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ornii · 2 months

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“I Do not love you, …I Tolerate You.”

Daenerys Targaryen X Male Lannister Reader

(Y/n) Lannister, King of House Lannister, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, and the Father of Golden Lions, Mourning the Death of his Love, an unknown force calls claim to the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons.

Warning: Hey, you like thighjobs? No? Well too bad we got them!

Kings Landing, the final destination for kings and queens to either rule or die trying. For you it was the first, but it came with much loss.

Being born a Lannister you had some obligations to uphold, son of an Imp, you had much to live up to and deal with. But more importantly, you had fallen for one woman specifically.. Margery. Unlike Tommen and Joffrey, you weren’t as Naive and Foolish as them, Tyrion made sure of that. Teaching you the way the game of thrones is played was essential to survive in this world. She respected your opinions, ideals, wishes. Her Marriage to Joffrey was one of necessity, yours was out of love. A love that was quickly shattered and burned by one Cersei Lannister.

Joffrey was Murdered, Your father Tyrion put on trial, and in return he escapes, Kills your grandfather Tywin, and escapes. Leaving Tommen to pick up the pieces, Tyrion was never seen in Kings Landing again. Still keeping your relationship a secret you continued your affairs, but it only had gotten worse, the Sparrows using their holy influence to capture Margery, Tommen, nothing but a mere child in the mind did nothing, and his Mother Cersei was also taken, her plan backfiring. You only wished that was the end of the nightmare.

Cersei executes a plan that lead to the explosion of the Sept, killing Margery, her brother, The High Sparrow and so many more. Your cousins, Grandfather, Father, and now your Love, all gone. All of that set in motion your path to the crown, forming the Golden Roar rebellion you overthrew Cersei and took the Iron Throne as your own, it didn’t take much of course, using your connection to the people you exposed her true nature, and her actions. The people rebelled, you rebelled, it was perfect. With all obstacles moved, you now have the power to change everything, to change the world, but one obstacle stood left; The Last Targaryen.

Sitting upon your iron throne, and Gregor at your side, you listened to the concerns of not only nobles but of the people. They were small at best, tedious. It wasn’t until your kings guard, your Uncle Jamie knelt down to slightly whisper.

“There is something I must speak to you about when time is available.”

“Is it important?” You asked calmly, your eyes darting to him. Jamie nodded, it was rare your uncle often spoke during your court. You ended the proceeding for now and walked to the high chambers with your uncle.

“It’s about—“ Jamie began but you had an idea of what he was going to ask.

“As I have said before uncle, I shall not Kill Aunt Cersei, as much as she deserves it.. I made that promise to you, I intend to keep it. She will be locked away. And when I have complete control, you can live out your days with her in Casterly Rock.” You said, while your blood boiled at the idea of Cersei living, for your uncle who treated you as equal, you honored your promise.

“No, House Tarly might consider to support the Targaryen.” He began, you knew about Her, but you didn’t care at the time. You picked up your pace, trying to focus and Jamie kept up.

“Really now?” You asked intrigued.

“They’re the only house that has not claimed loyalty, and if we lose their house—“

“We might have a problem.” You finish the statement for him. “We had the Tyrell’s but Cersei made sure of that.. although.” You slowly had an idea coming together, Jamie halted in his footsteps as a smirk crept on your face.

“We won’t need the Tyrells… if the False Queen truly wishes to take the throne. Then I should at least hear the woman out..” You said, admittedly you wished to see this last living Targaryen. Stepping into your bedchamber you overlooked Kings Landing, the debt slowly being pushed down, people attempting to rebuild after the sept, all your doing. And if this Targaryen Pureblooded Freak wished to take this from you, then she must kill you in order to take it. Your mind wandered until you stepped out to the balcony, enjoying the warm air, smells of earth and rock, but something else caught your attention.. something was moving across the horizon of the ocean.

Standing on the massive port gate of Kings Landing, You, Ser Jamie, Maester Quburn stood at the port, watching ships slowly enter, but they were not yours. They belonged to the Greyjoys. Standing with soldiers surrounding and arrows ready to massacre the platoons, you wait. They dock and descend out, and your eyes laid upon Euron Greyjoy, the sadistic cold bastard of what’s left of the Greyjoys, that shit eating grin was unsettling, as if he had some master plan for you. He gave a fake bow and kept his sly eye on you.

“My King.” He said, having your hands behind your back you calmly raised your hand, and placed your fingers down, allowing the archers to put their bows down.

“You must be, Euron.” You said, what could a Greyjoy Possibly want here?”

“It’s a simple request, although I expected the queen to be greeting me.” He replies, look around slowly, as if to expect Cersei.

“Unfortunately she’s been.. replaced. Allow me to welcome you and your men to kings Landing, Respect our Laws and you shall be respected in kind.” You offer him to walk with you, and he does.

“Your business here must be important if you wished to speak with me.” You look around, noting that there are still arrows trained on Euron, for your safety after all.

“Yes, what I ask requires some.. finesse. Finesse only the true king of Westeros would have.” Euron plays it up, but you knew better and cut though his words.

“What would you wish?” You reply, entering the throne room you said. “How would.. command over the waters of All Westeros sound?” He said, you halted, and slowly went up the stairs, ascending to a higher position than him. You sit down upon the throne, gently placing your hands together.

“I have the power to give this, but why would I give it to you, a Greyjoy in fact.. I gain, nothing.” You explain, and Euron snaps his fingers laughing.

“You see that is where you are wrong, my king. My loyalty, I will swear to you, and the entire Greyjoy fleet will be yours to command at your demand, all I ask is reign over the waters.”

“That is an imposing proposal.. but how do I know you will keep your word?” You reply, and Euron grins. “I have a.. gift.”

Minutes pass as you sit in your Throne, Jamie by your side waiting. Hoping this “Gift” will be of some worth. And it was, the doors open to Euron and his men, having three women captured and tied like cattle to follow. You looked at them, while two were from Dorne, the other wasn’t. Jamie gripped his saber hilt with his good hand. You noticed the shift in his emotion, and tilted your head.

“I believe these women are from Dorne.. why do you have them?” You asked, you vaguely recognize one as Oberon’s lover.

“This is Ellaria and Tyene Sand.. your Cousins Killers.” Euron smiles, presenting a good gift, your eyes slowly filled with malice and hate, a feeling you’ve only ever truly felt a few times in life. The feeling came back with a vengeance and you calmly but somehow with boiling fury stood up and walked down the stairs, you calmly approached Ellaria her eyes were wary off course, you were a Lannister unknown, meaning you were unpredictable.

“Ellaria sand… for your daughter’s Sake, tell the truth.. did you kill my cousin Marcella?” You whispered so coldly and raspy into her ear, like a growling lion before he pounces and tears apart zebras flesh. You watched her quiver, heavy breathing, and in the last moments of reality she nodded, confirming the truth. You took a step back and bit your lip to keep from showing tears. “The Cell.. all of them.” You gave the shallow order and the guards took them away. You could care less about the last one and allowed her to be taken away as well. Sitting back on your throne you looked to Euron, and gave the nod.

“The seas.. are yours.”

It had been a Week since Eurons reign, and all was calm, until you had an unexpected visitor, standing at the gates of Kings Landing with your men and council, you watched as an army of Unsullied and Dothraki approach, you couldn’t make out anyone you knew and prepared to rain Wildfire on them, but someone’s presence was well known, you heard the intense roar and the echo of massive wings in the sky, you saw the dragon, the most powerful beings in Westeros, they land on the ground. And its blood red eyes looked at you, admittedly a wave of fear hit you.

“Quburn.. are the Dragon Slayers reader?” You asked.

“Ready to launch, my King.” He replies, you sigh with relief and then watched a tiny figure step from the army.

“..Father?” You said, almost speechless. Tyrion approached, looking older, more stern. You signaled to let him in.

Sitting across from each other inside a Tent. You didn’t have much to say to him, even after all these years.

“You.. did it.” Tyrion said, seeing his son as king was, an unreal feeling. “You achieved greatness, as I always expected. Besides you’re half of me, so you should have.”

“Amusing father.. but, are you truly with this woman?”

“She.. has a vision for Westeros I simply cannot allow to go to the wayside, besides this place needs someone willing to show mercy instead of the blade.” Tyrion responds, you could somewhat understand his predicament.

“I suppose, but I won’t allow my throne to be taken by some Targaryen child. I will lead Westeros to peace, and she can go back to ruling whatever sand hill she wishes, as long as it isn’t on my soil.”

“That.. may not be your soil for much longer.” Tyrion quips, your eyes glare at him as he sips his wine.

“Not by us, the Winter.. the cold.. the undead. They’re real, and it seems their plan is to go from the wall and destroy along. Westeros, it would not be long before they raid Kings Landing..”

You consider your father’s words carefully, if this is true. Then the Queen of Dragons isn’t your main focus. “Is there a way to stop them?” You ask.

“Dragons glass and fire, that seems to be our only two, unfortunately the Queen lost one to the White Walkers. If we’re to survive and surpass this darkness, you and the Queen must come to an understanding and work together.”

“I.. see..” You rubbed your chin, truly considering all of this. “And where is the Queen?”

“Winterfell.”

“I can spare twenty thousand Men, leave a few here to run while I go.” You said, standing up you look out to the army still awaiting.

“May your return back to your Queen be swift father.. but know that when this is done, you must choose a side.” You left your father with those parting words, and Made way for The North.

Entering Winterfell felt like a death sentence, you felt eyes all over you, knowing at any moment you could be swarmed and killed, thankfully your army surrounded the rest of Winterfell, so a siege would immediately commence if you were killed. Standing in the Great Hall, you were gazed upon by Many house, and sitting at the center of the table was none other that the Queen, Denreyes Targaryen. You have a bow of courtesy.

“Your Grace, my father informed me of the.. issue we’re facing, this night king, these.. white walkers. They’re a plague slowly burrowing into the heart of Westeros, and it would take us all to stop them, so I fully intend to lend aid.” You said, it was silent besides a few Murmurs, some surprised you came here, others surprised you’re actually helping, Lannisters are usually selfish.

“Your help will be paramount to stopping this invasion. And I suppose the terms of your surrender was spoke about as well?”

“Apologies but I have no intent to surrender..” you reply, and smile. “A beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself should know I am not here to surrender but to lend aid. We can discuss the throne when we know there will be a throne left.”

It was silence in the room now, and before Dany could say something she bit her tongue to keep it. “Understandable.. we shall discuss this when ample time is available. Please, enjoy Winterfell for the time being.” Her words sounded kind, but obviously it had a hint of malice behind it, knowing better you didn’t call her out, and simply went to your bedchambers. Walking along the frozen planks of Winterfell you felt unease, as if someone was watching you. You hit a corner and kept up the pace, knowing someone was there. As you turned the corner you prepared to face your chaser, you stepped out to attack but, no one was there. Something was wrong, but unfortunately it was too late.

You felt the cold steel against your neck and the abrupt grip of a hand around your wrist. Death was mere moments away, but it didn’t come, a voice came from behind you.

“Still too slow for your own good.” It said, it may have been years since you’ve seen her, but you recognized that voice from anywhere.

Arya.

“Always too slow for you.” You replied in jest and the cold steel was removed, you sigh and turn around to see her, she’s taller now and, you couldn’t help but notice that she’s a full fledged woman now. You met Arya when her Sister and Father were taken to Kings Landing, she had this tomboyish attitude that made you adore her, always being so friendly and practicing her fighting skills even as a girl, and now you both had grown up.

“You look..” you started, your eyes going up and down and back into her eyes.

“Scary?” She responds

“Amazing.” You said, she had a sly grin and gave you a playful poke with her finger. “And you look like a real king now.”

“I try.” You respond, “Arya.. about Kings Landing—“ you start but she stops you.

“You saved me when you made me leave when my father was killed, if not I’d end up like Sansa, your family isn’t you.” She said to you, so earnest and kind. That weight was taken off your shoulder. You nodded and Arya walks past you.

“I’ll see you soon. I’m sure you, have a lot deal with.” With those words Arya parted. You watched her leave, and the curves she developed would make a man’s steel resolve melt. You shook your head and pressed forward, entering the room you took a step in, and closed the door behind you, unfortunately you weren’t the only one in the room, Daenerys. She sat in your chair, as if she was awaiting your arrival.

“That did not take you long.” You said, ready to debate.

“Your presence has made it an issue with the northerners, not only do they question my rule as Queen of the North because of Jon, but so does yours.” She clenched her jaw slightly and you chuckled. You calmly removed your cape. You noticed the bottle of wine on the counter and didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Stop clenching your jaw. It’s bad for your teeth darling, you’re too pretty to lose your teeth now.” You calmly placed your cape on the table and approached to sit across from her.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Your Grace flattered has gotten me into a lot of things, thankfully one is the throne.” You gently combed back your hair, looking into her eyes, She was ferocious like a dragons, but also a merciful side. They were.. beautiful.

“Well I hope your flattery will work against the Night King and his horde of undead.” She obviously has a chip on her shoulder to say the least, a chip you intend to knock off.

“I doubt, he doesn’t seem the type to be swept off his cold decrepit feet.” You tapped the table, just to annoy her. “I say a good dagger to the heart does the same thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose it does. I am.. surprise you came.” She admits, you raised an eyebrow.

“You think of me as a liar?” You asked, She didn’t want to say yes but obviously you had your answer, your smirk fades and you calmly sit up, you popped the cork off the bottle and took a swig of it.

“I am nothing, if not a man of my word, and I came here to fight them myself as well. I said I would, so I would. And so you would know I truly mean it when I said.. I would Marry you and Make you Queen Denyeres Targaryen, you wouldn’t have to take my last name.” You meant every word, you offered the bottle of wine to Deny, she stared at it for a moment and took it for a drink of it. A warm smile was already on your face, hours of talking and drinking left you two actually getting along.

“You have no idea, it’s fucking cold, I hate it here, everyone cannot understand why I deserve the throne because I dont have a cock between my legs.” Deny rants on, and you slip up and said, “You could use mine.” You blurted out, jokingly but, she didn’t see it as a joke. She tilts her head a way that make you shutter a bit. You saw a sly smirk creep along her face.

“Is that a true request?” She asked you. You blinked a few times and decided why not and took the risk. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just put it between your thighs.” You shrugged and watched Dany stand up, slowly unblocking her lower garments. You watched her smooth legs for show and an eyes trail upwards to what’s between her legs. A soft slightly trimmed bush, the blood stopped rushing to your head and to your dick. Kings Landing didn’t Lack whores and women, but something about Dany felt fresh, and desire burned. She giggled, seeing your thousand yard gaze at her privates. She knelt down, her soft legs stroking your thighs, and looking into your eyes. “Am I.. going to have to take them off myself?” She said, and you shook you head, gripping your trousers and pushed them down, and Dany got an eyeful of the Lions Tail.

“It’s… wow.” Dany was taken aback, but didn’t hesitate, she turned around, and plopped right on your lap, her bare ass brushing against your legs, she gently opens her legs and watched your dick fly up and softly slapped her couch. A dumbfounded giggle comes from her and she closes her legs. “So.. this is what it feels like.”

