bloody and bruised. Eventually though the adrenaline runs its course and exhaustion overruns your body, leaving you stranded against the door and battling sleep.

The thunder had seemed to stop too, which is good, the twins are probably scared. Without the thunder however the cell was quiet, and it’s dangerous because it tempts you to sleep.

But you can’t fall asleep, you need to stay awake and keep trying to get that door open. You need to rescue your babies, they need you….

But this exhaustion is like a weight, it keeps pressing and pressing down. It dulls your senses, making your vision blur as your eyelids begin to droop, your hearing begins to tune out, causing you to ignore the rattling that shook the fragile castle and the hundreds of footsteps outside of the castle that sounded like more thunder. Your mind begins to go quiet as well as it dangles between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Grunting and groaning, metal clashing against each other begins to sound outside the door, but it seems distant so you ignore it and can’t help but rest your eyes.

Just for a second…

Alas, only a few minutes before the door gets pushed open, hitting your back and causing you to snap your eyes open.

The door gets pushed again, so you quickly drag yourself to the side and have no choice but to wait for the visitor that slowly creeps inside.

There’s no kind of weapon around you, so you hide in the corner of the cell and hold your breath so as to not be heard. A foot steps inside first before the door gets pushed open more, you then turn your head away and clench your jaw.

Yet just as the person peeks their head inside you quickly recognize the head of dirty blond hair. “Ser Jaime?” You breathe out, causing his head to snap to the side where you sit.

He gasps as his eyes widen with shock at the sight of your withered body.

“Your Grace,” he mutters before he rushes inside. And as he does come to you, you notice blood dripping down his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” you point out and stay pressed against the wall.

He shakes his head and crouches down, letting you see him twist his face as pain strikes from his leg. “Don’t worry about me, let’s get you up and out of here. You need to see a maester.”

You let him help you up but shake your head. “No…no, the baby’s,” you whisper and grab his arms to meet his gaze with tears clouding your eyes. “Greyworm took them.”

Jaime shakes his head again. “You’re in no condition to chase after anyone, let Jon do it, or Ser Brienne.”

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

“Don’t you hear it?” He says and glances back. “He’s fighting the Queen to get you back.”

You shake your head. “She’ll kill him, she wanted to drag him out—”

“Don’t worry,” he cuts you off. “He’s not alone, he’s brought a whole army with him. I’ve never seen someone determined to get someone back...I envy it.”

The corner of your lips pull to a small smile at the thought of Jon coming after you, at the thought of him fighting for you, but the longer you stay here, the longer you’re apart from them.

“Then he can fight Daenerys,” you retort and pull away from him. “I’ll go after Greyworm and rescue my children. You shouldn’t doubt my determination, Ser Jaime.” You scoff as you begin to walk out of the room, feeling the exhaustion get pushed back as determination and fury replaces it for now.

“You are very stubborn,” Jaime throws out at you as he walks out after you.

However, before you can make it far you stop as you see the bloody bodies of Unsullied soldiers laid on the ground. You don’t feel bad, you’re just impressed that a man with one hand did all this.

“I’m impressed,” you tell the man and bend down to pick up a spear off the ground. “You did well.”

Jaime scoffs. “Not well enough…” he trails off and you glance at his bleeding leg.

“Let me have a—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Later. Right now tell me where we’re going. Do you know where Greyworm is taking your kids?”

You drop your gaze and search the ground as you think. “I,” you mutter and blink repeatedly.

Luckily you don’t linger too much in thought because it hits you quickly—There was a battle here now, Daenerys was here to lure you and Jon out so you can bend the knee. If you refused then her plan was taking the babies and forcing you to your knees. So they won’t be here, not so close…

“Kings Landing,” you throw out. “We may have them surrounded, but they can still go in and out, that’s where he’s going.”

Jaime doesn’t question you and nods, letting you add one more thing before you leave. “Thank you, ser Jaime. I owe you my life.”

Jaime shakes his head. “No you don’t. Now come on, my horse isn’t far from here.” He proceeds to grab your arm and begins to lead you out of the castle, and the closer you get outside the more you hear the sound of battle cries, shouts of pain, and clashing metal.

Yet the noise doesn’t compare to what plays in the sky. When you get out of the cover of the ruined castle, there up above rages a beautiful battle between dragons. Their fires light the sky like if thunder and lightning played within the clouds, as if the sun was out hiding within the thick stormy and smoke clouds. It was captivating.

“Here,” Ser Jaime snaps you from your stupor and pulls you to a brown horse. “Can you ride?”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes.” Your body fucking hurts, but fuck it.

Ser Jaime helps you mount the horse before he struggles to get on his. Eventually when you make it out on the dirt road, the sound of the battle on the ground grows quieter the further you get, but the sound of the dragons fighting does grow quieter, it doesn’t fade in the distance, their screeches and roars are still heard clearly miles away.

You look up and you can still see them battling, and you also catch someone else beside Rhaegal and Drogon in the sky. You hadn’t heard her at first, it didn’t seem like she was with them either when you first got out of the castle, but you see her now hidden between the clouds. And then she isn’t there.

The fire Drogon blasted out extinguishes, hiding the view of your white scaled dragon. It makes you slow down your horse to watch what comes next as your fascination grows.

However the darkness lingers, letting you not see a thing. You can only hear the sound of Eraxis screech before seconds later it seems that Rheagal blasts out fire next, letting you see Eraxis jaw clamped on Drogon’s neck, and her claws digging in his wing, causing them both to begin twirling down to the ground.

It was awestrucking, but…why was Eraxis there and not searching for you? It’s not like she would pay much mind to the battle without you there to tell her. There was also this anger within her, it was strange and new, it was almost like she was possessed.

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

Nevertheless, you nudge the horse to pick up its speed once again, letting you catch up to Ser Jaime before there’s a loud thud that shakes the ground.

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

You peer back and smirk softly. “The dragons.”

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

“Rhaenyra…and undecided. Jon hasn’t chosen a name.”

“Rhaenyra.” He nods softly. “It's a good name for a Queen.”

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

“We’ll save your kids. If that’s the last thing I do,” he assures you, making you pull your gaze away from the dirt road below the green hill you wait on.

“Thank you,” is all you can say again.

Ever since he gave you his word he’s nothing but loyal. It’s more than what you deserve.

“There,” Jaime breaks the short silence and points. You follow his finger and catch a single carriage approaching rapidly. Since it’s dark you don’t see the rider right away, you have to nudge the horse to take a step forward, that’s when you gasp as you catch Greyworm at the front, leading the horse.

“All right, I’ll block him off at the front and you sneak behind him when we begin to fight,” Jaime explains. “As soon as you get those babies, you run out of here and meet Ser Brienne, she’ll be at the south side of the castle. Don’t linger behind, just take them. Understand?”

And leave him to die? He’s not the warrior he once was, it will be like easy practice to Greyworm. Jaime will die.

“I can’t leave you to die!” You snap out with concern.

Jaime meets your gaze and shakes his head. “I’ve told you already, I owe you, don’t worry about me.”

You draw in a deep breath, and just as you’re going to argue, he nudges his horse to run down the hill as Greyworm gets closer. You wait a little longer and just watch Jaime get further down the green hill until he eventually runs out onto the road and blocks the carriage's way, causing Greyworm to come to an immediate halt.

They share a few words from what you can tell, but you’re too far to hear. They actually take a while talking, it begins to make you desperate to reach your babies, but you have to wait until the weapons are drawn.

They better be in there though.

You draw out a deep breath and clench your jaw as you watch them through the darkness the stormy clouds cast. It’s not until a few minutes later that finally Ser Jaime draws out his long Valyrian steel sword that you finally can run down.

The sound of his weapon clashing against Greyworms makes you want to help, but you force yourself to just stop behind the carriage. You don’t look at the battle going on ahead, you try and block out the sound and quickly slide off your horse, causing more pain on your lower body. You then proceed to run to the back of the carriage and throw the doors open, but gasp in surprise as you see two Unsullied soldiers sitting there at both sides of a wooden cradle.

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

You meet his black eyes and counter. “<It's Queen now. Let me take them and I’ll spare your lives.>”

The one on the right laughs and then shakes his head. “<We can’t kill you, but you won’t get these babies if you don’t bend the knee to the true Queen.>”

You reach back for your spear and get ready to talk back, but suddenly one Unsullied soldier jumps out of his seat and throws himself on you, making you fall back on the dirt ground harshly.

You let out a groan, but have no time to dwindle in your new pain because he then presses the stick part of his spear against your throat, cutting off your air circulation, and dulling your other senses.

You try to press back, but he’s stronger right now, he’s angry too, adding to his strength. It seems like he's going to best you, but you manage to slip your hand off his spear and instead throw your hand up and stab your fingers in his eye.

The Unsullied soldier doesn't make any noise, but he throws his head back and stays on top of you, adding more weight on your body as he sits down to grab at his wounded eye.

The other Unsullied peeks his head out and notices his injured companion and throws out a curse before he reaches back for his spear. Fuck.

He can’t join this damn fight or you’ll never win. Fuck. Okay.

You look at your side to search for your weapon, but find it too far out of reach. The weapon of the man you just fought is at your feet and he’s sitting on your legs, so you can’t get it. Fuck!

Okay….

Out of desperation to reach your newborn children, you pump yourself with as much fury and adrenaline as you can muster and throw your upper body up to sink your teeth on the soldier's throat. The soldier stiffens, and just as he tries to claw at you, you pull back and yank off a part of his throat with your teeth, causing the other soldier to suddenly stiffen in surprise.

You use that though and push the now dead man off your body to swipe his spear off the floor. You then quickly hurl it at the second soldier’s chest still on the carriage.

Now that they’re both dealt with you push yourself off the ground and stumble towards the carriage. You still hear Greyworm and Jaime fighting ahead, which is impressive that the one handed soldier is holding out so long, but you can’t stop, he told you not to, so you keep ignoring it and climb onto the back that now holds the wooden cradle.

“Rhaenyra. My love,” you mutter out and don’t care about your appearance, or that you’re hurt, you reach them and look in, seeing both of them there, sleeping peacefully as if nothing is happening around them. “I’m here,” you assure them even if they’re sleeping. “I’m here,” you smile. You reach down to pick them up, but just as you do you catch a glimpse of the fight happening ahead, and see Greyworm stab his spear through Jaime’s stomach with a violent blow that knocks the one handed knight right off his feet.

You’re told not to, you’re supposed to just take the twins and leave, but he’s sacrificed so much, he’s been kind and loyal, he’s been a friend surprisingly enough, you can’t help your heart from sinking and your feet from taking you to him bleeding out on the ground.

“Ser Jaime,” you whisper and cradle his face to turn it towards you. “I can still help you. Just…don’t take the blade off.”

The man swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No,” he grunts. “No...Princess,” he mutters. “My time here is done. I…tried to keep my promise now. Just go.”

Tears wells your eyes and you regardlessly press on his wound to stop the blood from trickling down. “No…you have to see your brother. He’ll be waiting. You have to live and…and still watch over me. That’s an order.”

He scoffs and then coughs out blood. “Tell my brother…” he trails off and continues to cough out more blood, darker this time. “Tell him that I love him…that no matter what I will always look out for him.”

You nod even if you don’t want to accept his death.

“And you…” he continues and cups your hand with his gloved one. “It was an honor serving you…Queen. Your mother would be proud…of the women you are…don’t let her down okay? I’m sorry…I couldn’t protect her, or you. I’m sorry.”

You whimper and shake your head. “I forgive you. It’s thanks to you that I found my children. You did good…it was an honor having you as my protector.”

The corner of his lips tug up slightly, causing blood to begin trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His breaths begin to go ragged, and his hand falls off your hand and lands on his sword's handle. He then drifts his eyes to it and then points his eyes behind you.

You’re confused at first, but you blink and peer back, understanding now that he’s pointing at Greyworm. He’s telling you to kill him.

Greyworm was kind to Rhaenar without question, he was kind to you. But he ripped your newborn babies out of your arms and took them, he’s not on your side anymore, he’s just another enemy. A causality, and Daenerys only friend now. It’s a message to her from you.

That makes killing him much easier.

Albeit, just as you’re going to reach over for the sword, Greyworm comes over and pulls his spear out of Jaime’s stomach, causing blood to pour out of the wound and only pushing Jaime closer to death. And fueling your anger.

So just as Greyworm is walking back to the carriage you reach over for Ser Jaime’s Valyrian steel sword and clutch it in your hands.

Now usually you prefer spears, they’re lighter, easier to use, but your spear is too far away and well, this blade is better than Greyworm’s spear. It’s actually a lot lighter than you expected Valyrian steel to be too.

“Why do you mourn for a man who stabbed your grandfather in the back, and chose his own reputation over being loyal to you?” Greyworm spats out.

You exhale through your nose and slowly push up the sword from the ground. “That man was no grandfather of mine,” you counter spitefully. “I’m glad that he got stabbed in the back, he deserved far worse. But perhaps I’ll save that for Daenerys.” You snicker.

Greyworm spins around and growls out of anger, only making you smirk as you meet his gaze with a taunting glare.

“I won’t fight you,” Greyworm quickly tells you without letting his anger get the best of him. “It won’t be a fair fight, and the Queen wants you alive.”

You lose your taunting look, and slowly begin to scowl at the man as you remain on your knees with the swords tip nailed against the ground, and the handle in your hand. The blood that was drying on your lips and chin only made your look more intimidating, but he still doesn’t flinch.

“Then you’re a coward,” you spat back. “It’s fine, it'll make this fight easier.” You breathe out and slowly begin to use the sword's weight to push yourself up to your feet.

Greyworm remains collected and actually throws his spear at your feet. You glance at it and sigh deeply in annoyance before you meet his gaze and kick the spear at him. You then raise your chin and point at him as you shift your feet to get in a battle ready stance.

Before he can once again turn you down you charge at him and swing the sword. Greyworm quickly blocks your attack with his blade and then manages to push you back. He then doesn’t falter or turn away, he swings at your stomach, but you slide back. He then counters with another swing, but you throw your head back and avoid the blade.

You proceed to swing at his legs, but he shuffles back and thrashes his arm to the side, letting you quickly throw your arms up and clash the blade against his. You proceed to meet his gaze and shoot him a smirk before you lift your leg and shove him back. You don’t lose your momentum and use all your strength to swing the blade across his chest.

Greyworm however catches your attempts and tries to block them, but in doing so he fails to clash the blade against yours, causing the Valyrian steel sword to cut his wooden spear in half and the tip to cut his cheek.

You’re shocked by your actions, but can’t help but smirk proudly. Whilst Greyworm touches his cut and looks at the coat of blood that stains his fingers, he then blinks and knits his eyebrows together as he looks up at you in surprise.

“<Lucky you,” you throw at him in high Valyrian as you begin to walk back. “You’ll meet your gods today.>” Once you reach the spot where you had fought the other soldiers, you pick up your spear and throw at his feet. “<Lets end this.>” You sneer and twist your blade around your hand.

A faint smirk appears on Greyworms lips before he picks up the spear and lunges forward and swings down. You quickly jump back to avoid being hit, and then counterattack. Greyworm albeit blocks your action and pushes you back.

“<Your ancestor should be proud,” Greyworm throws out in Valyrian as he spins the spear in his hand. “You’ve learned well. You make a mighty warrior.>

You huff out, and then charge at him. Just as you get close you jump off your feet and throw the sword down. Greyworm nevertheless avoids the blade and quickly counters by lunging the spear at your side.

Luckily you twist your body and miss being hit, and before he can pull back you turn your hand around and capture his handle.

Greyworm’s eyes snap at you in surprise, you shoot him a smirk and try to stab him, but he’s stronger than you now so he manages to yank the spear out of your hold.

And just as he steps back suddenly his body jerks up, and he lets out a groan. You falter and watch him in confusion, however you then see the cause of this sudden halt when you notice Ser Jaime on his knees behind Greyworm, and with Greyworm’s own broken spear stabbed through his own back.

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

So before Greyworm can react, you use both hands to hold the sword and charge at him. You lift the sword in your hand as you approach him, and the moment you get close enough you open your mouth to let out a mighty battle cry as you swing the sword across Greyworm’s neck. And since the blade is sharp and made out of the toughest steel, the blade cuts clean across, cutting his head right off his shoulders. Ending this battle, and causing Jaime to fall back.

You first make sure no one is approaching before you run to Jaime and cup his cheek. “Thank you, Ser Jaime,” you mumble. “You did well.”

Jaime’s eyes begin to flutter close, and his breath begins to slow down. He musters enough strength to grab your hand and add one more thing. “Thank you...” he trails off and his eyes close, his chest rises once more as he takes his final breath, and then it sinks for the last time.

——

*LATER*

The air wasn’t filled with battle cries anymore, there’s no cries of pain, or metal slinging. There’s no fire brightening up the sky red, there’s no dragons flying either. It’s not quiet or calm, but it seems that the battle had come to an end. Actually the castle people say is cursed doesn’t stand as tall as it once did moments ago, there are towers that are missing, walls are gone and turned to rubble and debris.

Where once stood a haunted mighty castle now remains crushed walls, and smoke.

It’s sort of fascinating, in a weird and creepy way.

“Halt right there!”

You rip your eyes away from the ruined castle and see Ser Brienne, Ser May and Ser Marizelizabeth come out of hiding from behind rubble to point their weapons at you.

“It’s okay—”

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne cuts you off right away and doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knee.

“Queen,” The others mutter and mirror their commander's action.

You bring the carriage to halt and offer them a nod. “At ease.”

However, neither of them rise.

“Forgive me your Grace,” Ser Brienne shares with her eyes on the ground. “I failed to keep you safe, they took you because of my incompetence. I understand if you want to remove me from my rank.”

You slide off the carriage and approach Ser Brienne. “It was not your fault. It was no one’s fault,” you assure her and touch her shoulder. “No one could have known. So please don’t blame yourselves, that’s an order.”

The three of them look at you, and Ser Brienne hesitates, but it was an order so she listens and doesn’t press on the matter, instead she and the others stand up and examine you.

“Ser May,” Ser Brienne orders over her shoulder after she caught the blood on your face and on your gown. “Fetch the maester.”

“Wait,” you call out before she can run off. “While you do fetch Jon too. I have something I need to show him.” You smile, but it falters. “He is fine right?”

Brienne nods. “Worried,” she assures you. “That’s all.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod with a happy grin painted on your face. “Good. Go then.”

Ser May runs off to go as she’s told, letting you now address the problems. “Catch me up,” you direct at the pair of knights as you turn to head to the back of the carriage.

“King Jon,” Ser Brienne doesn’t falter. “He came with an army of men when he heard of your disappearance. While Arya, Sarella, Ser Davos and Lord Royce led the battle on the ground, Jon fought Daenerys in the sky.”

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

“The battle didn’t last long,” she continues. “We lost some warriors, but they lost more.”

“Good,” you comment.

“It seems Daenerys was injured in battle after her dragon fell from the sky. That’s when the battle on the ground ended because her men retreated. Albeit not before Drogon lay waste on the castle.”

She was injured?

You swallow thickly and find yourself lost between feeling guilt and pride.

“Her dragon was hurt too, badly may I add,” Brienne adds, but you knew that, you saw that as you were chasing after Greyworm—“when they were retreating, King Jon, and your dragon….burned probably a third of her army.”

You blink in surprise and look over at her to share your disbelief. You don’t say anything, you’re just shocked he’d do something like that, especially that Eraxis would dare do something like that without your command.

“Is that all?” You probe and grab the door handles.

Ser Brienne nods, letting you sigh and look at the doors with a faint smile. “Ser Marielizabeth, if you may. May you please ride to the gates of Kings landing and…” you trail off to open the doors and pick up the sack that held Greyworm’s head. “Leave this at the gates for Daenerys,” you continue. “Make sure she gets it and then ride back to Sunspear.”

