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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

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The Most Impossible Battle

Pairing: Young Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: soft dubcon, NSFW, gradual consent, rough sex

Words: 3020

Summary: Robert hated all Targaryens. Wise words from those close to him though make Robert Baratheon give in to the idea of taking (y/n) Targaryen as his bride.

By the Gods Robert, have mercy on the girl.” Ned pleaded but was immediately shut up by Robert’s roaring voice.

“Mercy?! MERCY?! Did that Targaryen whore’s brother show your sister mercy when he raped her?!! The Targaryen don’t deserve mercy Ned!” Young and callous, Robert Baratheon’s beautiful blue eyes were now tainted with his fury and anger. He stood a few inches higher above the his Stark brother. Even with that fact, Ned refused to stand down on the matter.

With a stone face, he goes on “Her brother is to blame. She has done nothing wrong.”

That made Robert scoff. “Except let the others escape. She’s fully aware of her family’s guilt. Have you so quickly forgotten what her father had done to your brother and father? The whole family is taint and should be eradicated.”

Yes, young (y/n) Targaryen had made sure her younger siblings were well out of harms way. At the moment she had been captured she had sent her younger brother Viserys and newborn sister Daenerys away on a cargo ship. To where, she refused to say. Brave, Ned admired that much about the girl. In that moment he was reminded so much of Lyanna. Brave, beautiful and stubborn.

Ned couldn’t let Robert execute her. He didn’t want anymore blood shed thanks to this stupid war.

He gives Jon Arryn a sideways glance, asking for his help. Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, purses his lips together for a moment. “Think rationally Robert.” The older man did always have a way in reining him in. Both men viewed him as a surrogate father and in that aspect resonated a great deal of respect. “Even though there were a great deal of people who hated Aerys, there an even greater many who loved Rhaegar and (y/n). Those supporters are already upset at the death of Rhaegar, as deserving as it was. But (y/n)? She’s but a sweet maid who has done nothing. Those families might do something hasty if you were to execute her.”

“Then I’ll kill them. I’m king now and if a see someone that isn’t obedient I can surely have them executed. The whole lot of those Targaryen loving scum.” Spitting he stomps over to a large window to look over his new dominion of King’s Landing. Hands splayed on the windowsill he glares out over the city.

“Be reasonable Robert.” Jon tries again. “That will just earn you more resentment from the people you now govern. Otherwise you’d be just like Aerys.”

That made Robert’s broad shoulders go rigid. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to the Targaryen king. No, he didn’t want to be anything like Aerys. “Then what do you suggest I do with the girl?”

The room was quiet for a moment, as if Jon was afraid to even say the solution. One encouraging look from Ned gave him the strength he needed. “Marry her.”

Ned gaped at the Arryn lord, he hadn’t been expecting that as a solution.

Robert spun on his heel, dark mane of hair flying as he did so. “Marry her? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Not as much as you have.” Jon speaks truthfully, staring down the young man who used to be his ward. “Think about it Robert. If you marry her, then those who still support the Targaryens will have no choice but to support you. She’s well loved among the people. That would give you good reception, having her as your bride.”

Gritting his teeth, his blue eyes narrow. “No. Never. I will never marry her. It would be a disgrace upon the memory of Lyanna. Lyanna was who I was supposed to marry. And now because of that Targaryen bastard, she’s dead.”

“What’s done is done Robert. You cannot turn back time. But you can attempt to move on.” He tries to sound a little sympathetic. Robert had been deeply in love with Lyanna, but even Jon Arryn knew that his love only ran so deep. It hadn’t stopped Robert from sleeping with dozens of other women.

Sighing, Ned places a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “He’s right. You’re king now. You must do things that you don’t necessarily want to do. Keeping the peace by marrying her… It needs to be done Robert. There is still unrest all throughout Westeros. Her father and brother may have been bastards, but she was beloved by all the realms. It would do you good.”

“Damn you Ned. Damn you and your sensible words.”

Were they okay? You hoped Viserys didn’t lose his temper with the newborn Daenerys.

Your fingers made circles in the dirt that you called your bed.

They should be safely out in the open water. People would have a hard time finding that ship.

Fear and worry and the echo of Viserys pleading with you to go with them. But there wasn’t any time. Not for you at least. You had to delay Robert’s soldiers. That was the only way that the ship would be able to leave the port in time. Daenerys’ shrill cries still haunted you as you stared at the walls of your cell. You never thought in a million years that you would wind up there, in the dungeons of your ancestors.

You didn’t know what would be worse, you rotting away in the dungeon or Robert Baratheon having you executed. You understood why all this had happened, you weren’t that much of a naive girl. True you had been sheltered most of your life, you knew how the world worked. Your brother had been a fool. It was his fault for stealing the Stark girl although you didn’t believe one bit that he had raped her. That was not in Rhaegar’s nature. Neither was war. Now you were paying for the price of it. You knew that if the soldiers had caught Viserys he would have been as good as dead. He posed a threat to the usurper as now being the next in line for the Iron Throne. The last male heir of Aerys. What would your fate be?