“It feels, amazing.” You leaned your head back, her soft thighs brushing and warmly gripping your dick. And softly moving around. It was mostly a Slightly Drunk Dany moving her legs around to play with her “Kings Cock.” Once it brushed against her crotch and a sensation catches her off guard. It felt good, and she wanted more. Dany placed her hands on the chair’s armrest to balance herself as she motions around, her breathing getting deeper and softer, the sensation you were feeling was something beyond imagination. Your hands gripped her waist to assist her.

“This is.. better than… i expected..” panting, Dany leaned her head back, and your hands slipped up her shirt, you slid your hands up, feeling her soft supple breasts underneath her. You leaned in, planting soft but deep kisses along her neck and it drove the Dragon Queen, a soft pinch of her nipple, a deep kiss on her neck. Her moaning filled the room, and you decided to give the dragon Queen what she deserved. Adjusting your cock you pressed against her pussy.

“Now, slide~” you held her body so warmly.

“Y-Yes~” she whines in your ear.

“Yes.. What?~” you replied.

“Yes.. my King~” she gasped, and with his Queens request you gently lowered her down on it, you felt your dick immediately get swallowed by warmth and wetness. Her gasp and deep moan signaled that she’s ready, you wrapped your arm around her waist and held onto the arm of the chair thrusting upward, you were stronger than her, making it easy to handle her body around with each punch and thrust, she bit her bottom lip to keep from yelling in pleasure.

“D-Dany.. you feel so.. fucking good! You squeezed tighter around her, the hot and sweat bending off your bodies hit the hard wood floor, which creaked slightly as you rammed your dick inside her.

“Damn you… for being so good!~” Dany let out a heavy groan. You felt the clenching of her walls on your cock, trying to drain it. You let her have it, bucking like a horse, making Dany bounce. “Fuck!” You held her waist, letting your seed erupt from the tip and into the air tight hold her pussy had on your cock. You watched her body stiffen up and her legs quiver as she has an actual orgasm. Panting, Dany leans back against you, panting, didn’t know what to say.

“Was that.. your first Orgasm?” You asked

“My.. First what?” She asked, still a bit confused of what she just felt, you laughed, softly putting your arms around her as she rested.

“.. So, you must love me now.” You say jokingly, “To have sex with me when you’ve barely known me for a day.”

Dany realized how it looked, and scoffed.

“I don’t.. I don’t love you, I.. Tolerate you.” She replied.

“Oh, well when we marry.. you can tolerate me like this for years.” You joke and snuggle up with her, Dany didn’t have the energy to argue with you, feeling your hot sweet pour down her leg. She thought to herself that yes.

She can tolerate you.

#male reader #game of throne x male reader #daenerys targeryan x male reader #daenerys targeryan #queen daenerys #smut #game of thrones smut #Ornii #game of thrones daenerys #lemon

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starogeorgina · 4 months

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𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Baratheon OC

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of animal cruelty

Chapter: 1.01

You stand before the iron throne teary-eyed; this was the goodbye you had been dreading for over a year. It was time for you to leave your home and travel to Dorne to meet your betrothed, Prince Oberyn Martell, the red viper.

The king's eyes move over the different entrances to the throne room, and many knights from the king's guard, including your uncle Jamie, stand at attention, ready to cut down any threat to the king and his family. “Your mother?”

Your mother visited your chambers the night before to inform you that Dornish men were known for ravaging women, and your wedding night will be one of the most unpleasant and painful experiences you’ll ever live through. You hadn’t seen her since then.

“We said our goodbyes last night, my king.”

He knows you’re lying; you often did when it came to Cersei. He stands and motions for you to step closer.

Your grandsire, Tywin Lannister narrows his eyes and nods. He was in full agreement that using you as a political pawn was the way forward. Joffrey stands beside him, looking bored, while Myrcella and Tommen both cry. You didn’t want to leave them, but it was your duty.

As the first legitimate child of King Robert Baratheon, you should have been next in line to the throne, but you were a daughter. So the throne would bypass you and go to the eldest male, Joffrey. The irony was that your father made you sit in his council meetings, would ask your opinions on different matters, and allowed you to sit in on your brother's sword lessons, something that your mother disapproved of. Your father had never once shown any interest in Joffrey or prepared him to rule one day.

Your father cups your face, wiping away a fallen tear with his thumb. “Cassana, my daughter, do not cry again, as I won't be there to wipe your tears anymore.”

“I will miss you, father.”

“Next time I see you, I will be at your wedding, and you will be the most beautiful bride the seven kingdoms have ever seen.”

—

“There she is.” Ellaria nudges Oberyn's shoulder and points in the direction of a young, timid-looking girl sitting on a staircase overlooking one of the ponds. “I expected her to have the famous golden lion hair.”

“Perhaps this one really is a Baratheon,” he quips. The Prince wasn’t sure if it was common knowledge or not that Cersei’s three youngest children were rumored to be fathered by their uncle Jamie. However, it appears his future bride wasn’t the result of incest.

“Princess Cassana Baratheon, the eldest daughter of King Robert, and Cersei fucking Lannister.”

Oberyn smirks at hearing the venom in his lover's voice; she hates House Lannister just as much as he does. He watches as the girl, who couldn’t have been much older than seventeen, twitches her jaw; she can sense them looking at them. He had argued with his elder brother, Prince Doran, when he agreed to the betrothal between Oberyn and the daughter of his enemy without his permission.

“Trust me, brother, this is the way.”

He should be going over to at least introduce himself, but the girl looks so terrified that Oberyn thought it was best to give her some time.

Ellaria Scoffs asks, “Why did she bring those things? Does she think Dorne doesn’t have cats?”

“Because if she left them behind, Joffrey would have killed them.”

Oberyn looks away from the girl and turns around to see the infamous imp, Tyrion Lannister, walking towards them. He was the only one willing to travel to Dorne with the princess.

Tyrion graciously accepts a cup of wine, then sits down and indulges the drink in full before continuing. “Years ago, Robert gifted my niece a kitten on her name day; he picked that particular one because he said it had curious eyes that matched his oldest daughter’s. She named it Milady. Cassana loved the little thing, and against my sister's wishes, she let it sleep in her bed, and it followed her around the keep, wherever my niece was, the kitten wasn’t far behind. It was quite cute, actually. Then one day it went missing, and Cassana searched the full red keep and cried herself to sleep every night for weeks missing it.”

Tyrion had a way of telling a story that was very intriguing, almost as if it were an old tale passed down through generations. The prince sits down on a plush yellow chair across from his quest, his arm casually swinging over the back of it. “Then what? Did she ever find it?”

A look void of emotion passes through Tyrion’s features; he clicks his tongue while refilling his cup with wine. He takes a large gulp. “One evening during dinner, Joffrey claimed to have a gift for his sister, something to cheer her up. He had a servant bring in a red silk bag, and inside it was whatever remained of Milady. Robert was horrified, of course, but Cersei stated that cats were horrid little creatures and continued eating her meal as Cassana bawled her eyes out.”

“A cunt.”

Tyrion lifts his cup in agreement with Ellaria’s statement. A Lannister’s cruelty never surprised him, but a brother being allowed to treat his own sister like that was... Oberyn had no words.

“And that was my sister being kind to her. Does that answer your question?”

“What question?”

Tilting his head back, Tyrion gives them a knowing look, as if he knew what question was burning on the tip of their tongues. “Why is this marriage allowed to go ahead? It’s because even Robert, a drunken fool of a king, knows he can’t protect his daughter from her mother’s hate.”

“The girl's eyes are swollen; is she scared that the Dornish aren’t as kind as the people of King's Landing?” Ellaria asks sarcastically.

“Cassana didn’t want to leave her father, Tommen, or Myrcella,” Tyrion answers truthfully. “She’s been shipped off to a foreign country to marry a stranger who’s twice her age, with customs she doesn’t know or understand, and it may have possibly crossed her mind that she may be used to get revenge for the sack of King's landing. Of course she’s scared.”

Ellaria's brows pull together; being a mother herself, she couldn’t fathom the idea of putting her own child in harm's way. “And the Lannisters were still willing to send her to Dorne, thinking we were nothing more than monsters wanting revenge?”

Oberyn clenches his jaw. “What was done to my sister and her children—”

“Was a travesty,” Tyrion says, cutting him off. “But my niece had nothing to do with it. And the girl is not dim; she’s under no false allusions to who her mother, father, and grandfather are.”

“And yet she loves them still.”

Tyrion shrugs. “Hmm, she loves Robert, but I wouldn’t be so sure about her feelings towards my father and Cersei.”

Oberyn crosses his legs; he was curious to learn if Tyrion was saying these things in the hope he would be sympathetic towards the girl. “Why do you think princess Cassana should be married to Martell?”

Looking over his shoulder, Tyrion smiles, observing his niece take in her new surroundings for a moment before answering. “Because I don’t believe you’ll treat her any worse than she already has been.”

—

After speaking with his guest for some time, Oberyn decides to go and introduce himself to Cassana. From everything Tyrion had told him, he felt nothing but pity for his future bride. He looks across the garden and notices his paramour glaring at the girl, who seemed content playing with her pets. Since the wedding would be held in a few months, Oberyn had extended the invitation for Tyrion to stay in Dorne so that Cassana wouldn’t be so alone.

Cassana doesn’t look back as he gets closer to her, even though she would have been able to hear him since the Prince was deliberately making his steps louder than normal. The Baratheon girl looks out of place by the way she was dressed; he’d need to have clothing that was more suited to the Dornish climate made for her.

A large black cat was stretched out across her lap, while two others playfully fought on the ground beside her feet, the sand sticking to their fur.

Oberyn sits down on the step beside her. Cassana was so caught up in her creatures that she merely offered him a polite nod before turning her attention back to the cat, which caused him to smile. “What’s its name?”

“This is Balerion. The brown one is Vhagar, and the white one is Meraxes.”

His brows arch in surprise. “You have an interest in Westeros history?”

“Mainly house Baratheon and Targaryen.”

“Why those houses?”

She continues to focus on the animal sprawled across her, scratching behind the cat's ear. Cassana nips at her tongue before answering, as if she’s thinking of an acceptable answer: “I like learning about my family’s history.”

“I imagined you’re tired of hearing about Robert’s rebellion.”

She scoffs, “The septa who taught myself and Myrcella was rather skilled in telling us the histories she wanted us to learn.”

He raises his brows and asks, “Is that so?”

“Nobody was ever going to tell us the full truth of what happened, only the parts they wanted to be remembered.”

Oberyn becomes so lost in his thoughts of the sacking of kings landing that he doesn’t even realise one of the cats had climbed up onto him until he feels the pinch of his claw on his thigh. He swallows back the poison, ready to jump from his mouth, reminding himself that the poor girl couldn’t help who her parents were. “So, who’s your favourite Baratheon then?” He asks, hoping to lighten his sudden, tense mood. “Your father?”

“No,” she chuckles. “The founder of House Baratheon, Orys Baratheon. He was the bastard son of Aerion Targaryen and stepbrother to the three conquerors.”

“The Dornish refused to bend the knee to house Targaryen during Aegon’s conquest.”

“Your words. Ours are unbowed, unbent, and unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.”

The prince was impressed; he didn’t think the Baratheon princess would have any knowledge of who Meria Martell was, let alone his house words. They sit in silence for some time, and Oberyn watches as the sun begins to disappear. The stillness is only disturbed when Cassana speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Prince Oberyn.” She finally looks up at him, her eyes full of sorrow as they meet his. “For what my family did to house Martell, I’m sorry.”

Oberyn was lost for words; he had accepted many thoughts from the daughter of Robert and Cersei, but for her to show genuine remorse wasn’t one of them.

#game of thrones #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell #Oberyn Martell/you #game of thrones fanfiction #Oberyn Martell fanfic #sweet viper #Oberyn Martell x oc #Oberyn Martell/oc

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

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The Doe That Chases the Hound

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 5123

Summary: Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

Consider this a continuation of A Good, Mean, Dog

Tommen rushed behind you, clinging to your back shaking like a leaf. It was no wonder he was hiding behind you, he was terrified of the Hound. Smiling gently at the sight of the enormous man your hand goes behind you to smooth Tommen’s golden hair soothingly. The Hound was completely unfazed by the youngest Baratheon’s cowering form and continues on his way only to stop and give you a nod.

“My lady.” His gruff voice rumbles as he addresses you. After the day he had saved you, the two of you shared simple words between one another but nothing more. It was like Sandor was somewhat afraid of getting close to you. It was like Sandor was somewhat afraid of getting close to you. You didn’t force any interactions knowing a man like Sandor needed to be eased in. From the way he always acted around you you guessed he wasn’t much used to a young maid like yourself willingly spending time with him.

Either way you always had a smile for him. He had yet to use the offer you had proposed and you found yourself actually longing for his kiss, even his touch. “Sandor. Where is that darling brother of mine? Surely you wouldn’t leave his side.” Tommen fidgets behind you wanting to leave. You continue to pet his hair lovingly with hopes pacify him.

“Lessons with the maester.” Sandor grunts, his eyes casually noticing Tommen behind you. He sees the fear in his green eyes. Bowing shortly he promptly leaves. You hear Tommen release a shuddering breath.

“Sweet lion.” you murmur and brush your fingers against his cheek. “The Hound isn’t as scary as he seems. Just be lucky that he’s on our side.”

“H-He never smiles though. . . . A-A-And his face. . .”

As elegantly as you could you kneel in front of him. “Ssh my sweet lion. No more of that. Does a lion fear a hound?” Even though he was Baratheon, him and your other siblings looked more so Lannister unlike you. You may have had Lannister eyes and your mother’s beauty, but you had your father’s dark mane of hair. The lion of Lannister better suited your younger siblings. They were golden all the way just like the Lannister sigil amongst red.

He shakes his head, mop of golden hair bouncing as he did so. You kiss the corner of his mouth and stand up, going back to holding his hand. “Let’s go. You have your lessons to attend to.”

“You speak out of line.”

You and Tommen pause outside of your father’s room. The both of you had been looking for your mother and was informed she had been heading toward the king’s chambers. His doors were closed with your Uncle Jaime standing guard. Normally when Jaime was outside you would hear moans and other obscene noises from the other side. Instead you heard your parents arguing yet again. You’re about to steer Tommen away until your mother speaks up.

“I will not have my eldest daughter going to the north. Period. Whether it be Starks or Boltons, I will not have it. Nor will she be marrying that dirty old man from the Twins.”

“Seven hells woman! Then who is she to marry?!” Robert Baratheon exclaims. It was clear that they had been talking about it for quite a while from the frustration biting in his voice.

“You can do better.” Cersei hisses. “She deserves better. She’s your first born.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you stare at the massive doors that blocked you from seeing the interaction. You catch your Uncle Jaime looking at you before he puts a finger to his lips; the same gesture he always did when you passed by your father’s room and heard something you weren’t supposed to. All you can manage to do is gawk and continue to not breathe.

“The Tyrells of High Garden have two unmarried sons. Their wealth would be beneficial to us. There are also some Lannister cousins of Casterly Rock and Lannisport that would also prove a good fit for (y/n). Any good house in the west.”

Huffing you hear a loud clinking noise, possibly caused by a flagon of wine bumping into the rim of your father’s goblet. “The Tyrells have one cripple son and the other is to be a knight. She will marry whoever I say. Maybe giving her to Oberyn Martell will get him off my ass about his sister.”