“Sunspear?” She queries.

You meet her gaze and nod. “Aye. A third of her army is gone, her Master of War is dead, she and her dragon are injured, we can’t return to Winterfell now that we have the advantage. We have to remain close to attack soon and end this war.” You grab the sack and give it to your knight. “Take care, alright?”

She nods and turns away to go get ready, letting you face Ser Brienne with a frown as you see her studying the body covered with a tarp.

“Ser Brienne,” you mutter and grab her hand. “I'm sorry. Ser Jaime….he…He’s passed.”

The tall woman knight drops her head and blinks repeatedly as you know grief and disbelief strikes her heart. She keeps her hand in your grasp and just swallows thickly before meeting your gaze with red eyes as she fought the need to cry.

“It would please me if you took his body and sword to his brother, you can grieve him as you please, and then go to Sunspear with the Hand.”

Brienne shakes her head. “No,” she argues. “I need to stay by your side, protect you. I can’t go, I’ll have someone else go. I can grieve him alone. By your side.”

You draw in a deep breath and hold her gaze for a second as you debate arguing with her. But it is her choice so you sigh and nod. “As you please. Have three Knights of the Queens guard take the body and sword so they can return with Lady Sansa.”

“Y/N?!” Your name is called out as you finish giving Ser Brienne an order, and when you snap your eyes past her body you spot Jon; his face is caked in blood, and his hair is down, he looks exhausted, but he’s a relief to see, he’s the very sun missing from the sky today.

“Jon,” you call out and break away from your spot to run to him.

Said man instantly meets you halfway without a fault and captures you an embrace. “Oh my love,” he whispers. “I was so worried,” he whispers as he holds the back of your head and hugs you tighter.

You laugh softly out of exciment, and pull back to kiss him over the dry blood. He deepens the kiss, and you linger in his taste for a moment before you pull back and grab his chin to study his face for any injuries.

“It’s not my blood,” he assures you and grabs your chin too as he sees the dry blood stained over your lips and chin.

“Not mine,” you mirror.

“Good,” he says and reaches for your belly that hasn’t gone down, but you grab his hand and grin at him. “Come with me. I need to introduce you to a pair of twins.”

Jon’s face quickly twists in confusion, but before he can ask, you pull him to the back of the carriage, and then inside where the cradle is. He’s hesitant to approach, he still looks puzzled, so you beam brighter and reach down to pick them up.

“Jon,” you whisper since Rhaenyra remains asleep, “meet Rhaenyra and your son.” You turn around to show them off, noticing that his eyes are locked on Rhaenyra fast asleep and the boy watching you. He looks surprised, but that slowly falls as the boy begins to complain and squirm.

Jon then approaches you and pulls the sheet down to see their faces.

“They’re okay,” you assure him. “Healthy. They’ve just lived an adventure now. Isn’t that right?” You ask the baby boy. “But you’re here now. With your mother and father.” You peek over at Jon and see that he carries a soft smile that matches his softened eyes that are welled with tears.

“May I hold them?” He asks and meets your gaze.

You giggle and nod. “Of course, my love. Here,” you whisper and carefully hand the twins to him.

Just as you’re going to pull your arms away, Jon stops you. “Wait, I don’t want to drop ‘em. Just—”

“Jon,” you cut him off softly. “It’s okay. You won’t. You won’t.” You very slowly pull your hands away, but keep them close for a second to let him know that he was okay. That they won’t just fall from his hands. “See. It’s okay.”

Jon scoffs, and then looks down at the twins with a lovestruck gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother when you were born. I’m sorry. I’m here now though, I’m never letting you leave my sight.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze with tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’re so beautiful. Rhaenrya, she has your hair.”

You nod and then rest your chin on his shoulder as you watch him with awe. “They both have your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your forehead. “You did good, my brave girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Forgive me.”

You shake your head, “there’s nothing to forgive, it’s not your fault. They’re here now, alive and healthy, that's all that matters.”

Jon licks his lips to get ready to argue, but then his name and yours is called out. “Jon? Y/N?!”

It’s Arya. Her footsteps race around the carriage, but once she reaches the back and sees Jon holding two bundles she stiffens and gasps.

Jon and you share a happy look before he motions her to come in. She hesitates but then jumps in and meets her niece and nephew.

“Look at them,” she whispers with awe as she reaches her finger for the boy's hand. “Hi. I’m Arya, your—” she cuts herself off and gasps as the baby boy holds her finger. “I’m your aunt,” she continues with a beaming smile. “Your best aunt.”

Jon laughs softly, and then shares a passing look with you before he looks at the twins and parts his lips to whisper. “Arya, meet Rhaenyra and Robb.” He smiles softly.

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #jon snow x you #Jon snow fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #got #got fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #Greyworm #tyrion lannister #jaime lannister #ser brienne #sansa stark #arya strak

[myradiantraven-blog]

SUMMARY– Robb Stark is born a girl. Raised as her father's heir, Rosarra Stark is reluctantly married to Jaime Lannister after her brother Bran's birth. Though born a woman and wed to House Lannister, Rosarra wages war against her husband's house to free her father. In the War of the Four Kings, the Young Wolf still rises.

PAIRING(S)– Jaime/Fem!Robb; Jaime/OC.

WARNINGS– Violent situations, sexual situations, character death, incest, infidelity underage.

FACECLAIM– Alicia von Rittberg as Rosarra Stark/fem!Robb

Read here on fanfiction.net

#gameofthrones #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #jaime x oc #jaime x reader #jaime lannister #house of the dragon #ocappreciation #a song of ice and fire #robb stark #fem!robb stark #jaime x robb #my oc #writing #got fanfiction #gotjaimelannister

[countrymusiclover]

#georgie cooper x reader #jaime lannister x reader #ouat rumplestilskin #ouat rumple #ouat rumplestilskin x reader #rumple x reader #rumplestilskin x reader #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton x fem!reader #kayce dutton #tony stark fic #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader fluff #tony stark imagine #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x reader fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x forbes reader #klaus mikaelson x reader fluff #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fic

[ransprang]

Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader Hcs

Fueling my Nikolaj and GOT brainrot~ enjoy

NSFW and SFW -

1. Man protects you like a dawg. He will not have anyone touch you or get too close without drawing his sword the second they take a step closer (Not even your parents).

2. Jaime loves having sex the second you both are alone, he just can’t help it. A quickie in the meeting room, in his chamber, after shower. He loves it when he stands tall and you’re on your knees sucking him off as a to thank him for protecting you.

3. Jaime loves carrying you over his shoulder. He’s strong, and you’re his. In the palace he will subtly tease you by carrying you over his shoulder to your room.

4. Jaime loves restraining you, he will tackle you down, pinning your hands above your head. He likes to be in charge, and fuck you to relieve his stress from the long day of managing Cersei.

5. Jaime would like to have children with you, and possibly favour them over Joffrey. As they are his to claim to the public, and he can love them freely also protect and raise them.

6. Jaime likes being just a boy around you. No pressures to fight or decisions. He likes teasing, making jokes and possibly be obsessed with building blocks which makes you look at him sometimes think, how at the core hes just. a. guy.

7. When you watch him fight or be an exceptional swordsman you want him to fight you similarly but in the bedroom, without his clothes on and definitely with a different sword of his. You could testify Jaime was skilled with his other not so miniature sword as well.

8. Cersei would love bullying you, in order to push you away from her beloved brother. Jaime wouldnt never rage at her, but would protect you from all her evil schemes and will never let anyone or anything harm you. They will have to face him before you.

9. Jaime takes off his metal hand and stares at where his wrist used to be sometimes, but he will only show such level of sadness and vulnerability in front of you.

10. Jaime loves pounding you with your legs over his shoulders, he loves to watch your breasts bounce bringing him closer to the edge faster.

Your twin,

Admin Sav

#jaime lannister x you #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x y/n #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister fanfiction #jamie lannister #jamie lannister x reader #jamie lannister x you #jamie lannister x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #jaime oneshot #a song of ice and fire #george martin #aerys targaryen

[chloe-skywalker]

For You - Robb Stark

Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister

Warnings: GOT, incest mentioned

Word count: 718

Summary: Y/n’s uncle has been captured in the war between her blood family and her family by law. The one person that really cared about her growing up. Will her husband kill the one person closest to his wife?

Authors Note: I know Jaime did a lot of crap to the Starks but I like this story and I’m not sorry. 

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Robb stood there in their shared tent staring at his wife. He knew she was hurting but was bottling it up. She didn’t want to look weak or like a traitor to their men but Robb knew it wasn’t healthy. He could see it taking a toll on her and that was starting to hurt him as well. Once the last person had left the tent and they were alone Robb decided it was time to talk about it. “I am sorry my love.”

“For what your Grace?” Y/n asked confused on what he had to be sorry for.

“I know it hurts you to see him typed up out there.” Robb stated, cutting straight to the chase but still wanting to be considerate of her feelings.

It was silent for a few minutes. Y/n had a feeling that he had been wanting to bring this up for awhile. But Y/n didn’t know how exactly to explain how she felt about the situation.

“He is my uncle. He’s the only person that’s always been there for me and supported all my decisions.” Y/n couldn’t even begin to explain all that Jaime had done for her in her life. “My father could give a crap about us kids and my mother only cares about power. Jaime, he actually cares.”

Robb had seen first hand when they visited Winterfell how her parents were. And he saw how close she was with her Kingsgaurd uncle. “I’m sorry.”

Robb knew they had good parents growing up, one’s that cared. His wife didn’t have that.

“And if the rumors are true than I guess, he’s my blood father.” Y/n feared  saying it out loud. Not anything against her ‘Uncle’, but the fact why would anyone want to be around or love the child of incest. She had a hard enough time finding love  just having Lannister blood run through her veins. “That makes me someone you shouldn’t be with.”

Y/n dropped her head trying to hide her tears and defeated expression. She had truly come to fall in love with her husband and now because of her family's mistakes she could lose him.

Robb rushed over to her cupping her cheeks and pulled her inot a passionate kiss. “I love you, I do not care about who your parents are. My love for you will never change. That I promise.”

Y/n gave him a watery smile. “I love you to my wolf.”

“I won’t kill him.” Robb spoke up after some time.

Y/n pulled back to look at her husband, giving him a sad but appreciative smile. The fact that he wants to spare Jaime for her is heartwarming, but she knew he couldn't. “You can’t promise me  that. As much as you’d like to, you can’t. If your men-”

“Fuck what my men want.” He cut her off. He was King of the North now he could do what he wanted.

“He injured your father.” Y/n continued back with sad eyes.

“He’s not the one that killed him.” Robb pulled her closer by the hips. Yes she had a point with both things. But so did he.

“I’m sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Robb cut her off again. She was not to blame for anything that had happened.

“They’re my family, and they're tormenting yours. Their the ones doing all this.” Y/n hated that she was put into the middle of everything just because of blood and marriage.

“You’ve been with me the whole time. You have had no part in it. In any of it, so none of it is your fault. You are not to blame. They’re tormenting you as well by putting you in the middle of all this.” Robb pulled her against his chest with an arm around her waist holding her to him, while the other rested on the back of her neck. Looking her in the eye’s to prove his seriousness. “I won’t kill Jaime. For you I won’t. But the other Lannisters. . .”

Y/n nodded knowing what he meant. “I know. . . Thank you.”

“You are my wife, my Queen. You do not need to thank me.” Robb shook his head. With him she’d always have a voice. He would never dictate her life.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #robb stark x lannister reader #robb stark x lannister!reader #robb stark x baratheon reader #robb stark x baratheon!reader #x reader #imagine #imagines #y/n #north #winterfell #kingslanding #got #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines

[queeninthesouth-side]

also not a request, im writing what i want to read at the moment, it seems! The lowdown: there’s angst, sex and romance, all Lannister style. He growls. You’re welcome. Very reader focussed, but about a third of it is Tywin’s pov. Possessive, protective husband vibes. Again, you’re welcome. He’s Hand to Joffrey (gag) so it’s set post Robert’s death, but canon? We don’t know her. Also, can we agree Genna is the sister in law we all need?

Coming in at a whopping 8,112 words

In Time, the Lion Loves

Tywin Lannister x fem!Reader

It was a purely political marriage, one that occurred a mere fortnight after your meeting Lord Lannister of Casterly Rock in King’s Landing. He had been taciturn and serious bordering on standoffish most of the time. You were embarrassed that your father had all but forced his hand, what with Lannisters paying their debts and all. And saving Jaime Lannister from the Starks and returning him home when Lord Lannister couldn’t? It was a debt large enough to warrant a hopeless, trustless marriage between you and he.

“Let’s retire,” he said from beside you at your wedding feast, an ostentatious event organised by the Boy King Joffrey and his mother. He’d been unexpectedly amicable, in the way lord husbands were supposed to be with their wives. He’d let you sip from his wine goblet and had given you first pick of the plate you both shared. You enjoyed the roast pheasant while he preferred beef.

“Time for the bedding ceremony!” the King announced, face flushed terribly from the wine he’d indulged in, and green eyes sparking with malice. The King had always looked at you as though he might pounce, and tonight of all nights, you had to rein in your fear of him. As soon as men rose and began tugging at your beautiful gown, they stopped.

Lord Lannister had slammed his hand on the table, the boom echoing throughout the hall the feast was being held.

“No man but I shall touch my wife. Get off her,” he growled. The men around you couldn’t flee fast enough. Then neutral green eyes settled on you, readjusting your sleeves that had come down your shoulder some in the tugging and offering you his hand to escort you from the hall.

He poured you more wine once in the Tower of the Hand, but you did not move to drink it. You had let go of your fear of this man in particular, especially as he’d kept you close to him all evening, and had gently seated you beside him at the feast. It could certainly be a ruse, one to make him seem the perfect Lord even in a marriage he had not chosen.

“Stop thinking so much, you’ll make yourself dizzy.”

“I was thinking how much I appreciate your manner, my Lord. It would not have surprised me if you were a cruel man in private, though I am beginning to see there isn’t any needless cruelty in your body.”

He looked at you then, watching as you took a single, gracious sip from your cup, before turning and looking at him too. You were beautiful, this he knew. He was a widower, not blind, and he had appreciated privately any particular woman of exceeding beauty. But he’d always been a jealous and possessive type of man, and you were almost made more beautiful by the fact you were his alone. His wife. He’d need to get used to that again.

“You will bear me sons, and manage the Rock should we return. It would not do to sully our alliance so soon.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“Are you nervous, Lady Wife?”

“No, my Lord. I snuck off to a brothel before we travelled to King’s Landing and had a whore explain to me the truth of a marriage bed.”

Already he felt a flare of possessiveness take him. The thought of you in any brothel made him twitch. Had any men seen you? Had anyone touched you? He found the thought entirely unacceptable, and was sure to say so.

“I knew I’d be married shortly after my arrival here, my Lord. I did not want to be uninformed, and septas take a vow of chastity. How could they give me an objective insight into married relations?”

“While it is an admirable quality to seek out your own answers,” he said, walking over to you and looking down as you sat opposite his desk. “You will not set foot in an establishment like that again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Lord,” you said, looking up at him with earnest eyes. He liked them, he decided, when they were settled on him.

The first night, he’d answered any questions you’d been left with on how a woman takes pleasure from her husband, and gods, did he give you pleasure. In short order, you’d found yourself looking forward to the hour or so an evening he’d dedicate to getting an heir on you. You were grateful he’d make it an enjoyable experience.

He was long and hard, and you’d taken him two dozen times at least already, and every time he had to let you adjust, lest he hurt you. It was sweet torture for him, feeling you tight around his cock, sighing and humming for him until he’d draw out more sounds.

Your hands, never stilled once he was inside you, gripped at his back, his sides, his neck. Anywhere you could reach, you would touch, but never outside the bedroom. He used to appreciate this, he realised, sinking in all the way and delighting in your gasp. Not having a clingy little wife who lingered about him at all hours.

No, he realised, drawing back then driving forward more firmly. He wanted you to be clingy with him. It was barely a moon into his marriage to you, and he wanted to possess you as much as you seemed to possess him. With this thought, he dedicated himself to your pleasure. He’d make you enjoy his cock beyond anything else, then he’d make you enjoy him.

“My Lord,” you whined as he brushed a spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back and fluttering shut.

Oh yes, the Lion thought, he’d have you in all ways soon enough.

When you’d both agreed to make small appearances around the Keep, Tywin had thought it’d send a clear message that the Lord and Lady Lannister were united despite the tenuous start of your marriage. It did not quite have this affect, to his chagrin.

Men watched you everywhere you went, he realised on these walks. Their eyes would follow your walk, your hair, your face and any words that floated along the wind sweetly. You were splendiferous in red and gold, and he’d spared no expense on your wardrobe. Bedecked in the finest gowns, second to only the Queen, and even then outdoing his daughter to her distaste. He’d made it as clear without words as possible, you were his. And yet, these cads watched his wife as though she were still an eligible heiress and not his lady wife.

Then began the marks.

On your neck, your shoulders, even your wrists, which he delighted in kissing and licking in rare shows of intimacy. He was an odd man, your husband, but he left you to your own devices apart from your new routine of walking and visiting your bed to procure an heir. He’d stop his attentions once you were with child, you knew, but you ignored the twinge of upset the thought caused. He was not your lover, he was your husband, and you lived in a world where they were not one and the same.

The marks were bothersome, especially if he hadn’t kept to below your collarbones, as you’d told him to. He rather seemed pleased with himself when a bruise was left by your ear or your throat. You’d learned all sorts of hairstyles to cover them, styles that seemed to draw the eyes of others, but none moreso than the Master of Coin.

Petyr “Littlefinger” Baelish was not a man you’d heard of before your arrival at the capitol, but he’d made himself known to you at your wedding, and seemingly every other day since. He’d appeared sympathetic at first to your marriage, though when he saw your irritation at the perceived pity, he’d taken another approach. Whispering words of the deeds your Lord Husband had done to carry on his legacy. The details disturbed you of course, but you were not so foolish to think Baelish would tell you anything of the truth, only what he wanted you to know. Ignoring him was easy, but his presence made you uncomfortable, try as you might to hide it.

“My Lady,” he smirked at you. Sat at a bench in the leafy shade, enjoying the weather and a good book, you greeted him politely but made no move to stand or invite him to sit. He cleared his throat at the ensuing silence. “I had hoped you might walk with me around the gardens, my lady?”

Closing your book, you stood and began making your turn about the aisles of flowers and crawling vines. He walked beside you looking at you out his periphery. You’d mastered the art of looking around a room without moving your eyes, so his attention was far less overt than he’d hoped.

“And what did you wish to speak to me about, Master of Coin?” You felt an odd yearning for your husband then. Surely the sly little man would leave you be if your hulk of a husband were near.

“Have you travelled to Dorne before, my lady?”

The question sent a chill through you. The man was up to no good, you were sure, but your husband would surely not desire to hear your concerns over the, as far, polite attentions of a member on the Small Council.

“I have not, my lord. I don’t much fancy such arid temperatures, so I cannot say I have a desire to visit anyhow. Have you?” you asked to keep your polite façade.

“I have, my lady. It’s a beautiful, if arid as you say, land. I’ve many friends there, and a home of my own, too, for when business takes me that side of the world.”

“If you only wished to inquire about my travels, Master of Coin, I shall bid you farewell.” In a move so fast you hardly realised it’d happened, Baelish had placed your hand over his arm. Coincidentally, your Lord Husband happened upon you both that instant. You pulled your hand from him with a delicate frown and took a step away.

“Baelish,” your husband gritted, eyes glittering with danger. For you or Baelish, you weren’t quite sure. Almost certainly both.

“Lord Hand. I shall leave you to your strolling, my lady. Good day.” And then he was gone.

“You are not to walk about the Keep unattended, wife,” Tywin says lowly.