You hadn’t anticipated marriage being an option.

Guards had dragged you out of your cell, filthy and stumbling as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright light that suddenly blinded you. You were lead to the reception hall that was once filled with the skulls of your family’s dragons. There in the back, commanding authority was the Iron Throne. On it now sat an imposing Robert Baratheon. It was an odd sight for you, seeing a man that wasn’t your insane father on the throne. One that lacked the Targaryen violet eyes and snow white hair. Robert’s thick hair clashed against your own; violently dark opposed to your gentle silver tresses. He looked every part of king, much more than your father did. During the last few years, Aerys’ body had begun to deteriorate greatly as his body thinned and became frail. Not Robert. His body was taught with muscle, ready to strike. His thick beard betrayed his young age, making him look so much more older than you knew he was. The new King of Westeros.

You had thought you were there to hear your death sentence. What came out of the stag king’s mouth nearly made you lose balance.

“I will take you as my queen. You have no say in the matter and will act accordingly unless you want to meet the same fate as your brother and father.” Stating with no compassion in his heart, rich blue eyes glare at you. “It seems fitting since he took my bride away.”

Opening your mouth you realize you didn’t know what to say. Surely you could oppose but what would that do to help you? From his voice it was clear that the last thing he wanted to do was marry you. The feeling was very much mutual. Even though your brother had been an idiot and had been in the wrong, you still hated Robert for killing him. You realized you might want death rather than this. To have to bed the man that killed Rhaegar… It made you sick. Rhaegar was an idiot, but he was your idiot. Dozens of memories resurfaced that nearly had you weeping.

“I… I am to be your bride?” The words were laced with venom. “A usurper’s queen?”

If he hadn’t been perched on the throne you knew he would’ve slapped you. Instead you noticed the subtle whitening of his knuckles as he gripped at the throne. “Watch your tongue, whore. You should be grateful that I don’t crush your skull in with my hammer.”

Dragon fire flushed your face. “I would rather you do that than subject me than your disease ridden cock.”

There was a collective gasp in the hall. A beloved princess you were, but that didn’t mean you let people step over you. You were blood of the dragon after all.

“Your grace,” broke in a voice next to you. A solemn looking man took to your side. The sigil of a direwolf displayed proudly on his vest. “Please, I know this must be difficult for you but it is the best course of action for you to take. You’ll still have your life and your people.”

“And what of my respect? My dignity? I lose all that to the Baratheon usurper.”

In a more hushed tone, the young Stark lord bends a bit to whisper in your ear. “I promise to you, if you go through with this I’ll make sure your siblings remain safe. To the old Gods and the new, I swear that they won’t be harmed.”

You soften. The Starks kept good to their word, everyone knew that. How could you say no when it ensured the safety of your siblings?

“Okay… Okay.”

By the Gods she was beautiful. Disgustingly beautiful with her Targaryen traits. Robert hated it. Hated her and her entire family. But he couldn’t deny her beauty. Especially when she stood there in front of him, her Targaryen cloak around her shoulders about to be replaced by the Baratheon yellow and black. She looked every bit a queen should. Full pouting lips, dark eyelashes that kissed at her cheeks when she fluttered her eyelids. The trail of her neck that led down to a prominent collar bone (probably from having been denied food for days).

It should have been Lyanna there in her place. Jon Arryn was right in one thing though, he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t dream of mending the past. Nothing would bring Lyanna back to him. Robert would take Rhaegar’s sister as retribution; watch the fallen prince turn in his grave as he married her.

Robert couldn’t deny his immense attraction to her though. More so now that she stood in front of them in their wedding chambers. The Bedding Ceremony was about to commence. Violet eyes hold onto blue as she stands her ground.

“Turn around.” He growls out. “I don’t want to look at your face.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” She hisses back and turns around. Her silver hair had been done so meticulously in luscious braids and curls that even Robert couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her hair. Catching himself, he gives it a good yank making her suck in breath at the pain. His other hand goes to the laces on the back of her dress, easily ripping them to reveal her flawless, bare, back. Such beautiful skin. Robert’s fingers glide along her back before tearing off the rest of her dress so that it pooled around her feet. (y/n) continues to stand tall with her back straight. Grabbing the back of her neck, Robert bends her over the bed so that her face was pressed into the mattress; her small hands curled tightly into the silken bedsheets. Preparing for whatever Robert had planned for her. Surely she must know what he would do. Treat her as harshly as Rhaegar must have treated Lyanna. His thick thigh pushes her legs apart and Robert nearly sighs at the sight. The sight of her exposed and bent over was enough for him to salivate over. What a beautiful cunt she had. Possibly the most beautiful he had seen. He wanted to run his tongue along her slit and taste her.