Your father really didn’t care what became of you. Jaw ticking you walk away hurriedly with Tommen in front of you. You didn’t want to hear anymore. There was only one man you dared to fantasize about being with. The only other male besides your Uncle Tyrion and your sweet Tommen who even showed you the slightest bit of warmth. A man everyone feared, a man who could protect you from any harm. Yet he was sworn to protect your rotten brother. You would only ever be a silly little princess to him. You had come to terms with your infatuation with the Hound after you offered him a kiss. It grew worse every day when you saw his towering frame following close behind the smaller one of your bratty brother. Something about the hardness of his face made you shiver in a good way. You remember how close you were to him when he saved you from your rampaging horse. How he picked you up so easily. You wanted his arms around you again. You wanted him to claim you as his and demand your father to allow a marriage. But those were just dreams. Silly, childish, dreams. You knew how this world worked. There was no way you could fool yourself. Sandor Clegane was a rough man and wouldn’t be into such romantic notions nor would he ever ask your king father for your hand in marriage. Robert would marry you off to the highest bidder. He required money to squander on whores and alcohol. Your happiness meant nothing to him, you had always known that. At least your mother cared about you. She would fight for your happiness. Cersei was still a woman though. In the end your father had the final say on all matters.

“(y/n), what were they talking about?” your brother asks innocently. You held onto his tiny hand, it was all you could do to prevent yourself from crying.

Forcing a smile you explain to him that they were choosing your future husband.

At that Tommen beams up at you. “You’re getting married?!”

You laugh at his excitement. “Some day.”

“You’ll be the most prettiest bride!”

Utterly endearing you bend over slightly and kiss his golden crown. “Will you be the one to give me away, sweet lion?”

Lush green eyes sparkle like the jewels your mother loved to wear. You wished a man could look at you with such adoration the same way your baby brother did. Instead you were met with lust filled gazes rather than adoration. Many wanted to fuck you but not love you. Men just wanted you for your body and title.

“Hopefully my husband will be as sweet as you.” You sadly muse knowing that it was very unlikely.

“And I want my wife to be just like you!”

You prayed that at least Tommen and Myrcella were set up with people who would treat them right. They were pure and good hearted, they deserved to be happy.

You saw him off to his lessons with his maester and planned to go see if your Uncle Tyrion was available. Just as you turn around though you come face to face with Ser Jaime Lannister. Apparent that he had followed you and Tommen you couldn’t think of why. He had always shown disdain for you despite you having done nothing to receive his irk.

You chew on your bottom lip before taking another step closer. “Ser Jaime, what can I do for you?”

Heavy gaze narrows toward you that has you clamming up under his scrutiny. Then he smiles. “I remember when Cersei was told she was to marry Robert Baratheon. The same age as you too. She had wanted to marry the Targaryen prince when she was younger but. . . well, we all know how that story ended.”

He had never spoken this much to you, not in all the years you had been alive. It made you nervous. “And? What did my mother do?”

“Not much she could do consider that Robert had just won the Iron Throne and declared king of all of Westeros. She would be his queen. Not really something to protest against.”

“I don’t have any hope of my father finding me a match like that.” Mumbling you knew hesitantly dart your eyes over to your uncle. What was that expression on his face? Remorse? Pity? You couldn’t tell.

Jaime shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe so.”

Sighing you nod. “That’s the way things are I suppose. . .”

“You’re a lot like your mother.” He suddenly says. “Both of you are stubborn, but strong as hell. Whatever happens, I believe you’ll get through it just as she has. You are her daughter.”

His words make you smile. “Thank you. I believe this is the first time we’ve had a heart to heart.”

The man known as the Kingslayer chuckled and playfully shook his head. “This is the first time we’ve really spoken.” Slowly he reaches out toward your dark hair and gingerly pats your head. “You’ll be fine. You’re every bit of your mother. Strong, stubborn, even scary as hell. But you’re also sweet with a kind heart. Any man would be lucky to have you as their wife. They’ll fall in love with you, I’m sure.”

Your chest clenched. “What if they don’t? What if it’s like my mother and father?”

Eyes hardening he holds onto your shoulders. “Then give him hell or your mother most likely will. You know how much she loves her children. And I’d be willing to break a few limbs if he proves to be ungallant.”

Grinning you actually feel a little better. “Thanks Uncle Jaime. Or. . . Ser Jaime I suppose.”

Gently smiling he chucks you underneath your chin and continues on his way, his cloak trailing behind him as he walks down the hall and out of view. Despite his kind and even comforting words though you couldn’t let go of the image of the man you really wanted. Jaime had claimed that any man would fall in love with you, could that possibly imply Sandor as well? Not that it mattered. It would just complicate things more if Sandor did happen to reciprocate your feelings. Which he most likely didn’t.

Chewing on your bottom lip you curl your fingers into your gown. You were your mother’s daughter. You were strong and clever just like Cersei Lannister. You would do what needed to be done despite your feelings. You were a Baratheon, princess of Westeros.

It wasn’t exactly what he had thought of doing when he was younger, but Sandor Clegane hadn’t been given many opportunities to do anything else with his life except serve the Lannister family. It was what the Cleganes had always done ever since his grandfather’s hounds saved Lord Tywin’s own father from a lion. Following around Joffrey Baratheon had it’s perks though; one being the pay was exceptional and he had a roof over his head. He did his job well too, everyone was terrified of him because of his face and his skill with a sword. He supposed he should thank Gregor for that at least if nothing else. He’d thank him someday by plunging his sword into Gregor’s throat.

Trailing behind the young prince like a looming shadow something caught his attention; or rather someone. Sandor peers over the stone balustrade into the courtyard that was lush with shrubbery and trees. It was a laugh that had drawn his attention. A musical laugh he had heard plenty times before, one that he held onto so that he could remember it before he slept.

The eldest Baratheon twirled around with her younger, blonde haired sister. Many times (y/n) Baratheon was all smiles, full of politeness that was taught to her at a very young age. There was a maturity in her emerald eyes though that was beyond her years. She genuinely smiled at Sandor which would always catch the large man off guard. He remembered how she looked at him when she offered him a kiss. She had suggested it so easily. For a minute there he swore that his heart had stopped functioning. She couldn’t have been serious. Someone as beautiful as (y/n) Baratheon wouldn’t want to kiss someone as hideous as Sandor Clegane. (y/n) could have any man she wanted; she was a bloody princess after all! Why would she bother with an old, mean, dog, like Sandor? He had done nothing good in his life to warrant any affection from any woman let alone a princess. Yet there she had stood, bathed in the gentle candle light of the corridor, as she asked him if he would like a kiss as a reward. She had looked almost surreal in that torch glow, a fleeting image with eyes as bright as wildfire. A part of him had urged him forward, to take her face in his large, rough, hands and kiss her like no other man ever has. Kiss her and never let her go. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Couldn’t bring himself to taint her. Hands that were covered in blood did not deserve to touch something as pure as her, no matter how much he wanted to. Much to his shame he had day dreamed about fucking her, as he supposed many men did. Undressing her and letting his hands roam her soft body and try to memorize every detail. Kiss those lips that she had so readily offered up to him. It wouldn’t be all about his pleasure though. He wanted to feel her squeeze around him, whether it be his cock or finger and hear her moan for him and him alone. Sandor wanted to bring her pleasure that she had never known.

That of course would never happen. King Robert would marry her off to some wealthy lord and Sandor would never see her again. So every time he managed to catch himself daydreaming he would stop immediately. Daydreaming would get him nowhere. A man like him didn’t daydream. Perhaps young maidens, but not a big, hard, man like Sandor. Daydreaming had stopped for him when his brother thrusted his head into the fire and permanently scarred him for life.

“Stupid things women are.” Joffrey muses. “Even those you’re related to. My mother and Myrcella, even (y/n). She thinks she has the authority of a man. She’ll see her wrong doings once I claim the throne. But she might not be my problem by that time. She should be married off by now. Don’t know what’s taking father so long to get rid of her.”

Like always he kept his mouth shut when Joffrey spoke about his sister like that despite it grating on his nerves. When he caused (y/n)’s horse to go out of control and nearly throw the young princess off, Sandor had half a mind to strangle him. He had always known that his charge was a cruel boy but to purposefully put one’s own sibling in danger was something else. Cruel and mean, just like Gregor. The king and queen did nothing to try and rid Joffrey of these detestable traits. They always turned a blind eye, the queen spoiling him even more. They would end up ruining him further.

Sandor was just a sworn sword though. There was nothing he could do except follow Joffrey around. He hated that more than anything else.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I convinced father to marry her off to you?” Joffrey chuckled at the thought. “Imagine her face! No prince charming but a dog!”

He stopped paying attention to what was coming out of his wormy mouth and remembered (y/n)’s alluring, striking eyes, that fluttered prettily. The more he recalled her face, the more he was certain that she had been serious about the kiss.

“Not even a kiss from a maiden fair?”

Maybe he had been a fool not to accept it. Who knew if he would ever get the chance again. A moment after that he had thought himself gallant, chivalrous even. He had to remind himself that he was no knight. Just a dog. (y/n) had said a dog was better than a knight though. He couldn’t see how that was possible.

Before continuing on their way Sandor looked over the balustrade one last time and by chance (y/n) had looked up at the same exact moment. Coal black meeting the brilliant flames of wildfire. She smiled up at him and waved. Not for the first time, Sandor felt like she had stolen the breath right out of him. He couldn’t bare to look at her any longer lest he get burned.

Their heads had grown heavy against your shoulders after a while, indicating that they had fallen asleep. Gently you close the book you had been reading and bask in the love you felt for you two younger siblings. Why had Joffrey not turned out like them? Sweet and gentle. Sweet and gentle they may be, yet Myrcella was beginning to show signs of being smart and resilient as well. She would make a man very happy, you were sure.

You sighed and leaned against your bed frame. They didn’t offer you much room to move, keeping you trapped between them. Delicately you brush a stray strand of gold away from Myrcella’s face. What was she dreaming about? Maybe about the dragons you had been ready to them before they fell asleep. Tommen sometimes thought they were scary, but not Myrcella. She was fascinated with them just like you. Maybe you would bring her back a small skull from the cellar room that your uncle had shown you. A bit of Targaryen blood did run in the Baratheons after all.

You hadn’t realized that your mother had been present in your room for a while now. She was smiling at the sight of the three of you. You knew nothing made her happier than seeing her children together.

“Shall I get someone to bring them to their beds?” She whispers.

“No. Let them sleep. They’ll wake soon.”

Cersei quietly makes her way to the edge of your bed and carefully perches herself on the edge. No matter what she did, Cersei was the perfect lady and did everything elegantly. Even sitting seemed like an artform when Cersei did it. “When I look at you with them I start to imagine how wonderful a mother you’ll be.”

Your throat closes and you suddenly find your siblings closeness to be suffocating. “A bit too soon to be thinking about my children.”

“Not at all.” Her voice is sad, her eyes even more so. “(y/n)-”

“I know.” You close your eyes and focus on your breathing. “I know mother. I. . . overheard you and father today. I didn’t mean to, but when I heard that you were talking about my betrothal. . . can you blame me?”

“Of course not.” she sighs and reaches out to hold your hand. “I know this kind of thing isn’t easy. I myself struggled with being married off.”

“You ended up marrying a king though.”

Cersei laughs bitterly. “Yes and you see how our marriage is. You’re smart (y/n), you should know already that things don’t always turn out the way you want them to. No matter who you end up with though I want you to be strong. I know you’ll be strong.”

“Uncle Jaime told me the same thing. And here I thought he never liked me.”

“Why would you think that?”

You shrug. “He’s always been very cold toward me before. I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t look like a Lannister.”

Cersei squeezes your hand in a comforting manner. “My love, your uncle loves you as he does your brothers and sister. You are his blood. Blood means everything to us.”

“Mother. . . did you love anyone before you were to be married to Rob- I mean, father?”

Her eyes try to pry into your true meaning of your question. “Yes.”

You squirm a bit between your siblings. “What did you do when you found out you couldn’t be with them?”

She lets go of your hand and looks away. You had never asked your mother so much about her personal life. By the way she was acting you could only guess it was a sensitive topic. Maybe she still loved that person even now. “I did what I had to do for our family.” That was all she was going to tell you.

You let the subject go.

Something you wished you could do with your affections for the Hound. You tried be logical and list the reasons why you liked him so much. The list went on and on, even beyond the fact that he had saved you. You started thinking back before that had happened. Yes, there was always something there. Perhaps your budding womanhood and hormones played into it. He was the closest man to you that you weren’t related to. There were much younger guards and more attractive as well, but you felt nothing for them. They couldn’t compare to Sandor. Not to you at least. Even the most handsome knight couldn’t get your heart to flutter. They couldn’t arouse you the way Sandor did with just one look at you.

“What are you doing all by yourself?”

You tell your heart to shut up as it pounds frantically in response to Sandor’s voice. Briefly looking over your shoulder you find him standing a few feet away from you in the corridor. Turning your face back to the window you whisper “My father and mother have been discussing who I am to marry.” You don’t know why you’re telling him, he probably didn’t care one lick. “I mean I expected as much, it’s always been my fate, but hearing them barter over me like I’m some animal is a little disheartening.” You shrug. “Oh well.” You don’t know if he’s still there until you hear his feet thump against the ground as he advances. You scold yourself for spewing all that on him. “Sorry. Probably boring, huh?”

“And who would you marry? Some handsome knight or lord. Is that what you’re worried about? Them sending you off to marry someone hideous?”

Shocked to hear the slight annoyance in his voice you clam up slightly. You couldn’t admit to him that that was slightly what you were worried about. He probably already thought you were vain and spoiled like your mother.

“Someone could be beautiful and still be cruel.” You murmur and turn to look up at him. Many thought your brother Joffrey to be handsome but not all handsome men are kind. He had proved to be mean and vicious. “That’s not my main concern. It’s the thought of being sent to a complete stranger. He could be fat for all I care. Just as long as he’s nice. . . I don’t want to be in a marriage like my mother’s. I. . .”

Biting your lip you shake your head and start to walk away.

“You what?”

You turn with sullen eyes and a hint of redness to your cheeks that you didn’t want to admit. “I want love. I want to be loved. It’s ridiculous, I know, but I found myself wanting it. There’s a man here who I have found has total claim to my heart and I’ll never get to tell him nor will I ever get to kiss him despite me having offered my lips to him. I’ve come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t return my affections.” Carefully you steal a look of Sandor, not knowing if he had put two and two together. Your heart raced at the fact you had confessed about your feelings for him.

Wanting to hold your ground as he stared at you you couldn’t help but fidget a bit. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

She couldn’t have meant him. But he couldn’t deny it any longer unless she went around offering kisses to other guards which Sandor didn’t think she did. She wasn’t that kind of lady. (y/n) did have feelings for him. He was reeling at the sudden realization. His brain couldn’t even process it.

Sandor noticed the slight fear that washed over her face as he didn’t say anything. What could he say? He’d never been in such a situation before.

He turned on his heel and walked away.

You didn’t know what you had been expecting. He had probably grown tired of your complaining. No matter what you tried to tell yourself you couldn’t help the devastation that ripped you apart from the inside. It was hard to breathe as you turned away as well and took small steps, your hand clinging to your chest as you bite down on your lip and try not to cry. A foolish little girl you were.