“Yes, my lord,” you reply softly, turning to return to the Keep proper.

That night, your lord husband drew peak after peak from your body, relentless until you were practically unconscious from the pleasure. You’re mine, he’d said over and over as he drove into you. And he did not stop touching you. Your hair, your face, your lips especially. He seemed to kiss the breath out of you, stopping only when he’d finished a second time, and you could barely speak.

You’d woken the next morning alone, as you always did. Your husband would only share your bed for the act of siring an heir, and would always be gone by the time you woke. It didn’t bother you, you told yourself as you woke cold and sore. It was perfectly expectable for a husband to act this way. And you would do your duty, as you’d been taught to, so it hardly mattered if he was there when you woke. He didn’t need to be next to you in the morning to get a child on you, so why would he? It was this cold logic that helped you through your bath and preparations for the day.

===

Two moons later, and your husband had not refrained from exhausting you thoroughly every night. He stayed a little longer, waiting for you to be asleep before he would make his exit, and sometimes you swore you could feel his fingers caressing whatever body part was exposed to him. Though it was surely the musings of a well-sated, completely exhausted woman.

The Master of Coin’s attentions had not faded either, though this made you less than pleased. It was hard to desire leaving the Tower without your husband, knowing Baelish would find you inevitably. He had gotten into the habit of placing your hand on his arm when he could get away with it, which was often as he avoided your husband at all costs. There was no love lost between Littlefinger and the Great Lion.

“Your husband is making a three day expedition to the surrounding towns. Something the Hand does every year or so.”

“Yes, he’s mentioned it. He’s made arrangements accordingly.”

“You must be excited to see more of King’s Landing, my lady.”

“I have requested to stay behind,” you say offhandedly. You were hoping to gauge his intentions by telling him this. The look of determination, and something much like scheming, settled in his eyes. It frightened you.

With the desire to be away from this man and near to your husband, you bid the Master of Coin farewell and walked away before he could follow.

Entering the Tower and seeing your husband hard at work at his desk brought you a feeling of peace you did not realise he gave you.

“Wife,” he said simply.

“My Lord,” you always replied. There was a settee by the window, and in the time you’d been married to Tywin you’d never seen him sit there. You walked to his bookshelf, grabbed whatever spine took your interest and sat at the settee to read. Your husband made no comment, so you did not move.

A couple hours of silence followed, you reading about agricultural infrastructure and him responding to raven after raven.

“You’re disturbed,” he says suddenly.

“I grew weary of people watching me.” It was not quite a lie, but again, how could you be honest that you were hiding from the Master of Coin? That you thought he was up to something? That and how quickly you tired these days. Being married was exhausting, especially when your husband could not seem to get enough of your attentions at night.

“I leave on the morrow for the Tour of the Hand. I had summoned my sister to come for a few weeks to the capitol and she arrived today, but is resting. Mostly to get her away from that miserable husband of hers,” he added. He’d been doing that over the last few weeks, adding details that he usually wouldn’t if you were anyone else. It felt like a token, of what you couldn’t say, but something from him to you regardless.

Your anxiety got in the way of any warmth. Without Tywin, Baelish would have no deterrent to keep him from approaching you, even calling on you in your chambers if he was bold. Having Genna Lannister (never Genna Frey) would perhaps be a hindrance rather than a help. You didn’t know the woman, and the only other Lannister woman in the capitol made no efforts to get to know you.

“I shall look forward to meeting her, my Lord.” He hummed and that was that.

Later that night, after dinner, your husband summoned you to his chambers. Usually he’d cross the dividing parlour between your rooms and bed you there, but he obviously couldn’t be bothered to make the journey, you thought.

He was undressing you as he made sure to do every night, never letting you do it yourself. You undressed him, he’d instructed you on your wedding night, and he would undress you. It was only when you were splayed across his bed, hair unbound and laid across the pillows when his eyes darted to your midsection.

Palming your lower abdomen, and seemingly finding what he was looking for, he said, “You are carrying my babe in your belly, wife.”

The words brought dread. Would he stop his attentions? You hadn’t realised how much you liked them until they might be taken away. But then his words actually sunk in. A baby. There was a babe in your belly, your own, and in some moons it’d be in your arms, gods willing.

Tywin watched as you smiled small at first, then sat up and felt where his hand cupped the slight swell. He saw a true smile from you, one bright and warm as the fire in his chambers that crackled merrily. Tywin felt annoyed that he would have to leave you come morn, especially now that the next lion of Casterly Rock was in your belly. And quietly, perhaps he enjoyed the way you sat with him, and wanted more of the same.

Feeling pride at making his wife smile, and that he’d gotten a babe in her so quickly after their marriage, he kissed you breathless until you pulled away for air. It didn’t stop him from trailing kisses across your neck and collarbones, down to your breasts, which were heaving by now. He couldn’t wait to see them swell in the coming moons.

You thought he would stop there, return to you and get on with it, but he moved lower and lower, until he was staring into your most private place. It was embarrassing for a few moments, until he leaned forward and began kissing you there too. It was overwhelming. So perfect, making you writhe and pant. You never begged, but if he toyed with you like this long enough, you were sure you would.

“You’ve done well, wife. Allow me to reward you,” he purred before his tongue went inside. This, you decided, was well worth it to have waited for. In no time at all the sounds of him kissing you there overtook the fire and even your own deep, heavy breaths were drowned out. “One lion stronger, soon to be two,” he said as you peaked over his lips and tongue.

===

You woke a little after you’d both fallen asleep, tired and sated and, dare you think, happy at the prospect of the babe. It took you a moment to realise you weren’t in your own rooms, and that this was the first time you were waking up beside your husband.

He was laid out on his back, long legs nearly stretching the entire length of enormous bed, one of his arms bent underneath his pillow, and one stretched to rest under your pillow. You only allowed yourself a moment to admire him before quietly getting out of bed, collecting your clothes and moving like a ghost to your own rooms. It was hardly an hour past midnight, and you felt so tired all the time (from the babe you now realised) that all you wanted was to sleep.

Tywin woke an hour before dawn to an empty bed, and this infuriated him somehow. To be left while he slept made him feel as though you’d taken your pleasure and gone away from him. The only thought that stopped him from barging into your rooms was how that’s exactly what he did to you every night but the one you’d just shared.

Getting up from bed and throwing on a dressing gown to cover his nudity he marched directly to your rooms, finding you curled up by the edge of the bed, as though leaving a space for someone else. This appeased him in a way he couldn’t ascertain, but he needn’t linger. It was early still, and he didn’t need to be up and out of the Tower until after breakfast in a rare change of schedule.

He approached your sleeping form and gently manoeuvred you so he could scoop you up. You hummed, then frowned and blinked an eye open.

“M’Lord?” you mumbled.

“Hush,” he soothed, using the voice he’d found you reacted particularly well to. “I woke to find my wife missing from my bed,” he explained softly. “I am simply rectifying the issue.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me to stay,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and allowing him to grip you behind the knees and scoop you by your shoulders. “I’m sorry,” you said, and Tywin was distracted by how sweet and docile you were when sleepy.

“Hush, I said,” he murmured by your temple. You curled closer to him at that, and his chest rumbled in satisfaction. “From now on, you stay in my bed.”

“With you?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes softening, though you’d never know with your eyes shut. “With me.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Tywin, he wanted to say. Call me Tywin, anything but that. He did not. He was asleep again in moments now that you were back in his chambers, and you’d been asleep again before he set you in the centre of the bed.

When you woke, your husband was still in bed with you, an arm wrapped round your waist, hand splayed over your slight swelling. When he woke a few minutes after you, your husband tightened his hold and pulled you closer. This was new, you thought. But delightful. You realised more and more how pleased you were that you married such a fine man, even if you’d never share a love or more intimacy than expected of you in public. This was enough, you told yourself. It had to be.

You both laid together for a while, and during that time you wondered if your husband would truly listen to you if you mentioned Baelish. But then he rose to dress in time for a midday departure, and you decided the moment had past. You would be able to handle Baelish. You were a lion now.

Genna Lannister was already sat at the breakfast table, and you almost did a double take. Where Tywin was sleek apparel and minimal embellishments, Genna was the opposite. She wore a scarlet gown that accentuated her plump figure, gold dripping from her ears and throat and wrists, and hair done so elaborately you wondered how long she’d been awake to have managed such a style. And she was vivacious as they came.

You enjoyed her immediately.

“Sister!” she announced at your arrival, standing and coming to greet you as though you were long time friends. It didn’t feel predatory the way Baelish or the Queen could be, so you smiled and greeted her the same way.

“No greeting to your Lord Brother?” Tywin grouched.

“Oh, are you here as well, Tywin?” Genna teased. He huffed and pulled out your chair, assisting you into it before seating himself and glaring at his sister to do the same so they may eat.

“And how is my big brother, then?”

“You’re only being tame because you think I have a secret.”

“On the contrary, brother, I know you have a secret, and even better than that, I already know what it is.” She turned to face you and smiled truly at you. “Congratulations, sister,” she said sweetly. “And you! What a greedy lion you must be to get a child on her so fast!”

“Genna,” he warned, seeing your embarrassed flush. The blonde only laughed and waved him away. And Tywin let her! What a marvel this woman, her sister, was turning out to be.

“Oh, quit your growling and eat your porridge, brother.” And Tywin did just that.

It was a lively breakfast that came to an end when Tywin excused himself to prepare for his departure. You curtsied when he bowed to you both before taking his leave.

“Tell me, my dear, have you thought of names?”

“I only discovered last night I was withchild, and it was even my husband who’d figured it out. Do you have suggestions?”

“Genna for a girl,” she joked. “Tyton is a strong name. Perhaps Tywin will like it, too.” You agreed, and you did like Tyton. It was a strong name.

Genna, after a tour of the Tower, insisted on a walk around the gardens before seeing Tywin off. Baelish did not appear, to your relief, but his absence was almost as worrying. He was up to something you could tell, but what? Maybe you could confide in Genna?

In the end, you saw off your husband as a good wife should, not even having to pretend very much that you were sad to see him go. The Queen hadn’t paid an inch of attention to you besides a look of distaste after she greeted her Lady Aunt. And then it was back inside for you and Genna to read, then eat and retire.

The next day, you realised that yes, you missed your husband. Already you were wishing the three days would end so he could be by your side again. Your anxiety about Baelish had only worsened since you’d found you were having a babe, and Tywin had suggest you both wait to see the maester until after he returned. The news would spread fast that the Lady Lannister was withchild, and Tywin had said he didn’t want to be far when that happened, in case of anything. You’d wanted to lean up and kiss him when he said that, but you refrained, certain he’d shoo you away.

“My dear, you look exhausted. Come, we’ll prepare for bed then retire.”

You nodded to Genna, who had doted on you in a rather maternal way since her arrival. She’d helped you to undress, then into your nightgown and bed, wishing you sweet dreams before going to her own chambers on the level below.

It was dark when you were disturbed by something. The fire had died down (no one but Tywin could make a fire that would last the whole night) and the room was pitch black. You turned to sleep again when something foul smelling fell over you mouth and nose. You struggled against the stranger’s hand, trying not to breathe in whatever was soaked into the cloth. To your horror, your body was relaxing, your mind losing consciousness. Your last coherent thought was a desperate yearning for Tywin.

===

Genna woke and dressed, her handmaiden well versed in her hair enough to do it all in half an hour, and was sitting at the breakfast table waiting for you. When half an hour past and she heard no movement from yours and her brother’s chambers, she made her way to them herself. If the maids were too incompetent to wake you then she’d do it herself.

Upon entering the room, she stopped short. You were not in bed, and there were no maids fluttering about as they would if you were bathing. Genna had learned to trust her intuition and felt something was deeply wrong, especially as the bed looked as though you’d had a restless sleep. She wanted to believe you were just up early and perhaps strolling the gardens, but Genna knew that wasn’t the case.

She called for the guards, and told them to gather as many Lannister men as they could to search the Keep for the Lady Lannister. She hoped beyond hope she was wrong, but she so rarely was.

===

You woke to darkness and the gentle sway of a ship sailing, and thought yourself dreaming before you jolted upright. You were in a cabin on a ship, that much was obvious. What wasn’t, was why you were there, who’d taken you and where you were going. Dread settled in your gut. Would your husband find out? A silly question. He possibly already knew. What you were frightened to consider was that he might think you’d run away. Your heart gave a fierce pang of longing for your husband yet again, and then steely resolve filled you. There was a desk in the room you were in, one obviously well used, if the stacks of papers, inkwell and sacks of coins were any indication.

You stood, saw a dress laid out on the bed, one of dark blue decorated with swirls in a pattern you knew Baelish to favour. You should have said something, you thought bitingly. You should have gone with your husband. Then you’d be exhausted but safe, and with him.

You dressed in the gown quickly, fearing someone would come in as you were underdressed. The gown had pockets, as was custom in southern dresses now that the Queen had made it so. A plan was forming in your head about what to do, and with the nimbleness of a mouse and the resolve of a lionness, you grabbed the smallest coin pouch, checked to see it had golden stags, then bound the pouch tight as you could to avoid clinking, pocketed it, then sat on the bed and waited.

Baelish came in after a time, not that you were surprised, but you had a part to play now, and you’d need to be convincing. Your life and your babe’s counted on it.

“Lord Baelish?”

“Hello, my dear.”

“My Lord, what has happened? Did my husband send for you?”

“Your husband,” Baelish began, walking to sit beside you on the bed. It was a violation of etiquette, though you didn’t show any discomfort. “Will no longer be an issue.”

Your heart almost stopped, but then you reasoned even Petyr Baelish could not kill your husband. Tywin was too well-protected and too intelligent to be caught off guard as you had.

“He has sent me away?” you asked, playing the distraught little wife.

Baelish made to speak, to deny your words, you knew. Then he paused, and you saw that he considered you believing this the favourable option.

“He did, my Lady. He had men retrieve you from your bed, but my own intercepted them and brought you aboard my ship. I intended to offer you a spot anyway, to come with me to the Vale where my betrothed awaits us.”

You allowed a faux tear to fall, and your head to droop down to your chest.

“He isn’t fond of me,” you admitted quietly. You weren’t sure it was a lie, so it was easy to say so.

“He neglects you, my Lady. You are such a treasure,” he said, the obvious lust making your stomach roll. You only managed to nod. “We’ll be docking soon, my Lady. I sent another ship to Dorne and we will be docking nearby to the capitol to avoid suspicion. Why would we be so close when there’s a ship making to across the sea?”

“Very clever, my Lord,” you said softly. He smirked at you then brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, you blushed and turned away, and it was enough to deter him from pushing for more. You felt sick that he was touching you, feeling as though you were somehow being unfaithful to your husband. You couldn’t let on that you thought this, so you didn’t.

You waited until you heard Baelish disembarking the ship with great fanfare, stating something about needing to settle some business in the port town you were docked at. It was very late at night, you couldn’t have been sailing for more than three or so hours, but regardless, it was many days walk and at least a day’s ride by horse to return to the capitol. You found a cloak and some old breeches and tunics in a closet, boots that were too big, so you stuffed some cloth under and around your foot. It made you a few inches taller, more convincing in your disguise as a sailor. You pinned your hair back with whatever you could find and slipped out of the cabin to find a guard slumped over in sleep outside your door. You hadn’t known he was there, but by the grace of the Mother, you had a chance.

You walked off the ship in no particular hurry to avoid suspicion, then made your way to the nearest stable you could see, banging on the door until someone answered.

“What d’ya want,” a grisly looking man groused once he opened the door. You placed the coin pouch in his hands.

“Give me your best horse, saddle it immediately and the coin is yours.” He nodded, looking at you strangely before doing as you asked.

“I dunno who yer runnin’ from, girl, but ye better be fast. An’ ‘ere,” he said handing you a pouch of what you discovered to be bread and some apples. “Some for ye, and some for the stallion,” he explained.

“I thank you,” you said quietly.

“Go on now. Sun’s comin’ soon.” And off you rode.

It was in the heat of the midday sun you began to feel poorly. Your legs were sore and chafing, your hips aching, and you hadn’t dared stop to rest or eat lest Baelish discover you. You wouldn’t rest until you were back with your husband, this you vowed.

===

“A raven, milord, from your Lady Sister,” the squire said as Tywin retired to his tent. By the morrow, he’d be back in his own chambers with his wife, and able to be rid of the grime that always managed to build up on the road.

He sat first, poured some wine, and took a long sip before unrolling the parchment and reading the note.

“Prepare my horse!” he roared moments after having read the note a third time. Men sprang into action, some packing his tent and others preparing to depart with their Liege Lord. Within minutes he was riding hard into the night and back to King’s Landing.

His wife had waited for him to be gone then she’d stolen away in the night with his babe inside her. He was furious, and he rode like it. How dare she, he thought. You had tried to make a fool of him and no one fooled the Great Lion and got away with it. Beyond his anger, he realised his chest was tight. She’d left, was all he could think. And he’d fancied himself to be growing fond of her. What a fool.

“I want a patrol to set out immediately,” he said to yet another squire as he marched into the Red Keep. “Find my runaway bride and bring her to me unharmed.”

“Yes, milord!” And away the boy went.

Genna was pacing in his study when he arrived, a worried look on her face she only wore for her family (minus her husband), then regarded him intensely.

“She did not run, Tywin.”

“She did,” he gritted out.

“She didn’t. She fretted the entire day you left, asked me about a dozen times where I thought you might be as the day passed. She did not leave, brother.”

And loathe as he was to admit it, his sister was far more perceptive than she had any right to be. If she believed his wife had not run from him, then he would try to believe the same. His anger immediately turned to angst.

“Then she was taken, and is likely gone to me forever if she is not found in the next days.” His voice was low, growlish, and Gemma saw right through it.

“She’s a smart little thing, Tywin, and we have some leads already. Have hope, brother.”

“She is carrying my babe,” he said, though his sister knew him too well not to know what he truly meant.

“She is your wife, brother, and she at least takes her vows seriously. She would not betray you like this, and I happen to think she will try everything in her power to come back.”

Tywin realised she could very well be dead already. How apt of the gods, to thrust a wife upon him he had no want for, then to take her from him when he did.

“I’ll kill whoever did this,” he said quietly. He felt his sister’s hand on his shoulder and clenched his fists. He wished for his wife in that moment, their easy silences and the way she seemed to seek him out just to be near to him. “And I’ll never let her leave my sight again.”

===

There was a point where even your horse refused to go farther, and you had to agree. It was nearing nightfall, and you were exhausted. Your whole body ached, and you thanked the gods you weren’t heavier withchild or riding wouldn’t have been an option.

You settled for the night, ate the bread the stable hand had packed you and fed all but one apple to your horse, who munched happily on them then the grass, then promptly went to sleep near you. It was a sweet horse, and didn’t mind when you laid next to it, leaning your tired body on its side.

You slept for hardly a few hours before dreams of Baelish catching you and Tywin truly having sent those men woke you. Rousing the horse, who seemed grumpy at being woken, you re-saddled him and began a lighter pace. You had already begun to recognise your surroundings, and made haste again towards the capitol. When you crested a hill and saw the top of the Red Keep in the distance, you burst into tears of relief and pushed your horse to ride on. He seemed to understand your anxiety to be home, and did as you bade him. You patted his neck the entire way through the sleepy King’s Landing, and all the way to the King’s Gate.

“Who goes there,” the gate master called out at your arrival. Your must’ve looked like a commoner with your drab coat and less than quality clothes. They probably thought you stole the horse.

Pulling back your hood, you revealed your face, unpinned your hair and announced yourself.

“I am Lady Lannister,” you said, and heard murmuring follow. A guard came down to you, shone a torch in your face and upon recognising you, he called for the gates to open and for someone to retrieve the Hand.