(y/n) struggled slightly to move her face into a better position for her to breathe. As she did so she unconsciously wiggled her ass, an ass that begged for a smack.

That’s just what he did. Reeling his hand back and smacking her ass. “Stay still.” A vivid red handprint starts to bloom on her rear. His large hand grabs her pussy and with his fingers spreads her lower lips apart in preparation for his cock. He was a little bit too excited to fuck her. He shouldn’t have felt the thrill of it rush through him. In the end he was just as weak as any other man. As much as he wanted to be rough, he also wanted to enjoy it. Ever so slowly he pushes his cock inside of her inch by inch. Each slow movement of him entering her made (y/n) tremble and dare he say, even moan a little bit. Finally he was completely sheathed inside of her. Robert let his head roll back, eyes closing at the sublime feeling of her wonderful cunt. It was unlike anything else he had felt before. And he had fucked many maidens. Many virgins as well. None had felt quite so good though. His pace was slow at first, enjoying each contraction her cunt made as he slid his cock in and out. Using his hands, he tilted her hips up even more and hitting the right place, (y/n) lets out a shaky moan. It made him pick up the pace and pound into her. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her ass as he went balls deep into her was maddening.

“Fuck.” His deep voice groans out. He wanted to see her face. Wanted to see her tits as he fucked her senselessly. With such ease he flips her onto her back. (y/n)’s face was incredibly red now that she faced him. She was trying to glare at him but once Robert slid back into her, her eyes rolled back into her head. Crying out as he rammed into her over and over again, so much so that it made her tits bounce. Robert wraps his fingers around her slender neck putting the slightest pressure; tightening his grip little by little.

Fuck

FUCK

It was becoming hard to breathe but that was the least of your worries. The sight of Robert, his barrel chest and taught abs fucking you was too much to bear. Hard lines of his muscles twitching as he tightened his fingers around your neck.

Why did it feel so good? He was basically fucking you like a whore. You were a pureblood Targaryen and deserved better. But you found yourself enjoying his harsh treatment. You wanted him to get rougher. You wanted him to pound harder into you so that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Head becoming light and warm, something else was happening. You felt a tightening below. The more he fucked you, the tighter the coil seemed to get until…

No. You didn’t want to be the first one to come undone. You didn’t want him to know that you were actually enjoying it. At the rate he was going though it was only a matter of time.

To take back control you launched yourself at him, catching him by surprise and his hand releasing from your neck. With your surprise attack you wrestle him so that he was now the one under you on the bed. His cheeks are red, eyes hard as he regards you with question. His about to protest until you sit yourself down on his cock. Protest devolving into a groan he lets his head fall onto the mattress as you roll your hips. You place your hands on his hard chest. Bobbing up and down his cock you try to ignore your cunt begging for release. Curling your fingers, you dig your nails into his chest and drag them harshly down. His face scrunches up, baring his teeth and hissing. Hands reaching around you to grab at your ass, he pulls you quickly up and down. You wouldn’t allow him to be in control for too long though. Again you dig your nails and drag them. Robert releases your ass and glares up at you. Beautiful blue eyes. Your own little hands reach to his thick neck and tighten like claws of a hawk. Using that as support you lift yourself off of his engorged member and start to tease the head of his cock. Slowly, torturously slow, you barely sit down enough for the head to be sheathed before coming back up. Your husband growls impatiently, wanting you to go back to riding his cock. You’re just buying yourself more time and shortening his. That’s when you sit all the way down on his cock. His mouth gapes open as you ride him. His breathing become hard, his hips desperately thrusting to match you.

You feel his body lock up underneath you as he lets out a loud groan.

The two of you were frozen in that position, trying to regain your breath. You had won. At least this battle. A bit unsteadily you lift yourself off of him; something warm and wet dribbling out. Smuggly you lay down beside him and stare at the ceiling, the space between your legs upset with you that you denied yourself your own orgasm.

“Well fuck.” Robert pants. Lazily he turns his head. “You didn’t come.”

“I wouldn’t dare grant you that satisfaction.” You roll away from him and onto your side.

Determined to prove you wrong, Robert’s hand lands on your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. “Fuck that noise. I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you’ll see stars.”

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

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A Lion's Vow

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader

Warnings: canon character death

Words: 7251

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the arrest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jaime."

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

"I have to go."

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

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

Death did little to scare him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You further hid into the shrubs, heart racing.

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

"(y/n)?"

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

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

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

You shake your head. "My sisters-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaime analyzed the situation while keeping you under his arm.

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

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

"Y-Yes. Of course."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He'd forsaken his own family for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She painted a beautiful picture.

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

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

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

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

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

She was a snorter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They force him onto his knees in front of her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods.

His words made you soar.

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

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

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

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

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

You were still stunned at what Jaime had admitted.

“(Y/n)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give him a chance.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh and shove his arm lightly.

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

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