You heard Sandor growl loudly from the other side of the hall “Fuck it.”

A strong hand twirled you around to face him and you could only stare wide eyed at him. Considering you were much smaller than him he had to lean down considerably to kiss you roughly. Exactly as you had imagined a kiss from him would be like you tilt your face ever so slowly to deepen it. Urgent and needing for all of you, something you had never felt from anyone. You had never felt so wanted by anyone. Sure you had seen the glances men gave you, but you never wanted them. You wanted Sandor though. And it so happened he wanted you too. Whether it was purely lust or he truly loved you, you didn’t care at the moment. You wanted more of him. Warmth licked at the walls of your belly as your hands roam up his chest and to his large shoulders. Once the two of you pulled away you were light headed and swimming with desire. Sandor looked at you with half lidded eyes. You had never seen such a gentle look on his face. Even when he had saved you his face had still been stern.

“Why do you want an old dog like me?” He suddenly asks with a rasping voice. “I’m nothing pretty to look at and I’ve killed people.”

Admitting, your hands gingerly move from his shoulders to cup his scruffy, burned, face. You gave him plenty of time to pull your hands away if he didn’t want to be touched. But he let you caress his face. “I’ve asked myself that question for quite a while.” You notice him shudder under your feather light touch. Had he ever experienced a gentle touch before? Surely his mother must’ve held and kissed him when he was younger. You realized you knew so little about him besides the fact that his brother had shoved his face into a fire at such a young age. Sandor’s gaze is unrelenting but you find it so comforting. “Even before you saved me from Blue Moon. I had always assumed it was a stupid little crush because you were the only kind man around me other than my Uncle Tyrion or Tommen.”

That makes him scoff. “Kind?”

You nod. “Yes, kind. All other men feign at being kind in hopes of me letting them under my skirt. My father doesn’t care for me and I know for certain Joffrey would rather have me dead. But you. . . You were different. True, you’re rough and a brute. Terrifying to everyone. That’s what your brother made you though. That’s what you have to do to survive in this world. I found myself admiring you too. Among other things. . .” Blushing you retrieve your hands from his face.

“You’re a weird one.” Sandor grumbles, averting his dark gaze from you. You note the hint of shyness that made his movement more coy.

Everything about him was endearing to you and the more you fell in love with him, the more you discovered about the towering man. He was insecure, self-conscious, and unknowingly craving a gentle human touch. Sandor was completely perplexed by your affections and you realized he might be even more so confused of his own feelings. The fact he had walked away at first revealed to you that he had been trying to restrain himself. Whatever he felt for you though was too much for him to maintain control over. You still feel pressure on your lips and you knew that you wanted more. Ever the greedy princess, you wanted all of Sandor Clegane. You didn’t know how to go about enticing him for more though. Getting him to kiss you had been like pulling teeth. You tried to think what any other woman would do. You tried thinking what your mother would do and the answer was simple: she would demand it. Could you be brazen enough to demand that Sandor join you in your bed? You were still so young and didn’t know much about that area of life. He would possibly think you still a child if you mucked things up.

You didn’t want him to think you loose though. Instead you balanced on your tippy toes to kiss him again. Sandor growled as he wrapped an arm around your waist. The only sound was the echoing of your kisses and the soft gasp that you let out when he pressed you against the wall. His coarse beard was rough against your face, but you took pleasure from it and in all the rough affection he delivered to you. Arousal made your legs weak as his large hands deftly roam over your body and slightly hikes up your leg to wrap around his waist. Sandor was fully supporting your body now as you were completely lifted off of the ground. Nose brushing against your’s, his lips ghost over your swollen ones as you pant slightly.

“You’re a troublesome girl.” He roughly tells you but the look in his eyes tells you something differently.

Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

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atomic--peach · 1 year

Text

Her Grace's Handmaid Pt.9

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Sandor Clegane SMUT: Breeding Kink, Semi-public sex)

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

You had no idea when your visit to the North took such a grim turn, but you had a sneaking suspicion it started when the queen began to task you with more and more of her children's upkeep.

"Consider it practice for your own" she assured you as she took up her cloak one evening.

You knew better than to ask where she was going, even as a Lady that was beyond your station.

Between Joffery battling with Rob Stark, Tommen's near constant skinned knees, and Marcella's whining of boredom, you found yourself overwhelmed with the task. It was an all day chore and despite it being impressed upon you that you were expected to get pregnant quickly, you could find very little time for it.

"Need some company?" you looked up from monitoring Tommen and found Lady Stark standing over you.

"Oh, please." You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You know" Lady Stark looked over her shoulder. "Sometimes it helps if you let them hurt themselves just a little bit."

"Really?"

"That's the only way some children learn" she shrugged. "Take my Arya for example. It doesn't matter how many times you tell her something, if she doesn't learn the hard way she won't learn at all. Here, watch-" she motioned to Tommen who was about to curiously touch a stinging nettle for what must have been the 10th time that day.

"Tom-"

"No, no." Lady Stark stopped you, "let him learn on his own"

You held your breath as the 5 year old wrapped a pudgy hand around the nettle leaves and instantly cried out, more out of fear than pain.

"Oh dear" you scooped him up and placed him on you lap to soothe him. "There, there little prince. You're alright. I told you not to play with the nettles, darling."

Tommen sobbed briefly into your shoulder until he caught his breath and sniffed pitifully.

"There now," Lady Stark caressed his light blonde curls, "I bet you won't play with nettles again, isn't that right?"

The tot nodded ruefully and slipped off your lap to return to his carved toy soldiers.

Catelyn smiled approvingly before glancing over your shoulder and nudging you with her shoe, "You're being watched, my dear."

You glanced behind you to find your husband looming half in the shadows of the stables, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

"Go on. I'll watch him for a bit" Catelyn goaded you with a mischievous smile.

"Oh, I couldn't do that. You shouldn't have-"

"Go." Catelyn pushed again. "I was a newlywed once. Just....make it quick"

You blushed and glanced around before slipping into the stables, searching for Sandor around each corner until you found him in an empty stall in the back.

"Husband" you greeted Sandor expectantly.

"Wife" he nodded with a smirk.

"A quickie in the hay? What are we teenagers?" you joked, pressing yourself up against him firmly, one hand wandering to the laces of his trousers. "I only have a few minutes, Lady Stark is manning my post"

You gasped as two large hands pressed into your waists with much more care than they had the first time you found yourself into a similar position.

"I can work with that." Sandor assured you, setting you on the edge of the stall divider, your back pressed against a beam while your ass balanced on the edge.

You quickly raised your skirts as he fumbled with his own clothes between kissing mouths and groping hands.

There was something exciting about it, you thought as your husband pushed into you with little resistance. The chance of someone, anyone, walking in. The knowledge that you'd have to walk back out of here trying to seem as casual as possible, as if you hadn't just been fucked within an inch of your life and The Hound's cum wasn't dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck, Sandor. A little higher" you instructed him between pants, muffling your moans into the leather of his jerkin when his length began to fuck into you at the best possible angle.

Sandor found it easier to keep quiet during sex, but his fingers weaved themselves through your hair and gripped it tightly. Ensuring you'd have to at least try to re do it when you were done.

"Don't stop," you begged him, crossing your ankles around his hips to pull him closer "so close, just keep going"

Your husband, ever eager to please you, obeyed and picked up the pace. The hand on your hip keeping you balanced gripped into your flesh hard and you knew he wouldn't last much longer.

You pushed a hand between the two of you, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fiercely with two fingers to hurry you both along. Sandor finished first, pulling you tightly to his chest and muffling himself in your neck as you felt the heat of his seed fill you.

Not one to be left behind, you kept your legs locked around him firmly and let your cunt milk him dry as waves of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks. Leaning against the beam behind you with your husband half collapsed on your shoulder, you both took a moment to catch your breath before climbing down and trying to make yourselves look presentable.

"Fuck, my hair" you laughed, pulling out stray bits of straw and opting to just take it all down and wrap in back into a bun instead. "Way to be subtle."

"Fuck you, you loved it" Sandor shot back, pulling you in for a brief kiss, "We should go before we're missed"

"I know, I-"

You never finished your sentence.

A bloodcurdling scream peirced the air and set the entire court yard into action.

"Oh Gods, the children!" The little prince and princess were the first thing on your mind as you dashed out of the stables, kicking up straw and dust behind you.

Tommen was with Marcella and after a quick once over, you found neither of them were hurt.

"Princess, where is the Lady Catelyn?" You asked the 10 year old who had started to cry.

"She- she went to-to find..." The princess struggled to get the words out between fearful sobs.

"Shshsh" you caressed her rosey face gently and hugged her and Tommen to you, "It's okay, stay close to me."

Sandor located Joffrey quickly enough and brought him to join his siblings despite his princely objections.

"Sandor, what's happening?"

"I don't know, someone got hurt that's all I can make sense of" his hand sat on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw at any given moment.

A mob of at least 10 men came barreling through the courtyard and you watched as the Winterfell Maester rushed past you with a look of grim dread spreadinh across his aged face.

The whispers around you began to take on more and more detail.

Stark boy

Climbing

Fall

Dead

"Oh Gods" you gripped the children as the mob came back, slowly toting a cot on their shoulders that bore the scant body of a boy no more than 10. "Children, don't look. Don't"

Catelyn Stark, who the whispers said found the boy at the base of an unused tower, followed the procession supported by her eldest boy and the Winterfell ward, Theon Greyjoy.

Her body was ghostly white and nearly limp as her wails echoed through the yard and raised the hairs on your neck.

"That poor, poor woman" you breathed solemnly. "Come children, we should find your mother."

Cersei, for some reason or another, proved strangely hard to track down. When you did find her, she looked oddly tense.

"Your grace," you breathed, "There's been a terrible accident"

You recounted the scene in the courtyard, which the queen received with an almost expressionless face.

"How dreadful" she breathed, "simply awful. That poor boy."

She reached out to put her hand on yourself with a kind smile, "You've been through quite an ordeal. I'll send the children to their Septa, you should go rest. You look tense."

You began to object, assuring her you were perfectly fine, just a little shaken. But she insisted firmly that you were tired and should rest.

-----------

The rest of the visit was frightfully grim, and insanely boring.

In light of Bran Stark's injuries, all events planned by the king had been canceled. Instead everyone waited around with bated breath, each day waiting to hear if the little lord made it through the night.

"I miss the south" you finally said one night, tucked under Sandor's arm

"Go to sleep"

"I can't"

"Why not?"

You didn't have an answer. With a frustrated grumble, your husband pulled you closer, practically on top of you.

"We're leaving in 2 days. You can make it, I promise."

"You don't know that" you smiled a little, teasing him, "This Northern air may kill me"

"Oh, because the air in King's Landing is such an improvement."

"It's familiar"

"Hm" Sandor pressed a kiss to your temple before rolling over, "Go to bed before I fuck you to sleep"

"Promise?" You scoffed, leaning over his shoulder and leaving a trail of kisses up to his ear. "Seriously though, I do have a question."

"Oh for fucks sake."

"It's important" you insisted, "When we get back, the queen is going out of her way to make me a member of her court. She's showing me immense favor."

"And?"

"And..." you breathed, "I have a feeling she's going to want things to go back to the way they were....and I need to know if you're okay with that."

Sandor mumbled under his breath but sat up to face you. "Does that matter?"

"Of course it does." You scoffed, "listen I know neither of us intended to get married, but you are my husband. And I like that you are my husband. And if this is going to make you uncomfortable, then I need to know so I can find a way out of it."

Sandor stared at you a moment, considering this. It hadn't really occurred to him that he'd have any say in the situation.

"Well, you've come this far" he breathed, pulling you against him, "if fucking the queen makes life easier for the both of us, then hell, fuck the queen"

"Really?"

"Shit, if it did me any good, I'd fuck her too." Sandor chuckled, "but if I see that cunt of a brother of hers getting too friendly, I'll throw his ass from a tower"

#sandor clegane smut #sandor clegane imagine #sandor clegane x reader #cersei lannister x reader #game of throne fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #Her Grace's Handmaiden

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romancingromanoff · 8 months

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Hi there, your stories are amazing, I really love them, I was wondering if you could do a margaery tyrell x F targaryen reader, where the reader is the sister of daenerys, and she also has a personality like her badass ancestor visenya instead of being ladylike

Sorry this took so long but I had a lot of fun with this request. It made me realize how much I miss writing for GoT and Margaery. I made our reader similar to Visenya in the sense that they share a love for combat and have tenacious spirits, but she isn't a complete carbon copy of her ancestor and lacks more of the diplomatic skill/finesse she was also known for. I hope you enjoy and thank you!

Daenerys was finally on the throne. You had already left Essos with a massive force the world had not seen in centuries with the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and three full grown dragons at your sister’s command. With the additional support from the Tyrells, the Dornish, and the Greyjoys, Cersei Lannister stood absolutely no chance. As Dany rode on Drogon and you rode Viserion, the sky over King’s Landing and the Red Keep instantly darkened.

The smallfolk and many of Cersei’s supporters had already begun to turn on her after the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor. Luckily, Margaery Tyrell and a few others had been able to escape thanks to her sharp wits and quick thinking, while the High Sparrow and the majority of his followers had perished in the explosion. Poor King Tommen, who was under the impression that his wife had been killed, had taken his own life soon after by jumping from the Red Keep. As your army surrounded King’s Landing, the City Watch peacefully surrendered before any blood needed to be shed and your forces quickly closed in on the queen. There were a few loyal members of the Kingsguard that were willing to put down their lives for their queen, the most notable among them being the Kingslayer himself, however, they could only delay the inevitable.

Your father’s murderer was swiftly stabbed in the back by Grey Worm, killed the exact same way he had betrayed his king. Every part of you envied your friend for being the one to end the Kingslayer’s life. You were told that Cersei broke down upon watching her brother and lover die protecting her. She had poison on hand which she planned to use on herself but wasn’t quick enough to evade capture. No, she would not get a swift death. Dany had her presented to the entire city and lit her up with Drogon’s dragon fire in the tradition of your ancestors. She died screaming for mercy while the crowds cheered, the tyrant queen was finally gone.

Unfortunately, there had been very little time to celebrate your victory before a convoy from the North traveled down with news of an ancient threat that sought to wipe out all of humanity.

Neither you or Dany believed that the White Walkers actually existed until you flew north of the wall yourselves to witness the army of the dead with your own eyes. You immediately summoned dragon fire to try and destroy whatever portions of the army you could, but then Viserion and you had nearly been killed in the attack when an unimaginably deadly spear made of ice had been launched in your direction by the Night King himself. Viserion dove quickly and turned his body so that you wouldn’t be hit but part of his left wing was snagged and soon the two of you were falling out of the sky. Your dragon was able to soften the landing for you as best as he could but the impact was still extremely damaging on your body.

Being more of a fighter, you had suffered your fair share of injuries in the past. Around your sixth nameday, a special sling had to be made for your arm. You had broken it while wielding a large stick you found in the gardens of one of the many sponsors in Essos you lived with before moving onto the next. In your mind, you imagined it was the Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister that had once belonged to your great ancestor Visenya Targaryen. One jump off of the roof with your imaginary dragon had led to a nasty fall and started a series of mostly self-induced, reckless wounds.