They escorted you up to the Palace steps, and assured you they’d take care of your horse, before a servant came to take you to your chambers. You could hardly walk, so sore from the saddle, and exhausted beyond belief. You were nearly at the Tower when a commotion caught your attention.

Ahead of you, you saw your husband. He was still dressed from the day and did not look to have slept, despite it being nearly dawn. He laid his eyes on you, and both of you sprang to go to the other.

Your legs protested the pace, but you hurried down the hall to him. In several long strides he reached you and pulled you to his chest, arms locking around you tight. You cried again, clutching the lapels on his doublet.

“Hush, wife,” he said, though you cried harder at his voice. He picked you up into his arms, told the guards to stand by the door on rotation, then took you inside the Tower.

You had cried all through him undressing you, and himself, all through the bath he’d ordered be delivered, and all through him washing your sore, bruised and chafed body. Only when you were back in your bed did you finally settle enough to speak.

“I didn’t run from you, I swear it, I swear it,” you repeated to him, begging him without words to believe you. He caressed your body from hip to shoulder, holding you tight.

“I know you didn’t, wife, though I had initially assumed that to be the case,” he said as though it shamed him to have thought that.

“Baelish,” you gasped. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think— I didn’t think you’d believe me, but I should’ve said, I should’ve gone with you,” you explained, though you didn’t really explain much at all.

“Baelish took you?” he growled, arms tightening around you. You nodded.

“He had two ships, one to Dorne and one to the Vale. We docked in the night to not look suspicious, and I found clothes and stole a pouch of coin, slipped off the ship and bought a horse. I rode all the way here, I hardly stopped.”

Tywin would be the one to kill Baelish, he decided. For making his wife afraid, for taking her from him and for putting his babe in potential danger. He would make it slow as possible without being outright torture if he could manage, though the idea certainly had merit.

“I was so frightened,” you admitted quietly, looking up from your husband’s chest to peer at him in the eyes. “Scared he’d get me all the way to the Vale, and then I’d never be able to get away. Scared he’d know about the babe and— and give me something to kill it,” you said voice cracking. You lifted a palm to his cheek, the first time you’d ever reached for him outside of marital duties. He leaned into your palm, eyes fixed on you. “I was so scared I’d never be able to see you again, my Lord.”

“Tywin,” he said, desperate, though you couldn’t tell it was that. “You call me Tywin.”

“Tywin,” you breathed, and then his mouth was on you. He called you wife, he called you lady, he called your name, all with ‘my’ attached. He did not leave you as you drifted into an exhausted sleep, nor as you rested. Not for anything. His grandson could summon him and he’d tell him to talk a walk off a balcony railing. He would not let you go, not ever again.

“I’m here,” you whispered in your slumber, arms equally tight around him. “I’m here, Tywin.”

He kissed your hairline, smelling the soaps he’d used to wash you, the ones you always smelled of. He couldn’t believe someone had dared to steal you from him, to take his lady wife.

“I thought you might’ve been…” he could not finish the thought. It would make him think of the familiar grief he carried with him every day, the one of a man who’d lost his wife. He could not compete with gods and nature, but he could certainly compete with Baelish.

“It would need more than a mockingbird to defeat a lionness,” you purred. His worry for you had made you feel needy, and you knew he hated neediness.

“You will not leave me,” he commanded, and your heart gave way to the affection you held off for so long.

“Never,” you agreed. “And if I go anywhere, I’ll take you with me,” you said, kissing him firmly, your fist time initiating such an embrace. He gave into you immediately, ravishing your mouth and neck and chest with those marks he was so fond of, and truly, you were fond of them too. Maybe you’d even be daring enough to leave your own.

He made love to you that morning, as the birds sang so did you, though to Tywin, your song was much sweeter.

It was some weeks before your husband brought up your kidnapping again. He had been fiercely protective since your return to him, and there wasn’t a moment you were unguarded. There was no Baelish in the capitol anymore, so you felt at ease enough to return to the gardens as you used to, though now you had Genna for company, who was doting and funny, and kept your spirits high through the stress of the recent moon.

You were declared in perfect health despite the bruising and chafing by a maester Tywin trusted. You thanked the gods every day since your return for keeping your babe safe through the turmoil.

“My dear,” Genna said, pulling you from your daydreaming. “Have you thought it might be twins?”

That night, you asked Tywin if he agreed with his sister, and after careful consideration, he agreed you were larger than usual for so early on. His eyes darkened, and he pulled you to bed within moments.

Your husband, you’d learned in the recent weeks, was needier than he let on. Always wanting to touch, always wanting to kiss your sweet mouth when privacy allowed it, and gods, did his desire for you become plain as the sun in the sky. He could not get enough of you, how your hips were widening and your breasts were swelling, how your stomach had begun to protrude noticeably. He was prideful as a lion, especially with evidence of his virility in the form of his beautiful wife carrying his babe.

On a day where you wanted nothing more than to nap and read in your husband’s solar while he worked, there was finally news of Baelish. His ships had been sacked by the Greyjoys, and he’d been held prisoner there for a sennight. Tywin allowed you to see his correspondence thereafter with the Greyjoys, and you nearly baulked at the sum of money he’d offered for Baelish, alive.

And, as in most things, Tywin got his way, and Baelish was delivered to the capitol in chains. He certainly looked worse for wear, and you privately found satisfaction in that.

Baelish had demanded a trial by combat, and a knight well known in Dorne had stepped forward to be his fighter. Tywin had wanted to fight himself, but as Hand to the King, he resided as a judge on the case and was not permitted. His son, Jaime, had volunteered to fight on, technically, your behalf, though he was officially representing the Hand.

Jaime arrived to the fight in Lannister gold and red, declared he fought as the son of the Great Lion, and would fight for his Liege Lady. He nodded to you in the Dragon Pit, where the fight was to take place, and you nodded back in appreciation of the message. Even the Queen, who had mellowed around you some with your pregnancy and her aunt’s intervention, had nodded approvingly.

The fight was far shorter than any would’ve expected, the Dornish fighter far more flashy than skilled. He was no match for Jaime, who was considered one of the greatest knights in history.

Baelish’s head hung low as his champion yielded, and Tywin had insisted he be executed then and there. You watched as your husband swung the sword himself, and forced yourself to witness Baelish’s head fall from his shoulders.

Later, when you were finished being sick, Tywin scolded you.

“You needn’t do things like that, watching something so violent. I should have had you escorted back to our chambers.”

You graciously took his hand as he led you to bed after you’d rinsed your mouth and chewed some mint leaves.

“I would not have agreed to be away from you,” you said simply, watching Tywin’s frown deepen and his chest simultaneously puff at your desire to always be by his side.

You’d grown bolder in your affections for him slowly everyday since your return. You touched him all the time now, and he revelled in it.

“Lay with me,” you requested sweetly, patting his side of the bed. Your stomach was certainly too large for a single babe, and sleeping had already become difficult for you, only made easier with your husband’s arms around you. It was inconvenient, but he would sooner bring his work to bed than give you reason to shy from him again.

“And how are my little lions,” he said as he reclined and cradled your belly in his palm.

“They’re— oh!” You exclaimed, reaching for your belly, a frown furrowing your brow.

“What is it?” he asked at once, dread taking him. But you smiled suddenly, grabbed his hand and pressed it firmly to the other side. He was about to call for a maester when he felt the fluttering kicks of his children (he was convinced there were three, though you vehemently hoped not).

“They’re saying hello to their papa,” you sighed as he began massaging your bump, as though playing with the babes inside.

He moved lower on the bed, pressed his mouth to your skin and hummed. You laughed as the babes wriggled inside you, the feeling odd and bordering on uncomfortable, but to see this man, your husband, so gentle with you and with children that did not yet quite exist, your heart felt fuller than ever.

“Tywin,” you called, prompting him to look up at you. “You are dearer to me than any other, my lion.”

Your husband smiled and crawled back up to your lips to kiss them. He did not say anything back, but he made the most gentle love to you, whispering your name and how lovely you were, how good a mother you’d be to his babes. By the time you peaked, tears had been streaming down your face, wiped away each time by the gentle hand of your man.

#tywin x reader #tywin lannister x reader #got x reader #game of thrones #tywin lannister #genna lannister

[facelesswoman666]

Hello everyone i have something for you guys, for my Game of Thrones fans ✨

A lion thinks with his loins, not his head!

An (Uncle) Jaime Lannister x (fem/Niece) Lannister Reader

I wanted to write this as a thank you to everyone who has supported me recently and my last post, please keep supporting.

This is 18+ as per usual, and it’s not heavy on plot but it’s not extremely light on plot, who am i kidding it’s pure smut, enjoy! xo

warning, public sexual activity

Minors DNI, otherwise enjoy.

Court became increasingly dull, and minutes refused to tick by as if a broken clock had been strung upon the throne room walls. Pale red stone walls built strong, to protect its regal inhabitants.

I found i never adopted the proper acquiescence it takes to become a lady of the court. I fiddled, to no end, so much so that my mother corrected me endlessly. Although Cersei Lannister wasn’t typically everyone’s mother, in fact being birthed into the Lannister bloodline seemed rarer these days than it had been.

“Princess, have you drifted away?” a soft, rugged voice queried to me on my balcony.

“No uncle.” My simper was delighted at the intrusion of Jaime, his hair sand blonde and shone like gold under the blaring sun. He truly was the human embodiment of a lion, brave as he was strong.

The heat of childish embarrassment creeped up my thighs. I was handed a single lantana flower, peppered with smaller clusters of petals layered upon each other. “Red and gold” he stated “to match the colours of your pretty dress my dear”

His hand lingered atop mine, it was as if letting go would be a tragedy of unforgivable nature. He stroked a thumb over my delicate skin, dared himself to kiss it, up my arms, to my décolletage.

That manor of behaviour was unbecoming of a maiden.

“You’re hand, is so soft my princess” he spoke aloud, it roused a giggle from me.

“Do you go about stroking the hands of many princesses?” i raised an eyebrow in curiosity, searching his features for an answer.

He mouthed, in exaggeration. Only You, my love.

I could not, it was forbidden to crack myself open in sexual submission for the man i had come to adore, love even. I was taught, that to lose your maidenhood before marriage was a vile and disgusting example of anti-religious misconduct on behalf of both persons.

He gazed into my eyes, those gorgeous emerald eyes, he acted as a man starved. Who was i to deny him? I was a lady, a respectable lady. His hand rested now on my waist and slipped higher and higher in the seconds that went by “Jaime” He hushed me and brought a single finger to my agape mouth.

He placed a single, sweet, stolen kiss on my desperate lips. The kisses we stole in privacy were the most precious kisses i had ever experienced. The ones i held close when i had no company. My solitude was the time when i acted on those encounters, fingers that played between my thighs.

Now, his fingers played between my thighs, above the cover of my dress. It’s thin, silken fabric easily removed, open access. A peach torn open, the juice licked from between its flesh. “shhh, my love, let us have this moment” His voice rendered as but a whisper to my ear. I could feel his low grunt against my neck, as it raised my hairs to stand upright.

His fist entwined with my hair and he tugged harshly, my neck strained to meet his eye from behind, lustful, pupils flaring in passionate flame. He gripped my pelvic bone from the front, forefinger and thumb bruised either side of me. I whimpered and he pressed stiffly into my ass, hardened at the feeling of softness and moist warmth.

He rocked me forward into the wall of the balcony, i winced at each forced impact. The pleasure arose in me from our prohibited intimacy. I wanted him to fuck me. I would beg him to take me. Ravish me, anywhere. I burned for him. And he for me. Kisses, sloppy open mouthed kisses upwards towards my jaw. His fingers splayed across my jaw, tightened around it, his grip vice like.

“You are so fucking beautiful” His palm groped the peak of my breasts, massaging my nipples in rigorous movement. The bodice of my gown prised from my torso, the most compromising of positions for a lady of my rank in nobility. Jaime’s moans became lewd, dirty in their nature, poking himself further into the back of me.

I had to turn, to look him in the face, to place my hand gently upon his unblemished cheek and ask him to stop “Jaime, my love” he interrupted my speech with a peck of his lips “Please, i beg we may continue somewhere more private?” He hands rubbing feverishly up my waist, over my breasts repeatedly. i steadied his arms and kissed him deeply, i took his hand in mine.

A look of wonder shone in his eyes as i lead him deeper into my sleeping chambers “Let us continue, unburdened by outside scrutiny”

#game of thrones smut #jaime lannister x reader #smut #got fic #game of thrones fic #fanfic #jaime lannister #got imagine

[mawofmeraxes]

hello! i saw your recent post and was wondering if i could request a jaime lannister x reader fic, where the reader was captured (much like he was in season 2) and he kept looking for her but couldn’t find her, and she finally finds her way back to him after months. and it’s like their reunion and he’s so relieved yet concerned and he takes care of her and yeah :)

thank you and i hope ur having a good day! and ofc feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel comfortable writing it <3

hi friend! i really liked this idea and I hope that I did it justice! please let me know if you like it! here it is!

#jaime lannister #jaime #lannister #gameofthrones #game of thrones #game #of #thrones #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister x you #jaime lannister x fem!reader #jaime lannister x female reader #jaime lannister smut #jaime lannister one shot #jaime lannister fanfic #jaime lannister ansgt #jaime lannister fluff #happy ending

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden. Pt3

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Jaime Lannister: SMUT threesome, voyerism, praise kink, oral (Male receiving) )

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

After the event with the mare, the queen saw fit that you would be given basic riding lessons.

"Right, now just do exactly as he says" Cersei emphasized. "No second guessing or backtalk. Treat him as you would me."

"Of course, Your Grace" You were wrapped in a thin wool cloak and worn leather boots, bracing against the chill of the coming autumn. The summer had to end sometime, you supposed.

"My brother is being very generous, offering to teach you." Cersei reminded you.

"I am very grateful for the help" You kept your eyes trained ahead, not wanted to see presumptuous by looking at the queen too much or talking too much.

It was bizarre, two high-borns taking such an interest in someone like you. It made you uneasy, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I certainly don't to embarrass myself more than I already have."

Jaime was waiting for you by the stables, dressed in sturdy riding leather. His blonde hair flopped into his eyes and was brushed back with a gloved hand before he spotted your approach and smiled charmingly.

"Sweet sister" he greeted Cersei before resting his pale green eyes on you "And your new plaything."

"Now Jaime" Cersei chided him, "Be nice, Y/N isn't used to your teasing like I am."

"She will be" Jaime smirked at you, watching the blush creep up your neck and across your face. "Come, let's get started."

"I'll be waiting with the party, my dear." Cersei touched your shoulder, quickening your pulse as you whipped around.

"Your Grace, you're leaving?"

"Rest assured, you are in good hands" The queen insisted, flashing you a cryptic smile. "Good luck"

"Charming, isn't she?" Jaime came from behind you, watching as his sister left you to your own devices. "Come now, the faster we start, the faster you can stop being bullied by Clegane and that rabid stallion of his."

Eager to stand (er, ride) on your own two feet, you followed him before realizing there was only one horse readied.

"Uh, Ser?"

"You didn't think I'd jump to letting you ride on your own that quickly, did you?" Jaime practically laughed in your face. "Here, you first."

"I..." you gawked at the saddle the horse was set with. "You mean riding astride?"

"Something wrong with it?"

You thought for a moment before embracing your mistress's request to trust the knight.

"No, not at all"

He hoisted you up onto the back of his sturdy mount before swinging his legs up behind you. You swallowed a gasp, suddenly finding yourself pressed between the pommel of the saddle and Ser Jaime's chest.

"Let's get into some open terrain so you have space to learn"

Before you could protest, the knight had set the beast off at a quick gallop, one hand gripping the reigns and the other arm wrapped firmly around your waist to keep you from falling off.

Once you were well away from the party and in a broad scope of field, Jaime stopped the horse.

"Now," He handed you the reigns and without preamble place two solid hands on your shoulders. "The first thing to know about proper horse riding is your posture. You want to guide the beast properly? You have to sit it properly."

He gently guided your shoulder back, straightening your spine in the process.

"Now there's a saying my riding master taught me as a boy. And while it may seem forward, I need you to trust me."

Your skin prickled at the near constant contact between your bodies but tried to push it down and focus on the lesson. "Her Grace insisted you were the best. You have my full trust, Ser."

"Good Girl" Jaime praised in a tone that almost melted into a purr. "Now the first thing you want to remember about riding a horse is; Shoulders like a Soldier..."His hands slid from your shoulders, down your arms, before coming to rest on your hips. "and Hips like a Whore."

"Ser!" You gasped but Jaime tutted you into submission.

"I warned you it was forward, but just trust me." He soothed, "Now I am going to drive the horse forward slowly, and I want you to just-" His grip on your hips tightened "Follow the motion."

The beast began to move forward at a gentle walk and as the they went; Jaime's hands slowly guided your hips to match the motion of the horse's gait.

"A little faster?" He asked and you nodded, growing in confidence.

The walk turned to a trot, and the trot to a brisk cantor, and finally to a full gallop which left you breathless, clinging to the horse with your thighs as if you might fall off at any moment.

"Very good" Jaime practically cooed in your ear, slowing the beast back down to a peaceful trop. "You are everything my sister promised."

You beamed at that, proud to have lived up to your mistress's praises.

As your breath returned to you, you began to notice something different. Something that hadn't been there when you started your ride.

A hardness pressed against your ass, brushing up against you with the motion of the beast below you.

"S-ser Jaime." You swallowed. "We should go-"

"Go back, so soon?" Jaime crooned, pulling you closer to him in the saddle and bringing the horse back to a quick trot. "It's a lovely day, we should take advantage of it"

The hardness grew, and you tried not to notice until you felt it twitch slightly and Jaime muffled a moan in his throat.

"I don't think Her Grace would-"

"Would what?" Jaime grinned knowingly at your confused tone. "Sweetling, why do you think she left you out here all alone with me?"

"Because she trusts you, you're her brother."

"Hm" Jaime's hands massaged your hips slowly, running over your soft thighs and even venturing around to the front to cup your sex through your skirt.

You gasped at the sudden touch, pulse pounding as his two fingers skillfully located your slit and began to rub gently through the fabric of your dress.

"Ser" You breathed, trying to organize your thoughts as Jaime pulled your hips back to him, your back flush against his chest, rubbing slow circles through your skirt with the tips of his fingers.

"Just relax, sweetling" He breathed into your ear, "If you get too excited, the horse will sense it. Then we're both in trouble."

"We shouldn't..."

"I don't see you stopping me." He pointed out, hips continuing to brush the length of his cock against your ass. "All I feel is your body heating up against mine. Are you getting excited?"

"Oh Gods." Without thinking, you scrambled off the horse, falling onto your back as you did so.

Jaime laughed out loud, dismounting skillfully and grabbing you by the ankle before you could run for camp.

"Easy, easy girl" He chuckled, batting off you attempts to kick him like they were nothing. "Just calm down."

"The Queen will know." You gasped, heart suddenly pounding. "Her Grace, she trusted me, she's done so much for me, and now I'm here with you and she'll be so angry."

Hot tears began to stream down your face as you began to panic. Jaime paled, not expecting this to go this badly as he attempted to shush your sobs.

"No, no, no, Darling. Just listen, just listen" He tried to grab your attention. "Look, we'll go back to camp. We'll see my sister. Everything will be okay; I swear to you."

Not quite believing him and half convinced your mistress would abandon you here in the wilderness as soon as she heard, you wiped your tears and nodded.

Jaime gathered you in his arms and guided you back to the horse and ferried you both back to the party. He did his best to hide your distress from everyone else as you approached the queen's royal caravan.

"Enter." Cersei turned eagerly as her brother entered, giddy to see how her plan unfolded before her face fell. "What happened?"

Jaime opened his mouth to explain but before he could, you fell to your knees and bowed lowly.

"Your Grace," You sobbed into the ground. "I'm so sorry, I have failed you and betrayed you. I am not worthy of your mercy, but I beg for it all the same."

"I-" Cersei starred at Jaime who shook his head, shrugging in a helpless fashion. "Jaime, what did you do?"

"Exactly what you told me to do, I swear." Jaime insisted,

"Oh" Cersei's mind clicked with understanding and an amused smile crept across her face. "Oh, Y/N. You stupid little thing. Get up."

You obeyed, wiping your tears as the Queen knelt down to look at you.

"Y/N, I sent you out with Jaime *hoping* he would seduce you."

"What?"

"Yes, sweetling." She laughed, "You've been so good for me these last few weeks, and I wanted to reward you. You foolish girl, look at you worked up over nothing. Don't you feel ridiculous?"

You did, ridiculous and embarrassed and ashamed.

"Ser Jaime, I owe you an apology." You couldn't meet his eye, "Her Grace told me to trust you and instead I took you for a villain. Please forgive me?"

"I suppose I can." The knight nodded. "Though you did leave me in quite the uncomfortable position."

"Oh" a blush flooded your face again. "I'm sorry."

"Sweetling" Cersei placed a hand on the top of your head, "You aren't thinking of denying my reward for you, are you?"

"I-" The words caught in your throated. "Your Grace, I-. But-"

"Jaime, come here." Cersei beckoned her brother closer, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "You haven't quite earned the privilege of my bed yet. Treat Ser Jaime as you would me."

Your instructions were clear, and if it pleased your mistress, you were more than happy to comply.

Cersei's nimble hands reached forward to undo the laces of Jaime's trousers, pushing you forward to do the rest as she returned to the chaise with an eager gleam in her eye.

"Have you ever bedded a man before?" Jaime asked and you nodded. It had only been once, but you remembered how everything worked.

Peeling through layers of fabric, you freed the knight's semi-hard cock from his small clothes and scooted closer to him on your knees. A deep rumble of a groan filled the caravan as you took the tip in your mouth, sucking gently before taking more and more length down your throat. Before long, the tip of your nose was buried in the patch of fine blond hair at the base.

"Gods" Jaime breathed, a hand reaching down to grasp at your hair. "Gently, darling gent-" His words caught in his throat as you drew your tongue up the length of him before swiftly taking it whole, gagging slightly to accommodate it. The taste of salty pre-cum coated your taste buds and you hummed with satisfaction.

"That's enough."

You paused your ministrations when your mistress cut in sharply.

"Jaime," she crooned lowly, "Don't be greedy."

Jaime sighed, his brow already shining with perspiration as he withdrew his cock from your throat, a thin strand of saliva hanging from your lips as you gazed up at him.

"The queen is right, sweetling." He sighed, guiding you up by the tip of your chin. "This is supposed to be your reward, not mine."

Eagerly, you allowed him to unlace your bodice and aided him in removing your skirt and small clothes.

"Excited little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled, pulling you in for a deep kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips pleadingly until you parted them, making sure to explore his mouth as much as he did yours. He growled at this, unaccustomed to not being the dominant one, but you responded by sharply nipping his lower lip and grinning. He pulled away with a challenged look, as if calculating his next move.

"Come here" He spat, spinning you around and pulling your back flush against his chest, one hand snaked to your throat as the other danced across your chest. His calloused fingers grazed over your nipples, which responded eagerly as he palmed the softness of your breasts.

"Look" He breathed in your ear, rubbing his hips against your ass as he had in the field. "If you'd been a good girl, we'd have had privacy. Now look at you, about to be fucked in front of your queen."

You moaned at this, biting your lower lip and closing your eyes as he chuckled against your shoulder.

"Or maybe you like this better? Tell me, how long has it been since you've been properly fucked, hm? Years, perhaps?" His hand wondered between your legs once more, locating the sensitive bundle of nerves he knew drove women wild.

"That's right sweet girl," He breathed, firmly pressing his fingers against your clit. Your body tensed and your hips didn't know if they should chase the pleasure of his fingers or flee the intensity of the electricity building between your legs. "Now now, you stay right there."

One hand tweaking your hard nipples and the other pressing your ass against the knight's cock as it circled your clit, you knew you wouldn't last long like this. Your thighs trembled and tried to tighten around his hand, which only made him tease you more.

"Look at this sister, only a few minutes and her body is begging for release. Is that what you want, sweetling? To cum in front of your mistress?"

"Gods, yes! Please, please, please." You begged, skin slick with sweat.

"What a sweet girl, begging so nicely for us." Jaime cooed, sucking on the crook of your neck with a humming laugh. "What do you think, sister?"

You looked up and saw your mistress's face alight with excitement, her own thighs squeezing together as she watched the show her brother put on for her.

"I think....not"

You whined when Jaime all at once withdrew his touch from your body.

"Take her to the bed. I want to watch her cum around you." Cersei requested and Jaime gladly obliged.

"Tell me, sweet sister," Jaime hummed, watching Cersei leave her chaise to meet him at the bed where he deposited your aching, desperate body. "How would you like your little slave fucked?"

"Bend her over" Cersei demanded without hesitation, cupping your face almost gently as Jaime flipped you on your stomach. "I want to watch your face when he fucks you."

Her words drove another spike of need between your legs as Jaime spread your thighs and thrust into your dripping cunt without preamble. The sudden intrusion made you instantly clench around him and claw at the bedding desperately as he drove into you over and over.

"Look at me." Cersei cooed, watching your eyes dart rapidly trying to find her, "Gods, you look so pretty like this. How does he feel inside of you? What I would give to fuck you like this." Her hands petted your hair, damp and clinging to your neck and forehead with sweat. When she spoke to you like this, it was like the whole world melted away and became an extension of her. Even Jaime, especially Jaime, was just an extension of her and her will. She was the one who was fucking you right now, and it was her who made the muscles in your core snap as waves of pleasure washed over you.

When your body began to spasm under him, Jaime could only hold back long enough to pull out as quickly as he possibly could, coating your ass and back with ropes of cum. His weight collapsed on top of you for a moment, both of you breathing heavy. Both of you feeling like you'd been fucked by someone who hadn't even touched you.

Cersei rose up off the bed and tossed a rag at Jaime before leaning over you again, peppering soft kisses over your still sensitive skin.

"Good girl, sweet girl, how wonderful you've been for me." she purred.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister x reader #game of thrones smut #jaime lannister smut #Cersei lannister smut #Her Grace's Handmaiden

[damn-stark]

Chapter 9 Travesty

Chapter 9 of Sandstorm

A/N- GET READY!!!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, ALSO THERES CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW (not big, but there is)

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x04 & 8x05 (only half)

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*2 MONTHS LATER*

“I will not give The Reach to some common sellsword,” Daenerys argues with Tyrion. “It doesn’t matter if he’s won battles or not.”

“The lords of the Reach won’t follow your friend, nor can we actually allow him to have HighGarden,” you defend her argument. “He’s not loyal, he knows nothing about leading a house.”

“Neither did any of our ancestors,” Tyrion tries to input.

You narrow your gaze on him. “No, but we aren’t talking about them are we?” You spat. “If it’s true that he’ll have your head if you don’t give him what you owe him, then he may come and face the wrath of the dragons. We’re not giving him the Reach.”

Tyrion glances at Daenerys for her opinion, and she sighs before giving her answer. “I agree. I won’t. With half of the Iron Fleet destroyed, with the Dornish warriors now at our disposal, we might gain the lead in the war once again. I won’t lose it for some sellsword who has no sense of respect or loyalty.”

Tyrion nods and keeps quiet, letting you continue.

“Beside,” you continue to add. “The Reach and HighGarden deserve to go to someone loyal, someone who’s lived in the land a long time, someone who knows it, cherishes it.”

Sansa hums and steps towards the table in the middle of the room to interject. “The Hightowers are an old house, but a proud one who pride themselves in their religion. A marriage proposal to them doesn’t sound beneficial. They won’t accept Rhaenar, nor the Queen.”

“But,” you add on after her whilst you place a wooden sun with a chevron over it. “Sansa and I think we can gain the support of House Ashford. They’re an old house, during the rebellion they stayed loyal to House Targaryen, they’re respected. If they accept our offer the other Lords will follow.”

“Furthermore,” you continue as you clasp your hands under your small swollen belly. “The Lord has six children, amongst them is a daughter of only five and ten years old. She's older than Rhaenar,” you sigh, “but she’s still unmatched. So with your permission Queen; Jon, Rhaenar, and I will go on dragonback and present the offer in person for you.”

Daenerys glances at Tyrion across the table for advice. And silently without a word, Tyrion nods before he interjects. “Going in person will show that we care, it’s smart. I would have advised it had you asked me.” He says and shoots you a pointed glare.

You offer him an annoyed side eye before glancing at Jon and offering him an urging nod now that your offer was approved.

“If all are in agreement then…Ser Davos will ride down the Kingsroad with the Northern troops, and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied,” he says and drags wooden pieces down the map. “While the Princess, Prince, and I fly on Eraxis and Rhaegal to the Reach to give our envoy to Lord Ashford. We will then meet up with the troops and accompany overhead.”

You nod in agreement, and Tyrion proceeds to add on to the plans.

“A smaller group of us will ride to White Harbor in the meanwhile and sail from there to Dragonstone with our Queen and Drogon accompanying us from above. Ser Jaime will remain here, as guest of the Lady of Winterfell. Questions?” He asks and looks around the table.

Alas, no one speaks up now, letting the meeting disband and everyone go their separate ways; Daenerys exits the room to get ready to leave, and all her people follow her. Everyone else who had been here, like Ser Brienne, Ser Davos, and Arya leave too, leaving Jon, Sansa, Bran the maester, and you in the room. And while the maester is still here you pull your scroll out of your sleeve and walk to the maester to hand it to him.

“I was hoping you could send this to my sister Sarella, Maester, with secrecy.”

The maester nods in agreement without hesitation and tucks the scroll away in his sleeve. “I’ll do it right away, Princess.” He bows before he walks to Bran to take him out too. You then proceed to turn and face Sansa and Jon who had waited to walk out with you.

“Are you ready to leave, Jon? Or do you need to fix your hair?” You tease him as you fall at his side and walk out of the door.

Sansa giggles at your comment, and that makes you smirk deeper.

“Are you?” He counters. “Or do you still need to finish getting dressed? You tend to take forever choosing a dress to wear.”

You scoff and hook your arm around him, noticing Sansa fall at your other side as you now begin to walk down the hall. “Sansa helped get me dressed today actually.” You beam. “I am actually wearing one of the dresses she made me.” You glance at her and shoot her a sweet smile. “Besides my vanity is important, I need to fit my role as Princess.”

Jon scoffs softly in amusement but smiles sweetly as he studies your dress; noting the long white skirt that just perfectly stopped above your feet so you wouldn’t trip, he looks at the thin gold chains that ran down the front and connected to a choker around your neck; he looks at the warm soft brown fur top that was tight around your torso, letting the small bump shine.

“Does that mean freezing to death,” Jon points out to your exposed shoulders.

“Yes,” you retort.

“Did you wear your armor under your dress like I told you?” Sansa interjects, making you avert your gaze and nod speechlessly.

“Liar,” she quips and grabs your arm to pull you towards her.

You let out a dramatic sigh and groan. “It’s bulky, okay? And it doesn’t let me move freely when I’m on dragonback. I hate wearing armor under my dresses.”

Sansa side eyes you. “You’re carrying my niece and nephew in there…

You grin wide at her assumption.

“…I won’t let you leave unprotected,” she finishes saying. “Tell her Jon.”

“I've tried,” he mumbles in defeat. “Hundreds of times. She doesn’t listen to me.”

You smile and roll your head to the side to try and assure them since they’re being thoughtful. “I am wearing ringmail under this for all of your sakes, so rest assured.”

Sansa sighs and shares a look with her brother. “Well it is better than nothing,” she mutters in annoyance.

The three of you take a turn to walk to the courtyard to fetch Rhaenar. And it’s whilst you’re on the way there that you all run into Daenerys turning into the hall.

“Ah,” she mutters and takes note of the two at your sides before she offers you all a small smile. “I was hoping to run into you y/n before we both left.” She directs at you.

Sansa lets out a small sigh and lets you go to step back. Jon does the same, letting Daenerys join your side, and continue walking with you.

“I was just hoping to ask about your visit with the maester this morning,” she brings up almost hesitantly or timidly you can’t tell, you can just see her averting her gaze and giving you some space. “Is everything all right?”

You nod. “It is,” you assure her. “The babies are well, they’re strong, he says.”

Daenerys snaps her gaze to you and grabs your arm to stop you in your tracks, making the pair behind you stop too—“Babies?” She queries in disbelief.

You can’t help but smile even if you can’t tell if she’s happy or bothered by the news. “Yes,” you confirm. “He felt two heads.” Of course you had known before because of the dream, but you couldn’t be sure until they were older and the maester could confirm it for you.

Regardless, Daenerys offers you a happy smile, but she actually swallows thickly all in the meanwhile. You try to read her eyes, but she masks her emotions well.

“I’m happy for you,” she tells you and meets your gaze very briefly.

“Thank you,” you whisper and hope she really means it. Ever since two months ago when she first found out, you and her have not been the same. Conversations are shorter and stale. She can hardly look at you, and her smiles are always tightlipped. She hardly ever pays you a visit in your quarters to just talk; then again you did move into Jon’s room after you announced that you were married so you understand why she wouldn’t.

“Uh,” you continue in hopes you can find something to gain her trust again. “One baby is actually kicking right now like crazy…do you want to feel?”

Daenerys lets her eyes linger on you for a moment before her smile softens and she reaches her hand for your belly. Since she isn’t pressing on the right spot, you gently take her hand and guide it to the side where one of the babies was.

And right away she gasps and slowly begins to grin with joy as she’s able to feel the soft little nudges from the baby.

“They’ll be a fighter,” she mumbles softly. “They have fire in them.”

You glance at Jon and share a smile, whilst you also begin to feel your own heart at ease. You would have said something Jon said when he first felt the babies kick, but that will probably just upset her so you keep that to yourself and mention something else.

“The second baby is a bit more timid. They only kick at night and keep me awake until late.” You giggle. “But I love feeling the flutters.”

Daenerys keeps her hand on your belly and feels the baby kick for a moment longer—and it’s in that moment that she begins to frown with sadness. She doesn’t say anything in that regard though, nor do you want to push it, so instead you watch her pull her hand away and go serious again as her eyes linger on your belly.

“I wish you luck in your travel,” you tell her as you clasps your hands over your belly. “I will do everything in my power to gain the Reach again.”

Daenerys blinks and meets your gaze again. “I hope you do,” she mutters. “It’s important that you do. Just…be careful, okay?”

You nod and watch her turn the hall to head towards her quarters before you move back in between the Stark siblings and continue towards the courtyard. Once there, you all come to a stop just against the railing as you spot Rhaenar and a boy about his age sparring below.

“Great,” you grumble. “He’s going to be all sweaty now.”

“I think he will be fine,” Jon says.

You shift your eyes to the side and shoot him a pointed glare. “That’s what you say, but he might be meeting his future wife, first impressions matter.”

Jon scoffs and presses his hands against the railing before turning his head to look at you with a smile. “You know when I met you I had been on a boat for a month. I was sweaty too.”

You begin to smile and rebuttal. “We didn’t actually talk, we…shared longing glances. We officially met the day after. After you had a bath and brooded all day.”

Jon smirks. “And you smelled like a dragon,” he counters and stifles his laugh.

You gasp and almost take offense, but quickly find a counter and jab back. “You mean I smelled like a very mystical creature I brought into this world by hatching it? Thank you.”

Jon scoffs and rolls his eyes, choosing to focus back on Rhaenar and the boy below. “Well, I doubt you have much to worry about. He made the girl a flower crown from blue Winter roses.”

You snap your gaze to him and probe right away. “He did?” You ask in disbelief since your son hadn’t told you. “When?”

“Last night. He came to me and asked me for advice.” Jon begins to smile, and you glance at your son below whilst you begin to feel happy that he trusted Jon enough to go for him for girl advice. Albeit it is quite hurtful that he didn’t ask you too….just a bit.

“Well that’s good,” Sansa interjects. “It will distract the lady from his sweat.”

You laugh softly and nod, catching Rhaenar and the boy both notice the three of you watching from the railing. Rhaenar smiles up at you and waves quickly before he focuses back on his friend.

“Come,” Jon cuts in and grabs your hand. “Tormund is below. I want to say goodbye before we go.”

Before you follow him below you turn to Sansa to tell her goodbye too since you will be leaving soon. “I will see you after we take the capital,” you say confidently.

Sansa nods. “We will,” she assures you. “Write to me all right? Be careful too, please.”

You shoot her a grin and nod. “I will.” With one last lingering look you turn around and follow Jon down to the snowy ground to meet up with Tormund.

“Are you riding your dragon South?” Tormund asks as he walks to Jon.

Jon scoffs and nods. “I will try anyway.”

When they meet up halfway Tormund goes serious. “I’m taking the Free Folk home. We’ve had enough of the South. The women down here don’t like me.” He says as he leans towards Jon and you.

You scoff softly in amusement and interject. “You can always go to Dorne, I’m sure you’ll find lots of women there.”

Tormund shrugs. “Too hot. And right now you don’t have time for me. When you have won the war I will take you up on that offer.”

“Please do,” you encourage him.

“This is the North, you know,” Jon corrects Tormund. “And the Free Folk are welcome to stay.”

“It isn’t home,” Tormund says. “We need room to wander. I’ll take them back through Castle Black as soon as the winter storms pass. Back where we belong.”

Jon shifts and looks back. When you follow his line of gaze you see Ghost, his direwolf.

“It’s where he belongs too,” Jon refers to his direwolf. “A direwolf has no place in the south. Will you take him with you?” He looks back to Tormund, and the tall man looks at him. “He’ll be happier up there.”

“So would you,” Tormund counters, making you blink and begin to fiddle with your rings slowly.

“I’m happy here,” Jon says back and glances at you. “With my family. I finally found where I belong.”

Tormund scoffs. “Doesn’t mean you won’t miss it.”

You look to the ground and smile softly.

Jon scoffs and smiles softly. “Perhaps when the twins are born I’ll take them to go see the real North.”

“Aye,” Tormund agrees with a grin. “You will so I can give them giants milk and they can grow big like me.”

Jon and you both chuckle. However, Jon goes serious rather quickly as he remembers what this conversation is about. “This is farewell, then,” Jon says.

Tormund agrees, but adds something else. “You never know.”

They both then give one another an embrace, and when they pull back, Tormund holds onto Jon’s arms and continues to add one last thing. “You’ve got the North in you. The real North.” He lets Jon go and then steps towards you.

“I'll see you again Dragonslayer,” he says and grabs your arm to give it a gentle squeeze. “Protect each other. And you bring those babies up North, they need to know where they come from.”

You offer him a sweet grin and nod. “I will,” you assure him. “You take care all right?”

He nods and offers you a gentle smile before he walks away. You then look over at Jon and notice the sad look in his gaze and grab his arm to pull his attention to you.

Once he looks, you offer him a gentle smile and an assuring squeeze. He mirrors your smile and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards his friend Sam, and Sam’s paramour.

Before anything can be said when you all meet halfway Jon let’s you go and embraces Gilly. However, soon thereafter he pulls back and looks down at her belly in shock.

Did he really not notice? Even with the cloaks she has on her pregnant belly is still noticeable.

“Yes, well, the nights have been getting longer,” Sam interjects, causing you to slowly smile at his unnecessary explanation. “And there wasn’t much to do in Oldtown. There’s only so many books a person can read, so we—”

“I’m sure he knows how it happens, Sam,” Gilly cuts him off before he can practically tell the story of how they made that babe.

It makes you stifle your laugh nevertheless.