Scars covered your body, telling the stories of every horse you’d fallen off of and time you’d wrestled a Dothraki warrior that was easily twice your size. Daenerys hated how eager you were to pick up any sword or bow you could get your hands on but understood that trying to stop you only fueled the fire in your veins. When she had entered the funeral pyre and given birth to her three dragons, the only thing you could talk about from then on out was when they’d be large enough to ride. Not once did you worry about the possibility of falling out of the sky.

It took an entire week before you finally awoke, your first action trying to scramble out of bed despite the maesterscolding you for breaking several of your stitches. You had to know if your sister and friends were safe. Dany soon informed you that you were back in King’s Landing where Viserion was also healing. It was truly a relief to find out that he would be okay. Then your sister informed you of her plan to return to the north and aid in the fight against the dead at Winterfell while you were ordered to stay and rest in the capital.

“Dany, please!” You protested with every ounce of energy you had, causing a sharp pain to rip through your shoulder. “Let me go with you. I won’t let you do this alone!”

“You are in no shape to fight, sister, and neither is your dragon. As your queen, I order you to stay here. I still have not been crowned and I need someone I can trust to guard the iron throne.”

It was a fight you knew you could not win, yet you dreaded being left alone in this strange city. “We have no allies here. I have no friends. Please, let me at least go with you to Winterfell and I won’t fight, I give you my word.” The thought of not being able to participate in the battle pained you but you at least wanted to be there for support.

Your sister adamantly shook her head. “No, I will not gamble with your life. You are my heir and the only other person I trust to enact our mission. That is my final decision. Missandei and a few of the Unsullied will stay here with you. You should take the opportunity to get to know the people here, learn about the culture and make more allies. Many in Westeros still view us as foreigners and I need to know who I can truly trust to fully support my reign.”

“Dany, you know I’m hopeless when it comes to this stuff,” you sighed and could already tell your head would be hurting for weeks if you were forced to sit and make pleasantries with strangers. Between you and your sister, she had always been more naturally gifted in the ways of diplomacy and charming others to listen to her words. You, on the other hand, were more inclined to laugh at the absolute worst moment of a conversation or trip over your own words and accidentally curse in a way completely unfit for a highborn lady. “If it’s seven kingdoms you wish to rule then you’ll ensure I’m not able to make a fool of myself in front of the most powerful families in Westeros.”

There was no convincing her. Your eyes stung stung for hours when your sister left you behind. In the following days, more agonizing than your wounds was the dreadful feeling of not knowing whether or not your friends were alive or dead. Being bedridden you felt completely helpless as the days came and went with no ravens delivering news of any sort of outcome yet. After a few days, you were finally given permission to try and walk again and took every opportunity to explore the castle. Missandei eventually tried to force you to rest and it took a great deal of effort to ditch her. Trying to shuffle as quickly as you could through several smaller corridors resulted in you being completely lost.

That was where you first met Margaery Tyrell. Somehow, she managed to sneak up on you the third time you realized you had walked past the same statue. “Your grace,” she performed a small curtsy in front of you. “I’m glad to see you have progressed tremendously from your injuries. I’m Margaery of the House Tyrell, truly, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I…“ Oh gods, you weren’t prepared for this at all. It was like you instantly had forgotten how to speak. Many had said that Margaery was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. And although you had seen very little of the seven kingdoms thus far, you were inclined to agree. She was utterly breathtaking, with honeyed hair and hypnotic eyes. You cursed at yourself for leaving Missandei, the only person that might have been able to save you in this current situation. You needed her to say absolutely anything else in literally any of the several languages she spoke. Even gibberish would have been better than you just standing there gaping at the poor lady.

She went ahead and continued speaking after you failed to respond with anything more than a wordless stare. “May I assist you in any way? I know how daunting finding your way around the castle can be. During my first two weeks of living here I got lost on my way to the Great Hall and found myself in a sunken courtyard where two men conversed with one another in a foreign language I didn’t recognize and ignored my presence when I tried to ask for help in Common Tongue. I had to wait for a cook to come rescue me and that was only because he was chasing a pigeon that had stolen his spoon from the kitchen!”

It was unclear whether or not you were meant to laugh at her anecdote and you didn’t want to risk doing the wrong thing. But then Margaery herself began chuckling at her previous misfortune and you felt relaxed enough to lift your lips into a small smile. Her energy was contagious and frankly, so was the sound of her laughter. You immediately wished to hear more of it.

“Yes, well… It’s, uh, strange never having been here myself but knowing my family has walked these halls for generations. I asked a servant if the rumors that dead Targaryens haunt the corridors were true and she nearly fainted. I suppose that answered my question. Honestly, it would be nice if their ghosts could offer me any directions.”

You worried that you might have overshared, although you had only been trying to follow Margaery’s lead. But the charming woman in front of you suddenly burst into the most melodic laughter you’d ever heard and a strange warmth rushed into your face.

“That would be helpful, wouldn’t it, if those from the past could offer their wisdom to us before we make the exact same mistakes they did?”

“Yes, exactly!” The fact that the two of you are on the same page has you giggling with complete elation. “Do you ever think about your dead family?”

As soon as the words left your mouth you only realized what you just said. Oh gods, why did you have to phrase it like that? How foolish did you have to be to forget that her own brother, Loras Tyrell, had been unable to escape the Great Sept not even two moons ago?

Margaery blinked twice, staring at you mildly stunned. It was the same look you see on your sister’s face whenever tries to hold in a cringe and realizes she’ll have to offer up an explanation for your infantile behavior.

“I-I must apologize, my lady, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” You took several steps back from the woman, unsure if she wanted to turn and leave so you were prepared to excuse yourself first. “I understand if you want me to leave.”

“It’s alright. Please, stay.” You felt her hand reach for your wrist and although her touch was nothing but gentle it startled you. Your eyebrows immediately shot up like she had frozen you by some strange magic. “You’ve done nothing to offend me. I suppose I was simply surprised by your choice of words.”

You released a breath you’d been holding. “That tends to be a regular occurrence I’m afraid. My lady, I truly am sorry about the loss of your brother. My own was rather cruel and I feared him since I was a small child, yet his death unsettled me greatly even though he deserved it. I understand you were very close with yours and no one deserves that sort of fate. You and your family have my deepest condolences.”

“Thank you,” Margaery spoke more softly before with a new contemplative look in her eyes. “Loras was deeply misunderstood and unfortunately people weren’t very accepting of his differences. I wish he had been able to freely live as himself without judgment.”

It sounded all too familiar. Recently, people you knew had spoken about the youngest Tyrell son’s… sexual preferences… But you always tried to avert your attention from such conversations when you came across them, even if the participants didn’t seem hostile with their judgment. You were no longer in Essos where people like yourself were generally more accepted in society. And although the High Sparrow and his fanatics were gone, members of the Faith of the Seven continued to persecute others like you.

“I understand the feeling. My sister and I hope to build a new Westeros where everyone is free to make their own decisions. A place that’s free of judgment and everyone can decide their own future, so long as it is done fairly. The weak and the poor will no longer break their backs for greedy men that would abuse them for a few coins.”

“I should be quite fortunate to witness it,” she gave you a bright smile and offered you her arm, which you hesitated to take at first. A part of you knew even the slightest bit of her touch would be addicting for you, which turned out to be correct. She guided you throughout the rest of the castle and you decided that you’d let her lead you anywhere.

You found it strange when only a fortnight had passed and surprisingly you felt as if you’d been friends with MargaeryTyrell much longer. Whether you were struggling to find the proper words to use or going off on one of your many animated tangents, the southern lady never judged nor criticized you. It quickly became evident that she was a master at socializing and had no problem carrying the conversation on her own when you internally fussed over what to say. However, she was also eager to listen when you finally let one of your passionate ramblings pour from your heart. Even subjects that were positively unladylike, which you had first assumed would be of no interest to your new companion, became effortlessly easy to talk about with her.

“Valyrian steel is objectively the best material to use if you ever needed an amputation. It cuts clean through skin, flesh, and bone, unlike more blunt blades which would be more likely to cause even greater injury. I’ve seen some medics have to practically saw their tools back and forth through limbs in order to get them to detach. It’s completely gruesome!”

“And Dark Sister, that was the one you used to pretend to have?” Margaery’s eyes shimmered like she was completely enthralled in your story. Never once did you think she’d call you a freak or too violent to be considered a lady.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. It was Visenya’s during Aegon’s conquests. I’ve always wanted to be a warrior like her for as long as I can remember. Of course Viserys only ever saw me and Daenerys as pawns easy enough to use, as was his right he said, to help take back his throne.”

“What he did was cruel and how I wish you had been treated better. Had a better childhood surrounded by your loved ones and a proper place to call home. I’m sure we would have met sooner, perhaps here at court. Except then you’d be the one showing me around and rescuing me from becoming lost!”

There’s nothing you could do to stop the blush from filling your cheeks as you imagined this rewritten version of history and who you might have been had things been different. The past wasn’t something you liked to dwell on too often as you knew there was no point in trying to change things, but one other thing had become incredibly clear about your future. You couldn’t imagine it without Margaery in your life.

Daenerys was finally due to come back tomorrow and while you were certainly eager to see her and have her introduced to Margaery, many other mixed emotions came with the letter she had most recently sent you. She’d mentioned several losses over the series of battles that had taken place up north. You knew victory would never have been easily won, but feared finding out which friends’ faces had been permanently taken from your life. Thankfully, Margaery was there to listen to you express your anxieties.

“I have this horrible feeling that Jorah is dead. As complicated as his past was, I never doubted that he would lay down his own life to save me or my sister. He once promised me that he would never leave us and yet somehow, I know he’s gone and done just that.”

“I will be here for you every step of the way,” Margaery assured you, grabbing your hands and softly rubbing her thumbs upon the tops of them. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I may not know any of your friends but I will not leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you promise?” You squeezed her hands tighter, gazing up into her wide eyes and looking for any sign of uncertainty. There were so few people in this world that you’d let get to know the real you, and even fewer that had stayed and accepted it.

Her eyes softened, and in a way of almost sealing her promise she slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of you. You were a princess as your sister was the queen and people were regularly brought to bow before you just the same. Still, the way Margaery executed it without ever breaking eye contact made her particular act feel incredibly intimate, like she was pledging her loyalty not only to your blood or titles, but simply because it was you.

“I promise, my little dragon. Where you go, I go.” It was whenever she made statements like this that you almost believed she might have felt the same way as you did about her.

A snarky smile crept across your face. “Does that mean you’ll finally ride Viserion with me?” You’d recently been begging the woman you were infatuated with for a chance to impress her with the one experience you knew she would not have had. Or could find anywhere else.

She let out a nervous laugh. “You forget, my dear, that I am a rose and am meant to be firmly planted into the ground. And while I’m sure Viserion has no qualms with you riding him, he’s surely to be mistrustful of a stranger like me. There are no dragon riders in my family’s history, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe you’re a stranger to him as of now but we can remedy that! I am bonded to him more deeply than humans can be with normal animals, which means he should inherently trust you as much as I do. He’s going to love you, I know it. Margaery, you must know I would never put you into danger like that.”

There was a substantial amount of hesitance which began to fade from her eyes. You tried to show her what you believed was your most empathetic look and you watched as your words caused the last few threads of doubt to come undone.

“I trust you as well. But I shall have to ask for something small in return, if you’d agree to it.”

She could’ve asked you for the world and you knew you would give it to her. The two of you then struck a deal and made your way to dragon pit.

Viserion was already in protective mode as you approached him, making sure he had at least one eye on Margeary at all times. You started to speak to him in High Valyrian, explaining that you had brought a special friend and your comfort around her appeared to ease him. The golden rose tried to remain calm throughout the whole ordeal as well, though you sensed that she was dealing with a reasonable amount of nerves deep down. Her hand timidly reached out for yours, in a way that was surprisingly bashful for the normally confident woman, and you immediately accepted her touch.

Three circles around King’s Landing was all it took to change Margaery’s mind about flying. A perfectly blue and cloudless sky made for the perfect views. The few screams she attempted to stifle had turned into pure uninhibited laughter by the second lap, and you only landed shortly after to be certain you weren’t overworking Viserion so soon after his injury.

As much joy spending time with Margaery brought you, there was a voice from your past softly whispering in your ear, telling you not to get too attached. You were a dragon but you had been burned before. Dany was the only other person that truly knew how complicated your relationship with Doreah had been. Completely smitten with her from the start, it was easy enough for her to win over your innocent heart with a few stolen kisses and flirtatious words. She made you believe you were her favorite and even more special than your sister. It eventually drew a wedge between you and Danythat gave Doreah the opportunity to betray the both of you. Worst of all, you couldn’t prove it but you knew she had killed Irri too.

“Now do you see why I told you not to trust her?” Both your sister’s embrace and her words were firm as she had turned from the vault where Doreah and Xaro Xhoan Daxos were sealed inside. Your body was still shaking but Daenerys was determined for you to remember every detail of that exact moment. “As Targaryens, people will always envy our power and try not only to take it but to have us give it to them if they can.”

“I won’t ever let us feel like that again, sister, I swear it,” you had promised with the utmost sincerity.

You never let yourself fall for another again until you invited Margaery Targaryen to accompany you on Viserion and it made you feel alive again. The realization began to set in when your feet landed back on the ground, with a heaviness in both your heart and your knees suddenly overtaking you. Margaery naturally caught sight of the grimace on your face and asked if everything was alright. Honestly, you didn’t even know what the truth was.

“Margaery,” the gravity in your voice made even Viserion shift uncomfortably. You knew you had to be honest to receive honesty in return. “I will grant whatever favor you request of me as I am a woman and princess of my word. I only ask that you be sincere with me. Getting to know you recently has felt like a breath of fresh air, but I have been used and toyed with for my name and my power since I was born. You are a woman of noble birth with the duty of uplifting your family and house. I can respect that. It is also evident that you are more than capable of securing your own means of influence. You have been wed to three men that have called themselves ‘King’. It would be foolish of you not to try and befriend me, but I must know, what is it that you really want?”

Margaery sighed and momentarily averted her gaze from you. You’d never seen her that reserved before. Having her be the one too nervous to open up to you was a strange switch in the roles you’d mostly settled in over the past few weeks. It made you eager to demonstrate the lack of judgment you held on your part. You ached to be someone she could trust and every second of silence that passed had you sitting in bitter anticipation.

When she finally spoke, it was with a solemn sense of conviction. “I have wanted to be Queen for so long. You’re not wrong to assume it has completely consumed my life. These past few years have been especially driven by my obsession, which might have started as a seed planted by my family but became fully grown and sustained by my own ambition a long time ago.”

She paused after that, clearly unaccustomed to the position she had found herself in. There was also something else about her demeanor that you couldn’t clearly define. Shame, regret, possibly even indignation? You slowly leaned in closer, careful to make sure you weren’t overstepping, but wanting to show that you were there for her.

“I was always maintaining a specific persona, trying to play the role of a voice for the poor when I only cared about how the publicity could serve my own interests. I was not like you or your sister. Truthfully, I made very little effort to help anyone aside from myself and my family and never sacrificed more than a few comforts or dresses I dirtied. Even when I was officially the queen, all the power that came with the crown wasn’t enough to save my brother from the animosity and unfairness which runs so deeply in the establishments that uphold our society. Things that I didn’t spare a second thought for until they came to hurt the ones I love and it was too late to do anything.