“If it’s a boy,” Gilly continues. “We want to name him Jon.”

Your amusement dies at the sound of her comment, and awe replaces it. Yet you notice Jon doesn’t feel the same.

“I hope it’s a girl,” he retorts softly before he gives an embrace to his friend. And while they do so, while they talk, you begin to think about baby names. You haven’t given it too much thought yet. You didn’t want to until a couple more months, but now that Gillys mentioned it you think about it too.

Maybe if one is a girl…Rhaenyra feels like a sweet name. If it’s two girls then the other one can be Rhaena. Just so they can have a similar name since they will be twins. If it’s two boys then, Eddard for one. The second one could be….hm…you’ll have to think about the second one further. Maybe they can have a similar name to one of your uncles?

If it’s one girl and one boy though, Rhaenyra, and Eddard sound nice, sweet.

You smile at the thought, and mindlessly press your hand against your small belly, not realizing Rhaenar had now joined you until he nudges you.

“Mother, I’m ready,” he breaks you from your stupor.

You blink and look down at him, seeing Helios perched on his shoulder, and his weapons sheathed on his back and hip.

“Are you?” You ask with a teasing look as you begin to leave the courtyard now that Jon is done talking with his friends.

Rhaenar nods rapidly. “Yes, I am…” he trails off and pushes his clock back to unhook the blue rose flower crown he had hooked on his sheath belt. “I even have this.” He shows off smugly. “For the lady I might get matched with.”

Your eyes water as he says those words, as you realize he's getting older now, but you manage to hold in your tears and smile sweetly. “I’m sure she’ll love them. It’s very sweet of you.”

Rhaenar’s smirk turns to a timid smile as he hooks it back where it was, letting you now focus on Jon walking by your side.

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

Jon drifts his dark eyes to you and nods softly. “I am…it’s just never easy saying goodbye.”

You hum in agreement. “I understand, but just keep in mind that you’ll see them again. It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever.”

Albeit sometimes for you goodbye was the last thing you got to say to those you loved…

“You’re right,” Jon whispers with a sweet smile.

You shrug and make the conversation lighthearted so his smile would grow. “I always am.”

Jon grins, but quips. “Are you?”

You throw your arm around his and nod with a pointed look directed at him. “I am.”

Jon holds your gaze and smirks at you. “Sometimes.”

You roll your eyes and huff in defeat. “Sure, sure. Anyway!” You change the conversation and look ahead as you walk out the castle gates, noticing now that the grounds outside the walls aren't littered with hundreds of people working like before, now only a few were off to the side fixing the outer walls.

It’s quieter now too. Hauntingly peaceful since the thousands of footsteps on the night of the battle are still marked on the dirt ground, leaving nothing but memories of what happened before.

“I thought of baby names when Gilly mentioned hers,” you continue excitedly.

“Ah, did you? Just now?” Jon queries.

You hold onto him tighter and nod. “I did. Of course they aren’t official, just ideas, so you can still think of them.” You let out an excited sigh and share your ideas. “For girls I have Rhaenyra, and the other one can be Rhaena.”

“They go together,” Rhaenar points out. “And they go with my name too.”

You glance down at him and nod. “They do,” you assure him happily. “The main choice will be Rhaenyra if it’s one girl though. I like the name, and admire one woman who bore it.” You smile and glance ahead again. “But anyway, it’s the boy name I can’t think of, I only have one…Eddard. Again you can share your own thoughts, Jon.” You glance at him, and when you meet his gaze you see the soft awed look in his eyes at the mention of his fathers name.

“You’d like that?” He questions.

You hum in agreement, and only see his gaze soften much more.

“I’ll have to think of some names,” Jon says to you. “I’ll have to get back to you about that.”

“It’s okay, you have time.”

“What about you, Rhaenar?” Jon involves him.

Rhaenar runs up the snowy hill to spin around and face the both of you. “Hm, well I quite like Rhaenyra. And I also like Daemon for a boy! Just like the Rogue prince, Daemon who rode Caraxes the Blood Wyrm! Daemon was legendary, he’s one of my hero’s!” He exclaims and spins back around. “Visenya was incredible too! But my mother is already named that, so…maybe Daeron, or Jaehaerys. There’s too many. I’ll make a list.”

You share a soft laugh at his enthusiasm, and find Eraxis beginning to walk down the hill where they had been perched. So you peel away from Jon and run to her to quickly embrace her snout since that’s all you can actually manage to get your arms around.

“<Hello my beautiful girl,>” you greet her and feel her scales under your touch as you caress her.

Eraxis, out of excitement spreads her wings out and nudges herself closer to you.

“<Yes I missed flying with you too.>” You whisper and grin brightly.

“What if Rhaegal doesn’t want me to ride him anymore?” Jon cuts off your moment with your dragon, making you pull back to see that Rheagal had walked down to meet up with him too. “What if it was a one time thing?”

You scoff softly and slowly jog to them. “Well there’s only one way to secure a bond with a dragon.” You grab Jon’s arm, pulling his gaze to you. You smile, and find his lips tempting up close so you lean in and kiss him whilst you stretch his arm out.

“Repeat after me,” you whisper against his lips a bit smugly. “<Serve me, Rhaegal,>” you share what you had read in journals and books of your ancestors and their dragons. “He already let you ride him. Approval from his mother or not Dragons are special creatures, he probably would’ve burnt you or dropped you…”

“How assuring,” Jon mumbles, making Rhaenar giggle.

“I’m sure he'll listen,” you continue, “just tell him what I told you in Valyrian.” You step back and Jon seems hesitant to watch you step back, but you shoot him a wink and watch from up close.

Jon lets out a deep sigh, and keeps his eyes lingering on you for a few more seconds just to take you in in case this is his last moment of life. He then proceeds to blink and looks back at the green dragon that has his eyes on Jon already.

Jon keeps his hand out and parts his lips to let out a small breath.

“What happens if he doesn’t bond with Rhaegal?” Rhaenar asks quietly.

You shrug as you keep your eyes on Jon and the green dragon. “I don’t know. Maybe he gets burnt or eaten?”

Jon snaps his head over as if he heard and retorts. “What?”

You shoot him an assuring smile and shake your head. “Nothing, love, just do it!”

Jon sighs and once again looks at Rheagal. This time he says the words. “<Serve me, Rhaegal,>” he butchers those words but he manages to make them sound somewhat coherent.

“Yes,” you exclaim and hold your hands up in anticipation of what would happen next. “Good.”

Rheagal leans his head closer to Jon and blinks slowly, as if trying to take in the person in front of him. Jon proceeds to slowly drop his hand, and glances at you. Rhaegal then lets out a soft whine and presses his snout against Jon, managing to push him back since he’s so big.

“Did it work?” Jon asks in confusion.

Of that you’re unsure, but he’s not being burnt alive, or getting eaten, so yes?

“Well,” you share your thoughts and walk to Jon. “You’re not being burnt right now, so I’ll say it did. I think he wants you to pet him.” You point out and watch Rhaegal stay pressed against Jon.

Jon lets out a nervous breath and pulls his glove off to carefully press his hand against the green scaled snout.

“When you want him to fly just say, <fly>,” you share that last bit in High Valyrian. “If he’s bonded to you he’ll listen without needing his mother closeby.”

“<Fl?>” Jon mispronounces the word.

You grin. “<Fly>” You pronounce.

“<Fly.>” He repeats slowly.

You clap and nod. “Yes! Exactly good! Now let’s go.” You shoot him one last smile before you spin around on your heels and walk to your dragon's side. “Come, Rhaenar, you’ll ride with me.”

“Aww, I wish Helios was big enough,” he whines.

You carefully step on Eraxis' foot and grab one of her horns. “Soon, my little Sunspot, don’t pout.” You climb up finally after two months, and feel your heart pumping fast at the thought of flying again. Gods know how you missed that feeling. The sight of the sky above the clouds. The fresh crisp air. That chill as you’re flying in the air. That freedom.

Nevertheless, once you’re on your saddle and Rhaenar is sitting behind you you turn around to help him get strapped on, but realize in that moment that you haven’t fixed your broken leg strap.

“Damn,” you grumble. “I forgot to fix it.” You let out a deep sigh and sit up straight up to face your son. “Just strap on one, I’ll fix the other one soon.”

Rhaenar nods and finishes strapping the one strap around his leg to secure himself on your saddle.

“Do I say it now?!” You hear Jon shout.

You snap your head around to face him, and catch him on Rhaegal’s bareback holding on for dear life even if they haven’t moved from the ground. “If you’re ready, yes!” You reply, and hold onto your handles as you keep your eyes on him.

“Okay,” Jon breathes out and looks down at Rhaegal. “<Fly, Rhaegal.>”

And without hesitation the dragon runs ahead a bit before flapping his big green wings and setting off, causing you to grin from excitement, and admiration to seeing Jon on that dragon; on the dragon he’s now bonded with.

Seeing him flying gets you excited and eager, so you too say those same words and fly after them.

——

*LATER*

The winds of winter were a familiar greeting once your feet hit the grass ground, but it’s the land, the castle that’s the stranger now.

“It was a much longer ride this time, how was it?” You ask Jon as you begin to walk down the green hill.

Jon sighs and shrugs softly. “Better than when I rode him during battle. And well you are right…flying is liberating.”

You share a short gaze and a small smile that gets pushed away by the sight of the upcoming White Castle standing below the green hill.

From above the sky the castle seemed relevantly small, the blue pointed roofs seemed short, as well as the tall towers. And their small garden of trees was its most outshining thing within the castle, then again it seems that way because most of the trees were dead due to the cold weather, most; the greenery still hangs on to the branches of the giant cypress trees.

Those same trees aligned the Kingsroad that you’re approaching, they’re neatly shaped adding elegance to the already white grande castle that had its gate covered by luscious greenery, and pink and white flowers that seem to sprout during the winter. The walls around the castle walls were blanketed by twisting vines too. It was really enchanting actually.

Yet that enchantment is soon destroyed due to the marching guards that hesitantly come out of the gate holding the house flag.

They stop just outside the gate and wait for Jon, Rhaenar and you to get close to address you all. “Halt there!”

Their eyes hidden behind their helmets wander around the space behind you, they lift to the sky and search for the beasts you flew on. Once they weren’t visible one of them stepped forward, lifted its visor and showed off dull green eyes.

“Who goes there?!”

Jon and you share a short knowing gaze before you step forward and announce yourselves. “Princess…Visenya Targaryen….” It adds a sour taste to your mouth, saying the name your parents gave you, but it’s the name that most of the older people know you as. “…daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen. With me are my husband Lord Jon Snow, Warden of the North, and my son Prince Rhaenar Targaryen…”

The guard's eyes drift to your son, and then the orange dragon perched on his shoulder. He swallows thickly and stiffens whilst he looks back at you.

“…We’ve come to seek an audience with your Lord Ashford.”

The guard blinks and drifts his gaze to Jon behind you, as if asking for permission from him first.

It’s such a common thing, getting overlooked by both men and women in these parts of Westeros, even beyond the Narrow Sea. You’ve grown used to the cold treatment. Yet it still doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking bother you getting overlooked, especially when you’re higher ranked than Jon. Luckily Jon doesn’t say anything or do anything to answer the man, he makes the guard look back at you.

“Right this way,” the man says and turns stiffly on his heels, causing the other guards behind him to part to the side to let the three you pass by and follow the guard inside.

Once past the outer gate you’re welcomed with a long garden that seems to stop feet away from the entrance of the castle. It’s absolutely beautiful, it’s surrounded by tall green hedges. As you pass the archways that let you inside the garden you see more Cypress trees, you can spot a fountain that holds stone statues of women. There’s benches, and more fountains past the archways, albeit the second one doesn’t hold statues, just water.

“Gods,” you mumble to Jon and Rhaenar, “it’s beautiful here. Imagine this garden in the Spring and Summer.”

“Imagine it when it’s covered by a blanket of snow,” Jon says.

You hum and smile softly at the thought. “That would be beautiful,” you whisper. Now you reach the last archway on the hedge and peek in, catching a third fountain hold statues on the water too, but these statues aren’t just women, they’re statues of The Seven….It’s impressive.

“Wait here,” the guard cuts you off from your awe and pulls your gaze back to him a few feet away from the gates. “I’ll inform the Lord and Lady of your presence.”

You nod in comprehension and watch him walk in, noticing the other guards that had been following behind you march ahead and stay guard in front of the door.

Now however that you’re waiting is when it hits you, the fear and anxiety that make your heart race. No amount of training can actually prepare you for meeting other lords to sway them so that they follow your cause, so that they’ll give their children’s hand in marriage to your own son. Sure if you told Jon to do the talking he would, but it’s you that needed to talk for Daenerys, for yourself.

“I really hope he gets convinced,” you interject and look at Jon by your side.

Jon glances at you and sighs softly before he shifts around to face you. “He will, you’ll convince him. I know you will.”

You turn and face him too, feeling him grab your hands to cradle them in his for comfort.

“Listen to them too,” he says, “just how you tried to listen to me.”

You let out a soft huff and smile timidly.

“I believe in you,” he assures you and pulls one hand away from yours to cup your cheek and pull you in to press a kiss on your lips.

“Look,” Rhaenar cuts in, making you pull away and follow to what he’s pointing to.

That’s when you see three young brunette girls peeking behind the tall glass windows. They notice that you all caught them and seem to smile before quickly disappearing.

“Do you think one of them will be the Lady I’ll be married to,” Rhaenar wonders.

You drop your gaze to look at him and shrug. “Perhaps. What do you think of them?”

Rhaenar blinks and meets your curious gaze. “Well it’s hard to tell since they’re up high and behind glass.”

“Princess, My Lord Snow,” a voice gains your attention, making you look to the opened doors where the main guard now stands. “Right this way, the Lord and Lady Ashford are ready for you.”

Rhaenar lets out a deep nervous breath and glances at you once before he glances at his dragon on his shoulder, and then begins to follow you inside at your side with his chin up and his back straight.

You’re quite nervous too so you keep holding one of Jon’s hands as the guard guides you to the main hall inside the main tower—And just like the outside, the inside of the castle is marvelous too; there's high ceilings, glass chandeliers that twinkle as the light reflects off them. Beautiful stone floors that have a sun carved on them.

Yet the hall isn’t even for the most impressive part, it’s the main room that’s impressive. It’s bright thanks to all the tall windows that are against the walls; it’s almost like a glass room. And there’s tall vases of white flowers that align the pathway to the throne made of dark wood, making the room smell of flowers.

Nevertheless, just on the platform that the throne sits on are those same ladies that had been at the window; there's a set of twins that seem to be around maybe seven and ten wearing long yellow dresses, and at their side just at the edge of the platform is a younger girl, her hair is brown, long and straight, her eyes are dark, black perhaps, she wears a pink dress and sweet smile that lets a dimple show. Across from her is a young man, short but lean, his hair is long and wavy, brown like all the others from his family, he has blue eyes albeit and no welcoming smile; he must be the Lord's heir.

“Princess, Prince, Lord,” a gravelly voice greets, pulling your gaze to the throne to see a short bald plump man on his feet. “Welcome to Ashford.” He bows, and his wife behind him, and the children all curtsy and bow as well. Which is quite surprising considering you’re on “enemy” territory.

“I am Lord Ben Ashford,” he continues, and turns to point at his wife with the same dark eyes as the daughters. “My Wife, Lizbeth Ashford.”

The tall lady gives you a curtsy, so you offer her a sweet smile.

“My twin daughters, Anna and Belle,” he says and points to the girls in their yellow dresses.

You want to laugh at the irony of their names, but you hold it in and look to the last daughter he points to.

“My youngest, Melina…”

Ah, so she’s the girl you want Rhaenar to marry. She seems nice.

Jon and you both look at Rhaenar and smile faintly before looking at the boy who is the Lord’s heir, but don’t pay much mind to him, so he’s done introducing him you let out a small breath and speak. “I am sorry for the surprise visit, Lord Ashford, but I didn’t want to put your family at risk if the Raven was caught.”

He hums and shakes his head. “I understand,” he assures you. “The Kingdom is at war.” He hums and tilts his head. “The last time the Kingdom was at war you were but a babe…”

You blink in surprise and gasp softly.

“It was such a nasty war,” he continues. “I’m sorry for your losses. For the tragedy your family suffered…those poor children were innocent.”

You swallow thickly and nod softly.

“Yet…last I heard beside all the latest news, was that you died when the Lannisters sacked the city.”

You let out a deep sigh and hold his gaze without faltering. “It was said, yes, but I was saved that night by a gold cloak who had served the King. I was the only one he could save, by the time he wanted to save my mother and siblings it was too late, the beast that killed them had found them first. In order to keep me safe, my family, The Martell’s hid me in Sunspear and kept my identity a secret.”

He hums and glances out the window before focusing on you again. “I would have been hesitant to believe your word, but I saw those dragons, we all saw those dragons you flew in with. I would be a fool not to believe you now, so Princess why is it that you’ve come to visit?”

There’s no need longing the topic. Especially not when you’re needed back on Dragonstone. So with one last glance at Jon, you take one step forward and share the envoy. “On behalf of Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, I have come here to share an offer. You served House Targaryen faithfully until the King died. It’s for that loyalty that we ask for your swords, and your undying loyalty most importantly. In return we offer the title of Warden of the South, and Lord of HighGarden, if it pleases you.”

The heir gasps and snaps his head to his father.

“You’re an old house that’s stood in the reach for centuries,” Jon steps forward to interject. “You know your lands better than anyone, you know the people and history. We would want no one else.”

You look at Jon from the corner of your eyes and shoot him a thankful smile before focusing back on the Lord. You watch him take a step down slowly and put his hands behind him. He takes another step down and sighs, and when he reaches the floor you stand on he stops and looks at you with a pointed look.

“You ask me and the rest of the Reach to betray the crown?” He asks in a deep voice.

You swallow thickly and nod. “The Queen who sits on the throne now is doing nothing but losing money, letting her people starve. She’s weak now without her father, without her family, a weak ruler only serves to spoil everyone else. What happens when a flower spoils?”

“Withers,” the Lord answers. “Dies and turns to nothing.”

“Exactly, it would be a shame to lose your house and the Reach, Lord Ashford.” You continue to press with confidence now gleaming in your eyes. “That's why we came with our offer. If you accept, you won’t only save your family, but the entirety of the Reach.”

“My swords, and my crops I assume for the title of Warden?” He questions with a perplexed gaze.

Yes, truly there’s no need for a marriage pact, but it would be to his benefit, and a security for you too.

“Not only that but a marriage pact,” you reveal now. “My son, the Queen’s heir, Prince Rhaenar Targaryen, to your youngest daughter, the Lady Melina.”

Said girl's eyes go wide and fill with shock, whilst the mother fills with disbelief and sadness; which is understandable, you’re sad to marry off your son.

Nevertheless, the Lord looks to your son and then at Jon, probably noting that they look nothing alike and realizing what Rhaenar truly is, a bastard. Yet he says nothing about it, for one the boy is that, a man, they don’t shame bastard sons the same way as girls or those of low birth. And two, it would be disrespectful if he did point it out.

“A Queen,” he mumbles. “You would make my daughter a Queen?”

You nod. “If you accept yes.”

Lady Melina takes a careful step forward and bores her eyes on her father as if demanding with her look alone to accept the offer.

“My son is almost 11, but if you accept then the marriage would happen when he comes of age,” you add.

Lord Ashford looks back to his daughter looking at him with hope, and then looks to his wife to share one knowing look. When he looks back at you he remains serious for a moment before his lips begin to lift to a smile.

“I accept,” he assures you, letting you finally breathe properly. “On behalf of the Reach, and myself we accept your offer, Princess. It gladdens me that a Targaryen once again will sit on the Throne.”

You begin to grin happily and share that happiness with Jon and your son.

“On behalf of Queen Daenerys, and myself, thank you my Lord,” you curtsy and shoot him a beaming grin. “Thank you.”

The Lord nods and then looks back at his daughter getting shaken by her sisters out of excitement to what will be her future. “Melina, come,” he says.

You look at Rhaenar, and he meets your gaze, letting you point your head ahead so he’ll step forward.

He sighs shakily, and then looks over at Jon.

Jon shoots him an assuring look that lets the boy take a few forward towards the young Lady now beside her father.

“Hello,” she greets.

Rhaenar bows his head and then pulls out the Winter Rose flower crown to show it off to her. “It’s for you, my Lady,” he says in a timid voice. “Blue Winter Roses, they’re the most beautiful in the world, well they were…you seem to outmatch their beauty.”

You stifle your laugh and share a teasing look with Jon. He albeit shares a smug look with you. Was he the one who told him to say that?

“Thank you, Prince Rhaenar,” Lady Melina says and crouches slightly so Rhaenar can put the flower crown on her head. Once she stands up to her given height Helios, leans forward and tilts his head to study the girl before Rhaenar.

“This is my dragon Helios,” Rhaenar says. “He’s only a hatchling now, but soon he will be big enough to ride. When the time comes you can ride him with me too. The skies above the clouds are the most beautiful in the world.”

Lady Melina giggles. “I will look forward to those days then.”

Rhaenar nods and turns to walk back to your side.

“Will you join us for lunch?” The Lord asks. “To celebrate our alliances?”

Jon and you share a speechless look, and without needing to converse Jon answers for you. “That sounds great, we still have a long flight ahead of us.”

——

*LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

Half of what remained of the Iron Fleet surprise attacked the Queen's fleet and captured Missandei; Daenerys' most trusted advisor and best friend.

They knew how much Missandei meant to the Queen since they have no one else to hold over her, no kids, no siblings. She has you, but Cersei knows not to mess with you; she needed someone who wouldn’t bring her immediate demise, so she got sweet Missandei, and…killed her in front of Daenerys instead of giving her surrender.

A stupid mistake. Three dragons against a scared army; An upside to this sudden stoop.

Yet, by seeing Lord Varys waiting on the beach for Jon, Rhaenar, and you to climb off your dragons, it seems like there’s only more bad news to come.

“The Northern armies?” Is the first thing Lord Varys asks the moment you all walk over to him.

“Just crossed the Trident,” Jon shares. “They’ll be at the walls of Kings Landing in two days.”

Lord Varys hums and then looks to you. “Congratulations on securing the Reach, my Princess.”

My princess? Hm. Okay?

You sigh nonetheless, and continue walking towards the castle. “Thank you, Lord Varys. It seems it wasn’t as hard as I thought, not only because we had a lot to offer Lord Ashford, but Cersei doesn’t have any love in the Kingdoms.”

“All we need now is the Westerlands. Which won’t be so hard now, even if Cersei is a Lannister,” Lord Varys says.

You hum and look up at the castle as Daenerys' well-being comes to mind. “How is she?”

“She hasn’t seen anyone since we returned,” Lord Varys says, making Rhaenar curious enough to slow down and listen in as well. “Hasn’t left her chambers, hasn’t accepted any food.”

You let out a deep breath and retort. “Missandei was her best friend, she’s grieving. She shouldn't be alone.”

“You worried for her,” Lord Varys adds, as if it isn’t obvious why. “I admire your empathy.”

“She’s my aunt, my friend,” you quip. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”

“I’m worried for all of us,” he interjects, making Jon and you share a confused look. “They say every time a Targaryen is born the Gods toss a coin and the world holds its breath.”

A stupid belief made up by people who don’t know what ruling really is.

“We’re not much for riddles where I'm from,” Jon interjects to try and understand what he means.

“We three know what she’s about to do,” Lord Varys continues, causing you to stop in your tracks, and making the others walking at your side to do the same.

When Rhaenar does it though, you turn to him. “Rhaenar, why don’t you go on ahead, hm? Get settled, maybe go give your aunt your sympathy, yes?”

Rhaenar hesitates as he wants to keep listening to what you’re all talking about, but he doesn’t argue and goes on to do as you asked.

“We’re at war Lord Varys,” you mutter with displeasure once Rhaenar is out of earshot. “We can't just sit and do nothing. If the Queen wants to act, we act, it’s her decision to make, she is our Queen.” You turn and face the man with a narrowed gaze.

Lord Varys stays nonchalant and responds. “Men decide where power resides, whether or not they know it.”

Jon steps forward and snaps, “what do you want?”

“All I ever wanted,” Lord Varys says and looks between Jon and you. “The right ruler on the Iron Throne.”

You blink in disbelief and shake your head slowly.

Why is this getting brought up again? Daenerys is harsh, but isn’t every ruler? They need to be so. So why is it a problem now? Why want you to betray her?

“I still don’t know how her coin has landed,” Lord Varys continues. “But I’m quite certain about the both of yours.”

You drop your gaze, and let out a deep frustrated breath and share an annoyed look with Jon before focusing on the man before you to counter. “She’s my aunt, Lord Varys, my Queen. You speak of betrayal. Why?” You ask. “She’s done nothing wrong, not yet. She may be harsh, but what ruler hasn’t been? I won’t betray her for something I don’t want, for something neither of us want.”

“I have known more Kings and Queens than any man living,” he rebuttals. “I’ve heard what they say to crowds, and seen what they do in the shadows. I have furthered their designs, however horrible.” He shakes his head. “But what I tell you now is true. You both come from great houses, and have been raised by good people, you are both loved by many. You will rule wisely and well, while she—”

“Stop,” you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “She is your Queen. Let us speak of this no longer.” You grab Jon’s hand and break away from your spot together.

Yet before you can go far, Lord Varys stops you with the right words. “I saved you from the fate that awaited you in your quarters that night, I sent that man to save you those years back…gods know I wanted to save the others…”

You gasp and stiffen.

“…but fate had a hand at saving you. You. Will you really let their deaths mean nothing? She speaks of Destiny, but it is your true birthright, your fate. Do you really think she will let those children you carry inside you live?”

Jon snaps around and takes a long stride towards the man. “You keep my children out of your mouth, Lord Varys.”

“Think about it, Lord Snow,” Lord Varys continues, knowing Jon won't do anything. “Do you want your wife and your children to suffer the same fate y/n’s mother and siblings did?”

You slowly grab your small swollen belly and continue to stand there in disbelief and tears gleaming in your eyes. He’s not right. Even if Daenerys was angry for what fate brought Jon and you, she’d never do that. She’s not a monster.

Why can’t they see that? She’s not a bad person. She’s just…she just needs guidance.

“Y/N,” Jon calls out as you make your way inside the castle. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You huff out. “How dare he bring up my mother? How dare he use their deaths, my vulnerability about them against me?” You grumble and quicken your pace. “He’s, he’s…” you groan out in frustration and stop to take a deep breath. “Why,” you mutter. “Why do they want me to betray her? Sansa, Arya, him? What has she done wrong? People die all the time, Lord Tarley was a cause of war. He didn’t want to bend the knee so he had to die, and the son…I,” you pause and shake your head. “Aegon the Conqueror did the same thing and he gets praised for it, so,” you stammer out instead of continuing your previous comment. “So why judge her? Why be angry at her?”

You hear Jon come to stop behind you, you hear his deep sigh before you feel his gloved hand on your arm.

“They just don’t understand,” Jon says and turns you around so you’ll face him. “Leaders must make hard decisions. Decisions some won’t like. And Sansa is just angry it will pass, with time she’ll see what you see in Daenerys.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod softly as his words assure you. Yet there’s still that thorn, that fear that was getting fed more and more. “And the babies…Jon? Varys knows about you,” you mention now that you’ve settled down. “I try not to, but I know he’s right. I know Daenerys is right as well, about the baby's claims.” Tears gleam in your eyes. “Jon….If the realm finds out they will try and press their claims, not Rhaenar’s, not mine, there’s.”

Jon grabs your face with both hands. “I will tell you again what I have told you before, I will not let anything happen to our children. Not her or anyone else. I will not let them try and control them. They will be fine. You will be fine. And if…anything happens…we can leave to the North. To Dorne. We can go far, I won’t let them take my family away. I won’t let them hurt you, my love.” He then pulls you in for an embrace and holds you tightly.

You hold onto him almost like you’re afraid to let go, you close your eyes and nuzzle your head in his neck.

“Talk to her,” he whispers. “She needs you now. You might be the only one who can talk to her.”

It might also work in your favor considering her cold shoulder.

However, once you reach the meeting quarters where she’s in, you hesitate to even knock on the doors out of that…fear you don’t want to actually feel towards her. One you can’t help, and one that has been in the back of your head since you found out about the babies.

But that’s it isn’t? They want you to doubt her, but it’s not true, she’s not that person…you can’t let yourself be convinced by them. So you knock on the door and wait.

Yet you get no response, so you slowly open the door regardless and poke your head in, seeing her standing at the other side of the room staring out at the ocean past the high balcony. Her hair isn’t braided back or brushed like how she wears it. She’s not dressed in a big dress, she’s unkept.

“Dany,” you mumble and walk in slowly.

Said woman sighs and looks at you over her shoulder with an upset frown. You close the door behind you and slowly walk in closer to her, noticing now the eyebags under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Tyrion was just in here,” she cuts to the chase and turns to face you. “Someone’s betrayed me.”

You stop a few feet away and clasps your hands together to wait for who she’d say in case she was told the wrong person.

“Varys,” she reveals.

You drop your gaze and sigh deeply.

“You knew?” She asks as she immediately detects your hesitation to react.

You nod stiffly. “He….talked to me just as I arrived…” you look up at her and meet her gleaming gaze. “He spoke of betrayal.”

If no one knows who Jon really is, no one presses your children’s claim, no one tries to push Daenerys from her throne and she won’t have to—They might be safe.

That’s why you say it with ease now, Varys' betrayal.

“He wanted me to betray you,” you reveal and clench your jaw.

Daenerys steps down and looks into your eyes in case she sees doubt, and even if you feel fear, and…an inkling of doubt that does make you hesitate, you don’t show it to her because you have to believe she’s good.

“I know you told the others to keep quiet, but you can’t blame them,” you try to talk her out of her anger towards Sansa, since she was the one who couldn’t keep quiet. “Varys is the only one to blame, he wants to press Jon’s claim as well as mine, over yours. The others just shared the news but did nothing. You understand?”

Daenerys swallows thickly and narrows her eyes. “I told you that I didn’t want his secret revealed. I gave you a second chance after you kept secrets from me. And I’ve come to find out now that everyone in my court knows.”

There she goes. You try so hard to defend her against all they say about her, and she goes to say this shit. Yes she’s angry, but this…can’t go on.

“I can’t control them,” you argue as you furrow your brows. “I can’t control Sansa, nor the other Starks. Jon told them because they’re his family, it wasn’t my choice. Yes, I supported him and his choice because he’s my husband. If you want someone to be angry at, blame Varys. Not me, not Jon, and not Sansa. Varys and him alone. But,” you scoff. “If it’s me you want to be angry at then…” you hesitate. “I can’t control you. I just hope you know that I support you, I love you.”

Daenerys clenches her jaw and her breath trembles. She holds your gaze for a few seconds before she averts your gaze and queries. “What is it you think we need to do about Varys?”

You let out a small sigh and answer without hesitance. “Have him meet a traitor's end.” You lift your chin and gently stroke your swollen belly with your thumb.

Daenerys hums and walks to the fireplace to watch the flames dance. She stays quiet, and remains…grief stricken and angry.

You know how that feels. You understand that pain, so you drop the tension that was just built and walk towards her slowly.

“Daenerys,” you call softly. “I’m sorry about Missandei,” you whisper and stop just a bit before her to gently grab her arm. “She was good. I’m sorry you lost her.”

Daenerys draws in a deep breath and closes her eyes as she’s hit with more pain. She sighs deeply, and opens her eyes to glance at you with a watery gaze.

And right now for the first time in a few months she left herself vulnerable to you, she let you see her cry, and let her shoulders fall. She lets you pull you in for an embrace, and returns it tightly.

You smile softly and clutch onto her tighter.

“If it’s a counter move you want to do, I support it,” you tell her, making her pull back to meet your gaze. “We can’t let Cersei think she has the upper hand. We can’t let her get away with it.”

Daenerys sniffles and begins to smirk.

“We can’t hurt the people though,” you continue. “They’re innocent, they’re just a product of bad ruling, so our war is not against them, it’s solely against her.”

Daenerys turns away from you to add her suggestion. “Her brother, and lover, Jaime.”

Your own smirk falters and you begin to shake your head, but she interjects with more.

“We caught him trying to sneak past our lines, he was going back to her. We kill him in front of her and she’ll lose that smirk on her face.”

One man, it’s just one man—But it’s exactly because she loves him, or cares for him that you can’t kill him! You still need him as a pawn against her. Yes, that's it.

“No,” you cut her off. “Not him. If she cares about him then we can use him against her. I just need to talk to him.”

Daenerys squints slightly and investigates why you sound so insistent on helping him from a fate she thought he deserved. “Why would he listen to you?”

You want to smile out of pride for what you want to say, but you notice her pointed gaze and just answer seriously. “He…sort of swore fealty to me. I say sort of because he just promised to make up for the promises he broke.”

Daenerys' gaze hardens, and her eyes drop to hide her glare.

“And what a great job he's doing,” she quips.

You sigh and nod. “Yes, I understand it doesn’t look good, but I’ll talk to him.” You lower your gaze to try and read hers, but she quickly looks up unfazed.

“Fine, but that won’t stop us from striking,” she makes clear.

“I know,” you assure her. “I’m with you. We will make the city surrender. we will win this war.” You grab her hands and cup them gently.

Daenerys lifts her chin and swallows thickly before she nods stiffly. “Fire and blood,” she says with a very faint smirk.

You smile slowly and nod. “Fire and blood,” you repeat. Daenerys' smile falters, but she nods, not letting you see what she truly thought.

“Talk to Ser Jaime,” she deadpans. “Only you.”

You pull your hands away and nod. You leave her chambers blinded with hope that she took in your words and listened, that she cherished your comfort. You believe it, and keep believing that she isn’t a monster others paint her out to be. You believe she won’t be the threat that you fear.

You believe it all blindly in that moment because she’s your family. Even after she had told you to paint the babies as bastards, even after that threat you can’t—you don’t want to think of her any other way. Because if you did then…

——

*LATER. KINGS LANDING*

“<I want to talk to the prisoner,>” you tell the unsullied guard posted in front of the tent that they had chained Ser Jaime in.

The guard nods stiffly and steps aside, letting the others do the same and clear a path towards the tent. Once inside you see him there sat against a post, looking quite pathetic you have to admit.

“Lady Sansa says that you and Ser Brienne have made quite the pair,” you make yourself known. “It would be a travesty that you broke her heart.”

Jaime slowly peers over his shoulder as best as he can, and right away you catch his surprise.

You walk around him slowly to stand before him, and he follows you with his eyes.

“I’d grab a seat for you, but well,” he sighs dramatically and drops his gold hand against the ground.

You draw in a deep breath and keep piercing your unamused glare into him. “You know,” you interject as you grab a seat and sit across from him. “I really wanted to trust you. I mean who goes all the way North to fight the dead after his Queen said he was spared from fighting that war? A stupid man, or a rather brave one. I wanted you to keep your promise, truly,” you scoff and shake your head. “But here you are.”

Jaime sighs and drops his head. “Here I am. Have you come to kill me?”

You cross your leg over the other and shrug. “Eraxis is out there, waiting for me, one word and she’d eat you leaving only that horrible golden hand left behind.”

Jaime scoffs. “As far as deaths go, getting eaten by a dragon wouldn’t be so terrible.”

You smile softly and laugh. “I suppose not.”

Jaime snaps his eyes up at the sound of your laugh and doesn’t know whether to be proud or scared that you laughed.

Nevertheless, you go serious before he can decide.

“What are you doing here, Ser Jaime?” You ask. “Are you going back to her?”

Jaime slowly rolls his head up to meet your gaze, and exhales deeply. “I suppose the answer is quite difficult.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Jaime swallows thickly and whispers. “I love her.”

So you’ve been told. Yet you can’t have much say in that anymore considering….

“She says she’s carrying another child,” he continues, making you sit up and blink in surprise. “I want to save her. But on the other hand I know that can’t happen, Cersei walked into her own death and there isn’t anything I can do about it. There isn’t anything I want to do about it,” he whispers. “Kings Landing may be a shitty place, but…the people don’t deserve what can unfold because of her stubbornness and pride.” He licks his lips, throws his hands out and huffs out.

“So that’s where the problem lies, Princess.” He continues and drops his hands. “Do I betray the women that I love, do I betray my family? Or do I betray the thousands of people in this city, and my oath?”

“Well,” you sigh and hold his gaze with a pitiful look. Not because you are now moved by his words, you won’t tell him to spare her or risk people’s lives so he can live some fantasy with her, but it’s his own struggle that you pity. It’s one you never want to struggle with.

“You know what my answer will be, Ser Jaime,” you say. “I just hope you can make the right choice and help me capture her. Not for me, but for the lives you swore to protect. Because I may not want to admit it…” you pause and hesitate. “But…I know what Daenerys is capable of, I know what Cersei is capable of. And if capturing Cersei from the castle helps avoid the bloodshed of innocents shouldn’t we take that?”

Ser Jaime tilts his head slightly and looks into your eyes for a moment before he smirks. “You’re much wiser than your father ever was, has anyone ever told you that?”

You scoff and shake your head. “No, but I’m glad you did.” You smirk faintly for a second before you go serious again. “Ser Jaime, I don’t want to kill you, I don’t want to see Daenerys kill you. Maybe there are bad things that you have done in your life, yes, but as far as people go, you aren’t such a bad person. You’re one of the good ones, Ser Jaime.”

Said man looks at you with disbelief before he drops his head and scoffs.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you continue and stand up from your seat to get closer to him. “I can’t imagine what it will feel like, nor do I want to ever feel it. But you are one of the only people who can get close to her. You may be here, she may have taken that as a betrayal, but if she loves you then at the end of the day, she won’t renounce you. Giving me the chance to end the war there by taking her and letting the city surrender.”

There’s silence, deafening silence that makes you grow nervous over what he might say, and if he might make that promise to you.

“It’s kind of poetic isn’t it? Funny?” He interjects and keeps his head down. “That I have to face this choice again?” He forces a small laugh and slowly lifts his head up. “I will do it. I’ll help you, I’ll help these people.”

You sigh in relief and crouch down to be at his eye level now. “Thank you,” you tell him softly.

Jaime shakes his head and queries, “why are you so kind to me now? I don’t get it.”

“Well,” you mutter and begin to fiddle with your rings. “You did save my life, my children’s life.” You smile faintly. “That has to be worth an attempt at forgiveness?”

“No,” he argues. “It shouldn’t after the pain I caused you, but…I am thankful.”

You smile wider and give your last explanation to leave him alone. “I’d let you free, but I can’t have one of Cersei's scouts spotting you, it’s best if we use the element of surprise. I’ll let you out tomorrow and share the plan with you.”

Jaime lets out a deep sigh, but nods in agreement nonetheless.

“I’ll have some of my guards bring you supper and water.” You say and stand to your given height. “Goodnight Ser Jaime.”

Said man offers you a nod and redirects it. “Goodnight, princess.”

You walk to the tent's exit and stop to look back and say one last thing. “I really appreciate your loyalty and what you have to do. Thank you.”

Due to the night being so late Jon made you swear not to fly back to Dragonstone, he said “you’re too close to the castle, you can get attacked.” You fought him against it, arguing that someone can sneak in at camp and kill you anyway. But he said that the Northerner men, and the Dornish men you have here now would protect you, so you stayed.