“Margaery,” you shook your head and bravely reached for her hands. “None of what happened is your fault. You’re only one person and shouldn’t put the pressure to change history and customs by yourself. We’re all human.”

She squeezed your hands tightly, pulling you closer to her so that only a few inches separated your faces. Gods, being near her affected you like a powerful drug. She smelled of roses and fresh morning dew in the early spring as you expected from a lady of Highgarden. There was something in her presence that seemed to transport you there. And though you had never actually been, it strangely felt like home.

“Yes, you are human, dragon rider, and more,” she smiled and came to run the back of her fingers softly down your cheek. Your legs would have given out had you not been so determined to keep looking up into her enchanting eyes. “And yet when all odds were against you, you and your sister freed thousands and bettered the lives of countless others with nothing expected in return. That is true selflessness and deserves the right to rule, as I am certain you shall do fairly as these kingdoms desperately need. You will bring forth the future where people like me and Loras could have lived freely. A place I never even imagined until I met you.”

Nothing in her words or demeanor felt dishonest but something told you the request she had yet to make would reveal the ultimate truth. If she believed in you and your sister’s mission then would it be so outlandish to think she’d ask for your friendship above additional power? Your heart was beating frantically and you strained your voice to get out your next few words.

“Margaery, what is it that you want from me?” Despite knowing that she had the power to end you right then and there, you chose to cling onto hope and held onto her one hand and lean into the touch of the other which now rested on the opposite side of your face. Doreah had been gentle with you at times but not in a way quite like this. Her affections had always been calculated and she gave you just enough to leave you wanting more. Teasing and playing games with you where you were only awarded by granting her favors. Margaery held you like she never wanted to let you go, even if it burned her skin in the process.

“If you wouldn’t be opposed to it, I’d like to kiss you, little dragon.”

Your heart must’ve stopped and all you could do was nod. Then as soon as Margaery’s lips met your own it began to beat once more, complete with new life she breathed into you. Her kiss was soft at first, careful to ensure the continued contact was alright with you before you deepened it. She tasted of vanilla and sweets and you eagerly chased to explore into her mouth further with her tongue. Your enthusiasm must’ve surprised the other woman, though she gave off a pleased chuckle before shortly taking back the lead and her other hand found your waist.

“Kostilus,” you moaned as she pressed your bodies even closer together. Everything else you wanted to say you put into your movements. Margaery smiled once again and her chest vibrated when you went to wrap your arms around her neck and continued to interrupt your dance with brief pronunciations of Valyrian words. She didn’t need to speak the language to understand what you were pleading for, and it pleased her greatly in many ways.

The two of you instantly separated when Viserion let out a deep cry that vibrated the ground around you. He twisted his neck up towards the sky where a dark mass grew faster and faster in its descent. Drogon answered his brother’s call and you realized Dany must be home. You grabbed Margaery’s hand, the biggest grin painted across your face. Getting to kiss Margaery and reunite with your sister had you so giddy that it didn’t occur to you how Margaery had never met Drogonbefore, who was much larger and intimidating than your sweet Viserion.

But all you could think about was how relieved you were to see your sister and her dragon both safe and unharmed. You raced to Dany when she began to dismount and dragged Margaery along with you. You felt as if you could burst with joy in that very moment, although your sister’s face did not show the same excitement or relief as you would have expected. No, this wasn’t Dany excited to greet you after an easy victory. This was Queen Daenerys already fueled on anger and glaring daggers at the woman next to you.

To her credit, Margaery stood firmly next to you in the face of the Mother of Dragons and her fiercest son.

“Who is she?”

#margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #game of thrones #margery tyrell imagines #game of thrones insert #wlw #Natalie dormer characters

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raspberryfingers · 1 year

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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 25)

A/N: I just feel the need to tell you guys that the dress I found literally made me gasp out loud when I saw it for the first time. I first saw it over a month ago and I knew instantly it had to be Lady Tyrell's wedding dress. Anyways, ignore my geeking out over how perfect the dress is and enjoy the chapter! (Especially because this one is 8.5k words)

—————

“Are you nervous?”

I turned to Margaery, who was sitting at my table as all sorts of maids rushed around my chambers. The only thing I could equate this level of craze and urgency to was that of a battle.

Except, well, this wasn’t a battle at all. It was my wedding.

“A bit. I know nothing really changes after this, but somehow it does. Plus, the thought of kissing Tywin in front of every damned noble in all seven kingdoms… well, it’s somewhat intimidating,” I noted, looking myself over in the mirror again. My hair was done just as I liked it, and my grandmother had truly had the most beautiful dress in all of Westeros put together for the day. It was covered with flowers, both white, red, and pink. A perfect mix of the Lannister colors and the Tyrell sigil. There was jewelry too, of course, and it felt just as heavy as my sword at the moment.

“If it makes you feel any better, I had to kiss Joffrey. And Renly. And then Tommen, though he wasn’t quite so bad. Just a bit awkward, really,” Margaery recounted, making me laugh as I gazed at her through the mirror. I wondered who the last woman to marry quite so many kings had been. Perhaps my sister had been the first.

“Well, I’m glad one of your marriages is working out well. It’s about time,” I teased, taking a deep breath and walking towards the door with her. It was time for us to set off to the Sept of Baelor.

“I pray that yours does much better. Come, father and grandmother should be waiting,” she said, linking our arms and walking with me through the halls. The servants who happened to see me as I walked through the Keep were all gawking, and I felt increasingly uncomfortable.

“They’re only looking because you’re so beautiful,” Margaery whispered, seeing the look on my face as they stared. I looked over at her and smiled a bit.

“I think the ugliest woman on earth would look beautiful in this dress.”

“Well, it especially flatters you. The Lord Hand is going to think so too,” she giggled, giving my arm a little squeeze. I only laughed, knowing she was probably right. Though, Tywin wouldn’t be so happy when the other men in the crowd stared just as much as he did.

We finally made it to the carriage, and Margaery helped me inside, careful with my dress and hair. I sat down beside my grandmother, and Margaery followed suit, sitting beside my father. He was becoming slightly emotional at the sight of me in my wedding dress.

“You look lovely, my dear,” my grandmother commented, kissing my cheek. I smiled bashfully, giving a soft ‘thank you.’

“Your grandmother's quite right. My eldest daughter getting married, gods,” father muttered, smiling at Margaery who did the same towards him. I only shook my head, slightly overwhelmed with all the attention. I’d always been somewhat left alone by my family, as they knew I could take care of myself well enough, and now being under everyone’s gaze was making me anxious.

My grandmother seemed to understand this, for as the carriage started she took my hand in hers and said nothing.

When we arrived, I took my fathers arm and waited a bit for my grandmother and sister to go in first. Loras and Sansa were already in the sept, along with every other great house, it seemed.

“Are you alright?” My father asked me after a moment, walking with me up the grand steps. I swallowed, nodding.

“Being in front of so many people makes me anxious,” I said softly, dress clutched in my free hand so I wouldn’t trip.

“You seem to like being in front of crowds in the fighting pits,” he remarked, chuckling a bit. We had reached the double doors, and I had to force myself to take a deep breath.

“Well, that’s different. People cheer for me in the pits. But here… well, here they’re just staring,” I reasoned, looking over at him.

“You’ll be alright, my dear. You’ll see.”

The large doors were painstakingly pulled open, and I was met with the eyes of over a hundred people. As my father escorted me inside, I found the faces of all the Starks, of the Martells, of my own family, and nearly every other noble in Westeros.

But when I moved on from them, I found the face of the one man who mattered, and I couldn’t resist a smile.

Tywin looked so handsome, dressed in the most ornate red coat I’d ever seen and standing tall at the altar. His hands were folded in front of him as he held the cloak, and he held my eye contact quite fiercely.

Carefully, I descended into the sept with my father, and I caught the eyes of many people I was familiar with. Bronn gave me a nod and a smile, as did Robb Stark. The Hound met my gaze, and I saw a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. The same went for Ellaria Sand, who nodded at me.

It was rather odd to see so many I knew in one place, but the somewhat overwhelming nature of it was no longer relevant as my father brought me up to the altar. He gave my cheek a quick kiss before finding his spot along the crowd, and then I was faced with Tywin.

He could not stop looking at me, eyes fond and happy. For once, he even appeared happy to everyone else around us. He wasn’t quite smiling, but his face was soft, and that was quite the thing.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered sweetly, making me smile far more than I should have. I took his arm and leaned in.

“And you look quite handsome.”

We went up the remaining steps until we stood before the septon, and I let go of his arm.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection,” the septon said, to which I swallowed and turned away from Tywin. I heard him opening the large cloth behind me, and carefully, I felt the cloth drape across me. Tywin placed his hands on my shoulders, smoothing it out. I could feel his breath on my neck, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks.

When I turned around, we joined hands again, holding them out for the septon. It was rather lovely having so much experience at Margaery’s various weddings, as I now knew exactly what to do when.

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” he continued, wrapping the cloth around our hands. It made me want to shake, as my heart was pounding quite aggressively.

More than anything, I wanted to look at Tywin, to at least express my love through my eyes if not through words. I felt Tywin stand a bit straighter, though, and I knew it was a sense of pride. I did the same, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Let it be known that Tywin of the House Lannister and (Y/N) of the House Tyrell are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

Tywin and I turned to each other now, the cloth having been removed during the septons monologue. At the same time, we began to recite:

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.”

We then continued together.

“I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

“I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

Tywin could not pull his eyes away from mine, and I’d never felt such a deep love for him. My stomach was fluttering, and the color and intensity of his eyes seemed to make this reaction even more prominent. Tywin inhaled, not even bothering to address the crowd.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” he said firmly, loud enough for all to hear. Tywin stepped toward me, one hand coming to my face as he leaned down and pressed his lips to my own. My eyes closed as I laid my hand against his chest, and we held our position for a few more seconds.

When he pulled away, we both grinned widely, and applause erupted throughout the sept. The serious, cold Tywin Lannister smiling at his wife, what a thought. I had once heard someone call Tywin as tough as Valyrian Steel, and while I had agreed years ago, I had since learned my lesson.

Even Valyrian Steel could be mended by a few select people.

I found that I could not stop smiling, especially when I considered everything that had led up to this moment. If 14 years ago I’d been told I would eventually marry Tywin Lannister of all men, I would have lost my mind. Even if I’d been told 2 years ago, I would’ve done the same.

It was hard for me to comprehend everything that Tywin and I had been through together, and how much our relationship had developed since the Battle of Blackwater. We’d bantered, flirted, given each other gifts, kissed, slept together, and even saved each other's lives.

It seemed to me there was hardly a thing Tywin and I hadn’t been through, and even despite all that, our relationship had prospered. We had truly ‘grown strong.’

Tywin’s hand was linked in mine, and we finally faced the crowd, soaking in all their continued cheers and claps. I assumed Tywin would be courteous and stoic, but after a moment or two, I turned towards him to find him smiling down at me. At that moment, it seemed he had completely abandoned all formality and sense of reputation. He was simply too happy to care.

As was I, for I reached for him again, tugging at his collar and kissing him once more as I laughed. He reciprocated without a single thought, and I was overjoyed.

I felt his hands at my waist, and he was holding me like a starving man clutches at his first meal in weeks. I would never forget the brush of his stubble against my face, nor the feeling of his smile against my lips.

There are certain memories that one cherishes for a lifetime, and as I pulled away and let my forehead rest against my husband’s, I knew this would most assuredly be one of them.

For he was mine, and I was his.

—————

The feast was just as grand as it ought to have been, and much to my surprise, Tywin did not complain about the costs once. Instead, he was in a rather good mood the entire time, talking with plenty of other nobles when he wasn’t by my side.

Similarly, I had been making my own rounds. The first group of people I’d spoken to consisted of Jaime and Brienne, who was wearing a lovely blue dress. With the way Jaime was staring at her, I thought perhaps he’d inherited his father’s love language of gift giving.

“Ser Jaime, Lady Brienne,” I greeted, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Lady (Y/N), congratulations. The ceremony was beautiful,” Brienne complimented with a gentle smile. She was being rather courteous, which I understood due to our lack of any serious time together.

“My father’s jaw must be hurting, I haven’t seen him smile so much… well, ever,” Jaime jested, smiling and drinking more of the wine in his cup. I let out a small laugh, looking across the room to find Tywin laughing with my grandmother. Gods, what had I done to him?

“Don’t be rude, Jaime,” Brienne scolded, smacking his shoulder. His eyebrows raised with shock, as if he had not a clue how what he had said could be considered rude.

“I’m not. I’m telling the truth, gods forbid.”

I smiled even more now, knowing Tywin and I often bickered the same way.

“Lady Brienne, your dress suits you, though I will admit to being surprised to see you in a dress,” I remarked suddenly, knowing perfectly well why she was wearing it.

“Thank you, my Lady. It- it was a gift,” she stuttered awkwardly, arms behind her back like they usually were. I smiled.

“A gift from who? If you’ll permit me to ask,” I questioned with a feigned innocence. Jaime gave me a playful glare.

“I gave it to her,” Jaime remarked smugly, grinning at the tall woman beside him. She merely blushed and looked down.

“You’re just like your father, Jaime,” I laughed, folding my hands in front of me. He tilted his head with a bit of curiosity.

“How so?”

“Enjoy the feast, you two,” I smiled and left Jaime and Brienne alone, deciding it would be smarter to let them figure it out themselves. What was it with Lannister men and their warrior women?

I was making my way back to our table--more specifically my seat so that I might actually enjoy the dinner--when I noticed Cersei downing her wine in conversation with some lady. Despite all of our differences, I had figured Cersei out rather quickly upon arriving in King's Landing, and I knew the look on her face meant the woman in front of her was making her want to jump from the Red Keep’s windows.

Naturally and without thought, I drifted towards her and linked my arm with hers.

“Cersei! I’ve been wanting to speak with you all night. Excuse us, my lady, it’s rather important family business,” I said falsely, giving the woman a smile that made me look just like Margaery. I pulled Cersei away without hesitation, removing my arm from hers when we were far enough away.

“That woman was incredibly dull, yet she would not stop blabbering,” Cersei muttered bitterly, drinking more of her wine as we stood along the outskirts of the party. It felt like I was able to breathe for a moment, oddly enough. It was strange to consider that somehow, Cersei no longer hated me. At least, I didn’t think so.

Perhaps I’d cried out for the gods so many times in Tywin’s bed that they had actually begun to listen.

“You looked miserable. And I did want to speak with you… to- to thank you for helping me that night,” I said slowly, being precise and intentional with my words. I needed Cersei to know that I truly meant it. She swallowed, though there was no wine in her mouth.

“Y-You’re welcome,” she replied with no detectable malice. There was an odd look in her eyes, something I could only compare to that of an abused dog, wondering if the hand extending out might be different than the ones that had come before.

“I’m glad he’s marrying you and not some dumb whore, you know. Most men fuck and wed anything with a pair of tits, but you’ve actually got a brain,” Cersei said after a moment of silence, not facing me but instead looking around at the crowd. I knew she meant it.

“Your father is not most men. It’s precisely why I married him,” I told her softly, glancing at Tywin from across the courtyard. Gods, he looked so handsome today it was overwhelming. There were often times I looked at him and I found myself wondering why there was no crown upon his head, for he looked every bit the king.

“For a very long time I didn’t believe that you could actually love him. I love him, for what girl does not crave the affections of her father? But you? Why should you have any reason to love him, especially after hating him so much for so long?” She questioned rhetorically, playing with the hem of her sleeve.

“I believed you wanted his power, or his money. Especially when you began to influence his decisions. My father is not a man that’s easy to love, and I suppose that’s why I doubted the two of you so much. But I- I was wrong, (Y/N). And I am… sorry for treating you so bitterly before,” Cersei said, struggling through it as if she had to force each word from her mouth. It was not natural for her to be so genuine, I knew. And it certainly wasn’t natural for her to apologize, which made me appreciate it even more.

“You thought I was inflicting harm upon your family for my own gain. I don’t blame you, Cersei. Tywin was hard to love. Often he still is. I had hated him for so long, yet our conversations always had me captivated and fueled. Despite my best efforts to hate him, I found that nobody has ever understood me so deeply. Nobody has ever managed to challenge me as he does, or to comfort me as he does. Tywin- well, he’s multiple people all at once. The husband is very different from the Hand,” I explained, unable to remove my eyes from him as he continued to talk with my grandmother. I could see in the subtle lines of his face just how happy he was, and it made me smile.

“This is the happiest he’s been since… well…” Cersei went quiet, and I knew what she was thinking. I gave her a quiet nod of understanding.

“Excuse me, (Y/N). I need a moment,” Cersei whispered, voice cracking a bit as she left my side. I frowned, knowing the subject of her mother was difficult.

After a deep breath, I found myself looking for someone else to speak with. As I did, I noticed Sansa speaking with her family rather excitedly. Loras had informed me a few days ago that she was pregnant, and from what I observed, that seemed to make her happy.

And on top of that, it seemed Tyrion and Rosalin Frey had also had some success. Tywin would be pleased that everything had worked out, although I remembered that the children still had to be the opposite gender.

Either way, I was certain things would work out.

I decided that I would join Loras and Margaery at the table, who were chatting happily as Tommen smiled and nodded along with them.

As I began walking toward them, however, I was stopped by a certain Master of Whispers.

“Lady (Y/N).”

I turned, smiling at Varys as he bowed his head toward me, hands in his sleeves as they always were.

“Lord Varys, have you enjoyed the wedding?” I asked politely, deciding I would let him say whatever he had approached me about after we exchanged certain pleasantries.

“I have, my lady. No expense was spared, and rightfully so. You and Lord Tywin make quite the handsome couple, especially dressed as you are,” he complimented, eyebrows raised with contentment.

“Thank you. I’ll admit, my grandmother has spent more than any sane person might consider reasonable on my dresses, but this is truly the nicest one I’ve ever owned. It’s rather symbolic too, I should think,” I noted, looking down at the gown before meeting Varys’ eyes again. He smiled politely.

“Certainly, my lady.”

After a moment, I decided to prompt him, as he would’ve considered it rude to discuss whatever subject he had in mind without me asking.

“What do you wish to discuss, Lord Varys? I know you well enough.”

He began to frown, letting out a deep sigh.

“I’m afraid it’s about Walder Frey, my lady. He’s rather drunk, and was overheard by quite a few people saying that it’s good his other sons aren’t old enough to marry you, for Lord Tywin had probably already ‘damaged’ you,” Varys whispered, leaning toward me so I would still be able to hear. I felt a distinct anger rising in my stomach, and I dug my nails into my palms. How dare he.

“I see. Does my husband know of this?” I questioned plainly, trying my best to avoid feeling so upset on a day that was supposed to be joyous.

“No, thank the gods. Your grandmother has kept him quite distracted. However, I’m afraid Baelish was also present when he said it, and I have no doubt in my mind he intends to tell the Lord Hand.”

“And what would you have me do about that?” I asked him, my eyebrows raised with a slight annoyance. I certainly had no desire to put up with Baelish right now, and I shouldn’t have to.

“Nothing, my lady, simply be aware.”

I looked around and found Baelish speaking with Catelyn Stark, or at least trying to. I prayed that it would keep him occupied for a while, especially because I knew that the moment Tywin received the news, things would certainly not go well for Walder Frey.

I expected he would go white and quiver again, just as he had when Tywin was 10 years old. In a way, I was almost excited.

—————

“I’m glad you decided to take my advice, Tywin.”

“About what?”

“About enjoying something before you die. And about that something being my granddaughter.”

Tywin grinned and shook his head, waving your grandmother off. He was currently rather ecstatic, so much so that many of the lords and ladies in attendance were beginning to become uncomfortable. Why on earth was Tywin Lannister smiling?

“Yes, yes. You were right. Is that what you want to hear?” He scoffed, though lightheartedly. Olenna smiled.

“Not at all. I already knew I was right, I’m simply informing you that it’s nice to see the two of you together now. For months you were going about like bloody fools trying to deny your feelings, it was rather annoying and droll for everyone around you. Plus, you’ve become quite the handsome—not to mention advantageous—couple. Few marriages in Westeros history can boast a love match and political power,” She said, looking up at your husband. He raised an eyebrow before looking away.

“Neither of those things are exclusive to us being married. You’re well aware that (Y/N) has been influencing me for quite some time now. Not to mention, Margaery is already married to Tommen,” Tywin pointed out, taking a sip of his wine as he did. He’d had multiple different kinds shipped in from all over Westeros, and even some from Essos, he figured he might as well enjoy it.

“Yes, but Tommen is not the real power. You and (Y/N) are advantageous because it keeps the mutual interest of both houses in mind. Margaery has some sway as queen, but only as much as her husband. If Tommen has no power over you… well then…” Olenna trailed off, nodding her head at Tywin as she made her point. He was no fool, understanding her perfectly. He also had no problem discussing it, knowing that Olenna had no bad intentions. She was happy for her granddaughter of course, but it being a love marriage was only a nice addition to a strong match.

“Plus, it gives me a chance of having even more great grandchildren. Loras and Sansa are expecting, I don’t know if (Y/N)’s told you yet,” Olenna mentioned, looking over at her granddaughter by law. She looked overjoyed to see her family, and your grandmother was happy she’d had the opportunity to.

“She has not. We’ve been a bit preoccupied these last few days, understandably. I congratulate you, though I’m not entirely sure you should expect any children from us,” Tywin said somewhat apprehensively, setting his wine down before folding his hands behind his back. Slowly, Olenna tilted her head at him. Her lips were parted, and she had a certain degree of shock in her eyes.

“You don’t intend to have children? When we last spoke about the subject it seemed as though you hoped naming (Y/N) head of the Tyrell armies would convince her.”

“We haven’t discussed it. (Y/N)-“

Olenna laughed aloud at that, shaking her head and setting her own cup down. She faced Tywin completely, looking him dead in the eyes.

“You haven’t discussed children? You, Tywin Lannister, a man known for being obsessed with his legacy, haven’t discussed that subject with your wife? I find that very hard to believe,” she chided, tone sharp and rather annoyed. Tywin’s expression did not change at all, and if not for his periodic blinks, he could’ve passed for a statue.

“No. I have not.”

“Well why in the seven hells not?” Olenna exclaimed, still absolutely astonished at that fact. Tywin inhaled before starting.

“Despite the fact that I think she would be an excellent one, (Y/N) has noted multiple times that she does not see herself as a mother, and I would not be so bold as to presume that those sentiments have changed. The subject did not need discussing,” he explained, though Olenna knew there was more to it than that.

“Again, in case you need reminding, you have always been so obsessed with continuing the Lannister line, yet suddenly my granddaughter mentions she doesn’t wish to be a mother and that becomes more important than the objective you have tirelessly worked towards? There’s more to it than just my granddaughter’s wishes, Tywin. Be frank with me,” Olenna rambled, hardly even blinking or breathing as she did. The Queen of Thorns was particularly sharp tonight.

“There isn’t more to it than that. Even if there was, it’s not relevant to you,” Tywin replied, snarky as ever. Your grandmother gave him quite the look of disappointment.

“Consider the topic done then. I don’t care so much that I would begin to upset you on your wedding day. If both you and my granddaughter are content then so am I,” She said after a moment, picking her glass back up and raising it to her lips.

“We are,” Tywin said casually, all annoyance gone from his voice. The matriarch and the patriarch both began to look around, giving each other a knowing glance.

Time to continue the rounds.

“Have a good evening, Olenna,” he voiced, giving her a nod.

“Thank you, Tywin. I’m certain that you will,” she teased, making an obvious insinuation about the upcoming bedding ceremony. He scoffed, allowing a small chuckle before heading off.

She certainly wasn’t wrong.

Tywin found himself approaching his two sons, Tyrion with a cup in hand just as he always was. Though, he wasn’t drunk yet, and that was new.

“Boys,” Tywin greeted, watching both of them turn their heads with a certain degree of surprise. Was something wrong?

“Father,” Tyrion replied, setting his cup down and wiping his mouth. Jaime merely gave a nod.

“Where is your wife?” He questioned, not seeing Rosalin anywhere.

“Spending time with her beloved father, I believe. He’s supposedly enjoyed the wedding a great deal,” Tyrion said, receiving a deep glare from his older brother.

“What?” Tywin questioned, sensing that something must’ve happened due to the obvious sarcasm.

“Nothing. The ceremony was beautiful, father,” Jaime said rather quickly, giving as genuine a smile as he possibly could in an effort to distract Tywin.

“Yes, it was, and so was your lovely bride. Her dress was rather fitting for a Tyrell marrying a Lannister,” Tyrion added, feeling odd in knowing that everything that had come out of his mouth was 100% serious. Not making sarcastic and crude comments in conversation with his father actually made him somewhat uncomfortable, he discovered.

“She does look beautiful, just as always,” Tywin commented, looking around and finding you in your stunning gown within an instant. You were speaking with Loras and Margaery, and he knew you were telling a story simply because of how animated you were.

His sons observed the fondness in his eyes, and though it was slightly awkward, it also brought them a great deal of joy to see their father so content and relaxed for once.

Jaime opened his mouth to say something, but then caught Tommen’s gaze. The king motioned for his Uncle to come over, and he did so without a second thought.

Tywin scoffed as he left, shaking his head. He would never forgive Aerys for naming his heir to the kingsguard. Though, as he looked at Tyrion, he had a strange feeling that perhaps giving him Casterly Rock might not be so horrible after all.

He had done his duties by marrying and producing a child, not to mention, he certainly had a far better political mind than Jaime. It was as Genna had once told Tywin: Tyrion was the most like him.

And unlike then, that thought did not upset him so much. It seemed his youngest child was finally becoming less of a drunkard and accepting more responsibility.

Now, that wasn’t to say it was anywhere near enough for Tywin, but it was at the very least improving.

“You really love her, don’t you, father?” Tyrion questioned after a moment, Tywin’s eyes still unable to break away from you.

“Yes, I do.”

Tyrion paused, not entirely sure what to say in response. He swallowed before continuing.

“I’m happy for you, truly. You’re at ease with her, I can tell.”

“She reasons with me. She balances me. It’s been decades since anybody has done that, and I’ve missed it. (Y/N) reminded me how to live,” he noted, finally looking down at his son.

“Do you- do you still miss Mother?” He questioned carefully, not wanting to upset the Old Lion. Tywin instantly nodded, not even taking a second to contemplate.

“Your mother shares a lot of similarities with (Y/N), but also many differences. One of them being that she was a mother. Watching her with Jaime and Cersei had filled me with so much joy at the time. We were traditional. (Y/N) is anything but,” he explained, looking away in his moment of vulnerability. Tyrion hung onto each word, having never had such a discussion with his father before.

“I was surprised to hear that you were going to marry, I wouldn’t have taken her for a woman that might’ve piqued your interest. For a long time I assumed the two of you were merely sleeping together, and though I might’ve questioned her a bit I certainly didn’t question you. I never thought it was… well, love,” Tyrion admitted, unable to resist the chance to make his father glare. No matter how ‘lord-like’ Tyrion became, the snide comments would never disappear. He thanked the gods for that, even if his father did not.

“I would never have bedded her if I didn’t intend to marry her at some point, it would’ve been bad form. It was never about mere physical attraction, she’s always been beautiful, but if you can recall, we hated one another for quite some time. She was sharp and witty enough to capture my attention, and simultaneously challenging and difficult enough to keep it. I began to respect her, and over time our political discussions became personal. From there we became civil, then friends, and eventually we ended up here,” Tywin explained, a certain emphasis on friends as if somehow that was more embarrassing than bedding a woman. To him, it was. For a man to crave romantic companionship was one thing, but simply wanting enjoyable company seemed mundane and unnecessary. Even so, he had wanted your company, just as you had wanted his.

“I see. Well, no matter how your feelings came about, I’m happy for you all the same. You’re much luckier than most men,” Tyrion said with a sigh, physically forcing himself to avoid drinking more. Tywin was about to say something, but was interrupted by the distinct chirps of a mockingbird. Instantly, both Tywin and Tyrion turned, finding Petyr Baelish standing before them.

“Lord Tywin, Lord Tyrion. Forgive me for interrupting, but I’m afraid there’s something you must know, my Lord,” Baelish said, looking at Tywin rather intently.

“Yes?”

“It’s about Walder Frey, my lord.”

Tywin felt his blood run hot instantly, even despite the fact that he had no clue what had happened. Tyrion had made a comment about it, and now Baelish was coming to him. Walder Frey had obviously crossed some sort of boundary, and Tywin had no doubt people had discovered that rather quickly.

“What happened?”

Tywin’s voice was like pure ice, despite the fire in his eyes. Baelish might’ve faltered if not for the fact that this sort of drama was the kind he thrived off of.

“I regret to inform you that he’s been heard making some rather unfortunate comments about your bride. He noted, both rather drunkenly and loudly, that it’s fortunate she did not marry his son and he has no sons old enough to marry her, for she has- she has probably already been damaged by you,” Littlefinger explained, feigning his sadness as he did. Truthfully, there were very few lords and ladies in Kings Landing who did not at the very least believe that you and Tywin were sleeping together. Most of them, of course, knew for a fact that you were.

Nonetheless, to voice it aloud was to question your honor and ‘purity’, neither of which Tywin cared for, but felt obligated to defend anyways. Nobody, especially not Walder Frey of all people, would insult his wife.

More than anything—for he knew the statements would not bother you—confronting Walder Frey was an act of embarrassment. He would be put in his place, and that was what mattered.

Tywin clenched his fists together, eyebrows furrowed with a passionate rage as he took quick, commanding steps toward the table he knew Walder Frey would be sitting at.

To see Tywin Lannister storming by meant that something was about to happen, and all the nobles began to quiet down as they realized that fact. And as he reached the head of House Frey, it was so silent one could’ve heard a pin drop.

“You would do well to refrain from speaking about my wife in such a manner, and to remember that your invitation was a courtesy, you don’t have any given right to be here,” Tywin scowled, voice low and threatening as he planted his hands on the table before Walder Frey and leaned over him. Though the old man tried not to, he had already begun to exhibit signs of fear.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to, my lord,” Lord Walder replied, taking as relaxed a sip of wine as he could. Only Tywin could see the slight trembling in his hand, though he did not care to look for very long as he violently grabbed the chalice from his hand and slammed it onto the table, some of it spilling in the meantime.