You lay in bed but just stared at the ceiling the entire night thinking about Daenerys, and about everyone’s concerns, your own naiveness towards the situation—but then again it’s like everyone wants her to blow up and destroy everything. They say they can’t trust her, but they never try to guide her. She’s hurt, grieving, and she’s trying to rule over a broken kingdom that desperately needs her, over a sexist kingdom that needs some show of power or else she’s vulnerable. Why can’t they understand that?

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut to hopefully stop thinking about it and get some sleep, but it only takes you under for a moment before you’re woken up by the announcement that a ship is on their way. After that you’re up again and waiting by shore for Jon to dock.

Once he sees you his eyes soften. You get lost in his gaze and offer him a smile until you notice that Lord Varys is not traveling with them. It’s only him, Tyrion, and Rhaegal flying in from above.

She ended up killing him…

He would have put your children at risk, Everyone at risk. It was for the best….

Regardless, once Jon lands his feet on shore you both meet each other halfway in an embrace, as if you had been apart for months.

“Hey,” he whispers.

You grin and pull back to meet his gaze. “I missed you,” you whisper.

Jon smiles softly and cups your cheek. “Me too.”

Your heart flutters, and your smile widens.

“How are you feeling?” He asks with deep concern.

“I’m fine,” you assure him. “Just anxious for what’s to come.”

Jon sighs and frowns. “You should rest until we leave, it will be good for you.”

You scoff. “Rest? I cannot, I have to be briefed, I have to keep my cousins up to date.”

“Are they here?”

You look around and make sure everyone is minding their business to lean in and whisper. “Hidden under the castle.” You pull back and smirk briefly. “My son? How is he?”

Jon scoffs and smiles in amusement. “Upset he couldn’t come.”

You laugh softly. “Expected he would.”

Jon smiles for a second longer before it begins to fade, and you read the dread and concern in his gaze that makes your heart slowly skip a beat as you can tell something is wrong.

“Let’s talk later?” He says.

You try to read him by his look alone, but you can’t tell what he was holding back. “Of course.”

Jon sighs and glances down at your belly to caress it gently before he breaks away and lets you turn to face camp and the two men who stood close, Ser Davos and Tyrion.

“My brother?” Tyrion asks.

You draw in a deep breath and keep your face serious so as to not give anything away. “He’s fine. Locked away.” You abruptly end that conversation there and turn to Ser Davos. “May you share the news to Jon, please.”

See Davos nods and does as you say. “The rearguard should be here by daybreak.”

“She wants to attack now,” Tyrion adds.

Of course she does, she’s impatient. It’s why people can’t trust her.

“Daybreak at the earliest,” Jon says and turns to look at you one more time. “I have to make a few rounds around camp, let’s meet for supper?”

You nod eagerly, and let your gaze linger on his until he turns to talk to some of his men, leaving you to turn to talk to Tyrion, but ending up seeing him and Ser Davos talking—no murmuring to each other a few feet away.

It’s probably about Jaime, fuck hopefully he doesn’t try anything before you can let him out.

“Tyrion,” you interrupt his conversation and walk over to him and Ser Davos.

Both men stop talking and turn to face you.

“May I get the briefing from the Queen?”

Tyrion spares one last glance at the old knight beside him before stepping away to walk with you instead.

“Lord Varys died last night,” Tyrion shares. “For his crime of treachery.”

“Yes,” you nod stiffly. “I told her to.” You grab Tyrion’s hand and stop him from walking. “Considering what he was asking of me and Jon. Why did you tell him?” You whisper.

Tyrion glances around before meeting your gaze. “He had a right to know.”

You swallow thickly and let out a deep sigh. “No, it was meant to be kept a secret. You should’ve kept it at that.”

No one needed to tell you who had told Lord Varys, it was obvious it was Tyrion. He’s the only one who would share something like that to him.

“Now he’s dead….do you know if word got out?”

Tyrion shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”

You let his arm go and continue walking. “Well, we’ll know soon enough if it did.” You clasp your hands together to begin fiddling with your rings. “Anything else?”

Tyrion nods and adds on. “Tomorrow when you hear the bells ring it means that the city has surrendered, don’t attack after those bells ring.”

“Yes,” you say. “I know. I was hoping it would be that way.”

“It was hard to convince her to do it,” he admits, making you drop your gaze and swallow thickly out of…slight fear. He kept talking about the rest of the plan for tomorrow, but that’s all you could think about, that slight twinge of fear.

Still though, you keep telling yourself they’re wrong about her.

“About your brother,” you add after he’s done speaking. “You may not go talk to him, I’m sorry but I can’t risk you letting him go free.”

Tyrion stops walking, so you stop too and turn to face him.

“But,” he tries to rebuttal.

“No,” you cut him off. “I know sibling love, Tyrion. My sisters may not be my actual sisters, but I was raised alongside them, I love them as such. I know the lengths I would go to to save them too. That’s why I’m telling you to please leave him alone. For your sake and his.” You keep your eyes on his own perplexed and upset one’s for a second, before you turn on your heels and head to Ser Jaime yourself before Tyrion could eventually go.

The moment you’re inside you make yourself known right away. “Ser Jaime,” you greet as you walk into the tent.

Said man sits up from his seat against the post and peers back. “Princess,” he greets in return. “I almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

You slowly walk over to stand before him, noticing the dirty plates and cups they had yet to pick up from the ground.

“I said I would,” you tell him as you pick up the utensils. “Just so you know you’re brother just arrived. I’m certain he’ll come to try and get you out later. I hope you know how to drift him away. I mean only if I can’t get you out before then.” You put the stuff down on the table at the far corner and then turn to face him.

“Well, I’ll try my best,” Jaime says. “But my brother is quite stubborn.”

“Runs in the family then?” You snap back with a smirk.

Jaime scoffs softly and nods.

You blink and look down to let out a small breath before you walk over to him to crouch down and whisper your plan. “If you are true to your word by tomorrow. Go down to the caves where the dragon skulls are kept, past there will be a stairwell that leads down to a cove, I’ll wait for you there with my sisters.”

Jaime blinks and furrows his eyebrows. “Sisters?” He probes.

You hum. “My sisters have come to save Ellaria, Cersei didn’t kill her so my little sister has come to save her mother in the chaos that will be tomorrow.” You smirk as you share. “We’ll meet you there while Daenerys is attacking the walls.”

Jaime looks down at the ground and nods slowly. He begins to pick up dirt and adds to the conversation with his own questions. “And if your Queen attacks the castle?”

You sigh. “Then Eraxis and I will fly up, meet you there inside.”

“And how am I meant to get in the castle?” He continues to ask.

“Someone I trust will let you out later, they will have a cloak and a uniform you can wear. Use that.” You answer his question. “You can use the cover of night to hide.” You narrow your gaze and press him as you sense some uneasiness. “I know it won’t be easy, but I can count on you, right?”

Jaime lingers in silence that makes you doubt, but he soon mutters. “Giving her up will help end the battle?”

You shrug. “I hope,” you answer with the truth. “At the moment things change, but I do want that battle to end there.” You nod and gnaw on your lip out of nervousness. “Will you help me then?”

Jaime finally meets your gaze and swallows thickly before he nods in agreement, making you offer him a soft smile. “Thank you, Ser Jaime.” You whisper to him sweetly. You stand up to your feet and step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember don’t speak to your brother about anything if he catches you still here.”

“I understand,” he assures you.

You offer him one last smile before you walk out and head back to your tent to write ravens and go over plans. You sat but didn’t rest, didn’t calm down with the chaos that is preparing and planning for battle. A sense of peace doesn't come until Jon enters the tent with bowls of supper.

“It’s not all five courses, but it will keep you full,” he breaks the silence of the room.

You put your pen down and send your friend away that is going to help Jaime.

“Remember tell the guards that I command them to get a break.” You tell him.

The man nods and turns to leave Jon and you alone.

“Finished?” Jon probes.

You stand up from your chair and nod as you walk over to the small square table where he sets down the plates. “How have you been today?” You ask as you sit down across from him.

Jon sits down and picks up his spoon. “All over the camp. It’s been stressful. Did you talk to Ser Jaime yet?”

You nod and pick up your spoon to begin scooping up some supper. “I did. Hopefully it all goes smoothly.”

He hums. “You’ve gotten some sleep yet?”

You take a bite first and swallow before shaking your head. “Not yet hopefully now once I’m done with supper…if you’ll join me.”

Jon smiles faintly at his food and nods. “I will.”

“Good,” you whisper and take a few more spoonfuls of your food in silence, peaceful silence that has been lacking all day.

Yet it’s as that is happening that you begin to notice his look turn more and more somber, his frown deepens like before, and your heart feels as if it’s skipping beats.

“You remember that I wanted to talk to you?” Jon breaks the silence.

You slowly put down your spoon and nod slowly. “Hm.”

Jon sighs deeply and sits up to meet your gaze. “Well…it’s about…Daenerys.”

You blink in disbelief and keep quiet so he can continue.

“Last night when she executed Lord Varys, I noticed that she had no remorse…she had no guilt.” He says, making you feel a pit on your stomach and even more heightening disbelief at what you imagine he’s trying to get to—“I understand what happened..but Lord Varys was with her for a long time, and she looked as if she enjoyed it.”

You set your hands on your lap to discreetly fiddle with your rings, and repeat what he’s saying in your mind over and over again to try and fully understand.

“What if Sansa is right? What if Lord Varys had some reason?”Jon asks.

You shake your head and get up from your seat to face the doors of the tent. “It’s….hm. Why should she show remorse?” You counter and turn to face him with perplexity. “Would you show remorse for a traitor?”

Jon shakes his head. “No—”

“Exactly,” you cut him off and turn around to pace to the bed. “That can’t be the only reason why you doubt her now, she’s not like what they want her to be.”

“And if she is?” He probes regardless. “Perhaps we’ve been too blind. She doesn’t listen, she’s too hasty, impulsive. She can hardly even look at you, how long will it be until she turns on you? I told you I want to keep you safe, I want to have my family live,” he argues and gets up from his chair to slowly step towards you.

You shake your head and keep trying to fool yourself that they’re all just being too judgmental.

“Last night,” he continues as he now stands behind you. “She told me that if it’s fear that they want to feel towards her, then she welcomes it, she doesn’t care if the people love her not anymore, not after Missandei.”

You blink repeatedly and that pit deepens until you begin to feel nauseous because you know you have no reason denying his words, Jon is not a liar, he’s honest. His words would never be a lie.

You turn and sit down on the edge of the bed to drop your head and get lost on the ground as you sank it all in, as you keep trying to deny it.

Jon sighs and sits next to you, he takes your hand and interlaces it with his.

“I know she’s your family, but sometimes duty is the death of love…she’s lost…” he trails off, and you keep trying to deny it.

“I can’t accept it,” you whisper in her defense. “We’re supposed to win together. Bring back what our family lost, together…” you pause and close your eyes to sigh slowly and shakily.

Jon swallows thickly, and doesn’t argue he just says one last thing. “Tomorrow if things change, if she doesn’t follow the plan. If she tries anything, you fly the other way, swear to me.”

You open your eyes and slowly lift your gaze to meet his.

“Nothing is worth it if I lose you,” he whispers and cups your cheek with his other hand. “So swear to me that you won’t fight her. I can’t lose you.”

Without hesitation you nod to assure him. And you mean it because you have faith in her that she won’t become what they fear.

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #Jon snow #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x you #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #jon snow x reader #Daenerys Targaryen #sansa stark #jaime lannister #angst #Targaryen incest #chapter 9

[littledollll]

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

[countrymusiclover]

Whichever gets more votes I will update if I can. Please send me any ideas that you have ❤️

Fire OF A Stark (Jaime x oc Stark/Targaryen)

Other Hoyt's Off Limits (Beau Arlen)

Country Rancher (Kayce Dutton x reader, Yellowstone)

Tags @whateverthecostner @rosie-posie08 @kaycejdutton @kayceduttonn @kcloveswrestling @the-morning-star-falls @kaymudd @hcwthewestwaswcn

#most votes will be updated #tell me what you want updated #fire of a stark #jaime lannister x reader fanfiction #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister x oc #jaime lannister x targaryen reader #jaime lannister x stark reader #other hoyt's off limits #beau arlen x you #beau arlen big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #country rancher #kayce dutton x reader fanfiction #kayce dutton x fem!reader #kayce dutton x reader #yellowstone fanfiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone #yellowstone tv series #comments really appreciated

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

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

[megsironthrone]

I Hate That I Don't Hate You (Part 1 of 2)

Based on this request:  Can I request a Jaime x reader. Maybe themed around 10 things I hate about you? Her as Kat and him as Patrick. She’s a Stark and maybe they can only pair off Sansa when reader is so they ask Jaime to charm her but they end up falling for each other?

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!* Also, this was getting rather long, so I've split it into 2 parts.

Warnings: Modern/Movie based AU (10 Things I Hate About You), angst, a smidge of fluff.

Pairings/Characters: Jaime Lannister x fem!Stark reader, mentions of other Starks, Tyrion, and Podrick.

Jaime stared at the two men in front of him. "Perhaps I misheard. You want me to…what?"

          "Ask Y/N Stark on a date." Jaime blinked in surprise before gazing around to see if he could spot you. This was not what he expected from today. At all. "Why?" he finally asked when he couldn't see you. The young man in front of him sighed. "A mutual acquaintance wants to go out with Sansa, but Sansa can't date until her older sister does. You're about the same age and seem like the kind of guy she'd go for."

          "What's in it for me?" Jaime asked. "What do you want?" Jaime let his eyes wander again. This time, he did spot you in the crowd. "Hold that thought," he replied before getting up to approach you. You friend spotted Jaime before you did and gestured in his direction. Your head snapped over to him.

          Jaime supposed, up close, you were rather attractive. For a Stark, anyway. As he drew nearer to you, you cocked a brow at him. "Is there a reason I'm being graced with all your glorious majesty this morning, Lannister, or am I just unlucky?" you snarked, earning a giggle from your friend who Jaime now recognized as Margaery Tyrell. Oh this was going to cost Tyrion and Podrick. Still, Jaime liked a challenge and you were certainly a challenge.

          When Jaime didn't reply, you simply rolled your eyes and turned away. Jaime walked back to Tyrion. "I do this, the two of you owe me. Big time. Y/N Stark is not a woman easily tamed." Both Tyrion and Podrick agreed and Jaime smiled. Let the fun begin.

*time skip. Your POV*

       "What the hells is Lannister's problem?" you grumbled, shoving the note into your locker before grabbing your books and slamming the door fiercely. You jumped at the sight of Jaime standing next to you yet again. You sighed loudly. Why wouldn't he just leave you alone? "My problem is that my charm seems to be failing me. I've been trying to get your attention for weeks now."

          "What do you want? Seriously, three weeks ago, you didn't even know my name and now you won't leave me be," you told him, exasperated. You began to walk away when his next words froze you in place. "I want to date you." You slowly turned to face him as your mouth hung open in shock. "You what?"

          "Just one date, Y/N. If you still hate me after, you'll never have to speak to me again." You narrowed your eyes at him. He was being suspiciously nice to you. Aside from Tyrion, most Lannisters avoided or hated your family. Still, you'd never had anyone else brave enough to ask you out. You thought about Sansa, who desperately wanted to date another boy in school but couldn't unless you dated first.

          You let out another long sigh and nodded. "Fine, Lan-Jaime. One date." The smirk on Jaime's face grew. You held up a hand to stop him from speaking, "BUT! I reserve the right to leave at any time." Jaime nodded. "Great. Pick you up Friday at 7." He jogged away before you could argue. You shook your head wondering what you'd just gotten yourself into.

          That Friday, you sighed as you waited for Jaime's car to pull into driveway. "Where are you going?" Sansa asked you. "Out, Sansa. On a…date." Sansa's face lit up with excitement. If you hit it off with your date, Sansa would be able to start dating. But when your date pulled up and she realized it was Jaime Lannister, her face fell. There was no way the two of you would get along well enough.

          "Jaime Lannister?" she asked quietly, but not quietly enough for your father not to hear.  "What about Jaime Lannister?"

          "Y/N's got a date with him," Sansa announced and you rolled your eyes. "A date?" Another sigh. "Yes, a date. He asked…more like begged, and I said yes. That's it. Nothing more." Before anyone could argue, the bell rang and you raced to answer it before any of your siblings could. When the door was open, you froze a little.

          Jaime Lannister was a good looking guy. There was absolutely no denying that. You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice before, but this was completely different.  You couldn't tell what it was, but he exuded confidence and something else that you felt guilty thinking about with your younger siblings in the room.

          It wasn't until Jaime cleared his throat that you realized you were staring. You glanced at his face to see that damned smirk of his gracing his lips yet again. "Let's go, Lannister. If this date's a bust, I'd like to be back home before my show comes on." Jaime laughed and offered his arm to you. You took it and let him lead you to his car as you mentally prepared yourself for a long night.

*Jaime's POV*

          Jaime did his best to impress you, but nothing seemed to work. You just weren't a easy nut to crack. You didn't trust people at all, but Jaime was determined to change that. He wasn't about to fail. Not when Tyrion was counting on him. Plus, you were the first woman to not give a damn about his family's influence or wealth. It was nice.

          As the night went on, however, you seemed to loosen up a bit. Jaime even got you to smile once. That was a win in his book considering how long it had taken just to get that. When Jaime pulled into your driveway after your date had come to an end, you shifted in your seat to face him as best you could.

          "Alright, Jaime. I have to admit that wasn't the complete disaster I thought it would be." Jaime chuckled, his voice filling the car. "High praise indeed, Miss Stark." Your rolled your eyes, but smiled at him again anyway. Jaime continued, "Would you want to do it again?" Your brows rose a little and you asked if he was sure he wanted to go out with you again.

          In that moment, Jaime swore you were one of the most adorable people he'd ever met. He had never seen you look so unsure. "Yeah. Why not? We had fun, I like your company. And your face isn't too bad either…when you're not scowling at me, that is." You playfully glared at him and sat in silence for a moment while you contemplated your answer. "I suppose one more date couldn't hurt. Just to make sure this was actually a good one." Jaime laughed again as you climbed out of the car.

          Your and Jaime's relationship seemed to advance quickly after that first date. And day-by-day, Jaime became more and more enamored by you. You were so much more than the frosty woman people thought you were. Underneath that icy exterior was a warm, kind, and compassionate person. You loved fiercely and loyally. You were also so intelligent, even helping Jaime with his coursework from time to time. Your quick wit and sharp tongue could even put Tyrion to shame sometimes. Jaime found himself falling head over heels in love with you. There was only one problem. His agreement with Tyrion.

          The guilt began to gnaw at Jaime the more time he spent with you. But it was only after your fifth date, when you let him kiss you, that Jaime decided enough was enough. To this very day, Jaime had no clue why he chose to confront Tyrion at school that day instead of at home. Maybe it was because Podrick was with him. But with just a few words, Jaime's world came crashing down.

          "The deal's off," he told the two younger men, "I won't do it anymore. I should have never agreed to it in the first place." Tyrion arched a brow and smirked. "Could it be that my dear brother has developed feelings for a certain Stark sister?"          

"Tyrion, this isn't a game. I don't care. You don't owe me anything. I was stupid to ask Y/N for a profit anyway." Tyrion didn't reply, his gaze somewhere behind Jaime. Jaime felt ice creep down his spine when, from behind him, he heard, "You asked me out…for a bribe?"

(a/n: I hope like it! The second part is almost finished and will hopefully be posted in a few days!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @cd1242 @frozenhuntress67 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @line-viper @supernatural4life2022

Jaime Lannister Tags: @faith-in-dean @bellarkeselection

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #modern au #jaime lannister x reader #jaime x reader #jaime lannister #10 things I hate about you au #part 1