“Allow me to remind you. You expressed, rather loudly, joy at the fact that your own family members had not had the opportunity to marry my wife as it was originally intended, and while doing so, insinuated disgusting things and insulted Lady Tyrell’s honor,” Tywin said, anger rising as his jaw set in and his volume continually rose. Everyone was watching, and realizing why it had gotten so quiet, you were trying your best to push through the crowd of people watching and stop Tywin before he said something that might cause a conflict.

“Let me make it abundantly clear that your statement is a gross falsehood, and that Lady Tyrell has in no way been damaged. Even if she had been, no foul, sluggish, and stupid son of yours deserves such a wife. And, understand that if you should ever feel brave enough to insinuate anything about my wife ever again, I’d be more than happy to-“

“Tywin!”

—————

I finally reached him, placing my hands on his back and interrupting him before he could land the final blow of his insults.

Though I was certain everyone present had been astounded to see Tywin’s unleashed ferocity as he had absolutely degraded Walder Frey, I knew that if he’d managed to finish his threat, it would make relations between House Frey and House Lannister irreparable until both of their patriarchs were buried.

“Tywin please, leave him be,” I whispered, not loud enough to allow anybody else to hear. I pulled his shoulders back gently, and he relented rather easily, standing tall and glaring at Walder Frey for a moment more before fixing his eyes on me.

“I will not allow anyone to insult you, especially not him,” he muttered through a clenched jaw, ignoring the whispers that had begun to sprout among the crowd. I heard someone say ‘he’s gone white’ and I realized they were correct when I saw the look of terror on Lord Walder’s face.

“I know, Tywin, I understand. But he’s not worth it, and you’ve made your point rest assured. Dinner is about to be served, let’s just sit down and enjoy it, hm?” I suggested softly, still not letting anybody else hear what I was telling him. I had my hands placed affectionately on his shoulder and chest, and as he glared at Walder Frey one last time, his hands cupped over mine.

Tywin finally nodded, letting me take his arm as we made our way over to the main table and sat down, not minding the shocked looks on people’s faces. Walder Frey had been sufficiently embarrassed, that much was clear.

Realizing it was time for the feast though, people began to spread out and sit down in excited anticipation, and chatter continued on. I looked over at Tywin once there was enough distraction and allowed myself to smile.

“You didn’t have to lie, you know.”

“About what?”

“About me being ‘undamaged’.”

“Well, it’s the truth. Every time I bed you I’m always the one who ends up tired and aching.”

I laughed rather loudly, smacking his arm and covering my mouth. Several people had looked over at the sound, and wore an awkward look on their faces when they saw me trying to contain my laughter and Tywin smiling rather brightly.

“You shouldn’t say things like that!” I scolded playfully, leaning toward him and shaking my head. He smirked at me, drinking from his cup.

“Well I did.”

The food was brought out and placed before us, and Tywin and I continued to chat lightheartedly as we ate.

“I saw you were having quite the conversation with my grandmother, what was that about?” I questioned, taking a bite and looking over at him.

“Multiple things. Though I was laughing when she told me stories of your childhood,” he revealed, making me sigh and flush with embarrassment. I wasn’t even entirely sure I wanted to know.

“She told me of the time you poured essence of nightshade in the maester’s cup to avoid your lessons so you could go riding with Ser Elias, just to get bucked from your horse and need the maester’s assistance,” he said, watching me groan with a cheeky smile on his face. I knew he must’ve been reveling in the fact I’d always been a mischievous child. Not to say that I didn’t devote myself to my studies, as I had usually enjoyed them, but what child does not wish to spend a day or two doing otherwise?

“And what else did she say?”

“That for about a year or so before you began training with real men, you would paint my face on your dummies.”

I turned to him, unable to hide my shock at the fact that my grandmother had told him such a thing. It was truthful, I had done it, but in all honesty I’d never even known she was aware. Tywin seemed rather amused by this, however.

“Yes, I did do that. It’s been so long since I’ve fought anything but real men I nearly forgot. It was quite satisfying to see your hideous face when I stabbed you,” I teased, watching him raise a challenging eyebrow.

“My hideous face?”

“You’re rather handsome, Tywin, but that caricature was most definitely not. I never spent much time devoting myself to art and needlework, as you can imagine,” I explained, laughing as he realized what I’d meant.

“I would’ve liked to see the look on your face if you’d known that in 14 years you’d be marrying me,” he said, chuckling and reaching for my hand under the table. I took it, giving it a squeeze and leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“I would’ve killed myself. Thankfully, it seems everything worked out for us.”

“Yes, it certainly has.”

After dinner was finished, the pie was served for dessert and my father gave his speech. I found myself wondering if he was glad to be giving one for a child that wasn’t Margaery. After that of course, the music picked up again in a way that suggested Tywin and I ought to dance.

Tywin stood from his chair, reaching a hand out to me with the gentlest of looks on his face.

“Will you dance with me, wife?”

I smiled, instantly taking his hand and rising from my own seat. People had begun to quiet down in preparation, and I reflected that Tywin and I had come quite far since the last time we’d danced together.

We made our way onto the floor, positioning our hands appropriately and beginning to move to the music. Just as they had been at Joffrey’s wedding, everyone was utterly captivated.

“Do you think people will ever stop staring?” I asked quietly, not feeling compelled to bother looking at them. There was no reason to feel awkward now, we were married.

“No, I don’t imagine they will.”

I smiled, moving closer to him as we began to float across the floor. There was something almost magical about dancing with Tywin, something that I’d never quite get used to. He was so confident, and so stoic that it made us look quite graceful.

As we danced, I found myself getting lost in his eyes. They’d always been the prettiest color, nearly teal, and I often found myself trying to decide whether or not they were really blue, for sometimes they looked green or even grey depending on the light.

“What are you thinking about?” Tywin whispered, noticing the contemplative look on my face.

“Merely how pretty your eyes are,” I replied softly, beginning to feel emotional for some strange reason. I was not an overly sentimental person, but being held in Tywin’s arms this way and knowing that he was my husband was certainly having quite the effect.

“Yours are far prettier,” he complimented, kissing my forehead despite everyone’s prying eyes. As I felt his stubble brush against my face, I felt my throat begin to close up as my love for him became overwhelming.

A few, subtle tears began to slip from my eyes, and Tywin noticed instantly. He did not have to ask me what was wrong, for he already knew that nothing was. Rather, he understood that I was crying because everything was right.

Sweetly, he lifted his hand to my face and wiped his thumb across my wet cheeks. My lip had begun to quiver, and so he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t cry, my dear. All is well.”

I took a deep breath, nodding and attempting to pull myself together. To show emotion at a wedding was not uncommon, but to show too much would be questionable. Or at the very least odd.

“I love you so much, Tywin,” I whispered before being twirled, coming back to him quite eagerly.

“I love you more than anything on earth, (Y/N). To finally, officially, make you my wife is the most joyous thing that has happened to me since the twins were born,” he said, holding my eye contact and still managing to recite the steps perfectly. Not that this was any difficult task for me, but plenty of the partners I’d danced with before seemed to be incapable of focusing whilst having a conversation.

“This is the happiest anything has ever made me,” I expressed, giving his hand a squeeze. He only smiled, twirling me once more before the song ended.

People clapped quite passionately, and I couldn’t help the grin on my face when they did. The thought of the entire day being dedicated to our marriage was somehow wonderful, and I doubted there was anything that could stop making me smile.

“Time for the bedding ceremony!”

The yell had come somewhere from the crowd, but upon hearing it, I could see if everyone’s eyes a single motive: to rush towards Tywin and I.

And among the men, I could see the hunger in their eyes, the excitement, and it made my stomach drop. Something that I had thought would be no problem at all suddenly made me want to cry and flee, absolute panic beginning to take over.

Tywin, in the split second that people were beginning to rise from their seats, looked over at me and seemingly understood the look in my eyes. He understood that I was no longer relaxed, and that I was genuinely afraid now.

“All of you sit down. There will be no bedding ceremony!” He shouted rather loudly, stepping in front of me and taking a protective stance. Tywin was glaring daggers at all the men in the room, challenging them to keep moving closer.

“If any of you dare to lay a hand on my wife it’ll be the last thing you do. Now move aside, we intend to retire for the night,” he announced, offering me his arm and watching everyone clear a path with a sort of nervous fear.

Tywin glanced down at me to make sure I was alright, and when I gave him a reassuring nod we began to walk, heading for the tower of the hand. Being free of the crowd was lovely, and as we made our way through the red keep it was oddly quiet. Despite the slight clanking behind us, which was of course coming from the Lannister guards escorting us.

“Thank you, Tywin. I thought I would be fine with it, but-“

“No need to thank me, my dear. I saw the look on your face when they tried to advance, and the last thing I ever want is for you to feel unsafe. Over a year ago I promised to always protect you, and I meant it,” he assured me, our voices low as to exclude the men following a good three feet behind.

When we reached the tower of the hand, Tywin ordered the guards to stop following us before picking me up and carrying me up the stairs. I was astounded, of course, telling him he ought to put me down. He merely shook his head, and I soon realized that it truly was of no difficulty for him.

When we reached his chambers, he finally set me down, taking a deep breath and then offering me his arm once more. He was being quite the gentleman tonight, and it reminded me just how happy I was to be marrying him.

His personal guards had let us in, closing and locking the doors behind us. It was nice to be in his chambers, which I’d spent so much time in I preferred them to my own.

Leisurely, we made our way through the courtyard and reached his bedroom, stopping just before the door. I furrowed my eyebrows with confusion when Tywin did not open it, and looked up at him to figure out what was wrong.

“Tywin?”

He gazed down at me affectionately, licking his lips in preparation before speaking. He reached for both of my hands now, taking them in his.

“(Y/N), the moment we step in there my head is going to cloud with lust, so before we do, I’d like to say something,” he noted, looking down at the floor for a moment before finding my eyes again. He wore a look of utmost honesty, and I nodded to let him know I was ready.

“I am so grateful to be your husband. I am so grateful to be the man you decided to give your love to, especially because for so long you felt quite contrary. There is no other woman in all seven kingdoms who could have managed to captivate me the way that you did. The way you do. You’re smarter than anyone I’ve ever met, not to mention witty and charming. You’ve helped me to see clearly for the first time in decades, and I am quite grateful for that too. What I am trying to say, (Y/N), is that saving your life at the Battle of Blackwater was the best choice I have ever made,” he said, not smiling but instead trembling as he said it. Tywin pressed my hands to his chest, and ever so faintly I could feel the pounding of his heart. Tears had begun to fill my eyes, but seeing that he intended to continue I remained silent.

“I remember quite vividly seeing you fighting that man on the beach. I remember watching him grab you, and for a brief moment I had turned away because I hadn’t fully processed that it was you. When I realized, I looked back and heard you scream. For a- for a moment, I wondered if perhaps I ought to let you die. But for some inexplicable reason, I felt an urge inside me telling me to go help you. The truth was, I hadn’t even considered the implications of you dying, and even once I had I realized if I’d truly not cared it wouldn’t have mattered whether or not you’d lived, Margaery would still have married Joffrey. In any case, I went to help you, and though I could have just let it rest when you’d passed out, I didn’t. Perhaps the gods had given me a chance, a fleeting urge that would push me towards salvation. And in retrospect, I understand that whatever made me feel the need to rescue you might’ve led to the best decision I’ve ever made.”

Tywin had been rambling, face full of expressions as he recounted the night that had likely bound us together forever. It was interesting to learn what had gone through his head at the time. He’d never told me any of this before. I had never known that he had considered not doing it and helped me anyways. I had never known that it was an urge, not a political decision.

Though he would not say it, I knew what he was insinuating. Whatever had made him come back for me was fate. It was our destiny.

“I love you, Tywin,” I whispered, cupping his face. He stared at me in contemplative silence for a moment, and then kissed me.

“I love you so much, my dear.”

TAGLIST:

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

@prettykinkysoul

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394

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

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months

Text

Don't pout my little doe, you can have your lion later

Media Game Of Thrones

Character Lanncel Lannister

Couple Lancel X Reader (Baratheon - Daughter of Robert and Ceresi Dark Baratheon Hair)

Rating SMUT AF

I sat inside the litter, on the soft silk pillow the curtains closed at the sides to keep concealed from passers-by. The sweet fabrics and cushions around me as I sat in my little shoes and sweet yellow and black dress. The litter moved and bustled a little as it slowly moved through the king's landing streets as the caravan of royals moved from the sept back to the red keep. It was far too dangerous for any of us to be walking these streets so the litters kept all of us hidden and safe.

I looked across the litter where the familiar body sat, thin and tall with long Lannister blonde locks, his fine lion-littered clothes red and gold clothes with his sword by his side his hand on the hilt as if he was prepared at any second to use it. I blushed slightly and looked away before he noticed me looking but I saw his own eyes flick to me. Lancel Lannister, he had been squire to my father King Robert Baratheon, and my father had insisted that in the event of his death his squire was to become my protector. Which was sweet of him, I unlike my siblings had a decent relationship with my father even if that meant my mother despised me. I suppose that's why my mother never protested about it, I think she knew Lancel had never seen battle and while skilled he was not really up to the level a princess' protector should be but I think it was her way of keeping us both out of her way.

We met eyes for a moment across the litter and we both tried to hide our smiles, we both knew something... was between us but we knew such a matter could not be pursued. He was my protector and nothing more even if I wanted him to be. But I knew our families would rage at us if anything was to be revealed about us. We were technically second cousins but by Westeros law that meant very little as even first cousins can marry in Westeros without much of an eyebrow being raised. But still I knew my mother hated me and would not allow us to be together even if we wanted to be.

He looked at me as I looked away his eyes lingered on my Baratheon yellow dress, on my dark hair. I looked like my father like a Baratheon which I assume was part of what my father loved and my mother hated about me given I looked nothing like my blonde slender siblings, joffery, Marcella and Tommen. I suppose they looked like Lannisters and I a Baratheon. But Lancel's eyes lingered but he shook his head away as if shaking off his thoughts.

But as we stopped I briefly looked out the window seeing we had not yet returned to the red keep I'm sure we must have stopped for one reason or another so I didn't ask, but as Lancel and I met eyes again I blushed and hatched an idea to occupy our time.

"Lancel?" I spoke up,

"Yes, princess?" He looked at me with a sweet smile,

"could I?" I innocently asked,

"Could you what princess?" He raised an eyebrow looking at me curiously but with a sly smile as he knew what I wanted but enjoyed the tease,

"What I usually do," I blushed, "When we're alone..."

He bit his lip a little but nodded, "As you wish my princess."

I giggled and quickly hopped over to his side I sat myself on his thigh as he moved his sword to the side, I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled my head onto his shoulder and chest feeling his warm body and the softness of his clothes, he quickly wrapped an arm around my waist to bump me closer to him, I giggled and plaid with his hair as he stroked my back I rather felt naughty to be doing such a thing I knew I shouldn't and because I knew this position was what many girls would do to a lord of higher born then themselves which... asmused me in my own way.

"Hi lancel," I giggled as he pulled me so our noses touched,

He smirked and stroked my dress whispering against my lips "Hello princess."

"I like when you look after me, it means I get cuddles," I giggled,

"Humm I like cuddles with you very much princess. really I like anything we do together, but especially when were... alone together."

I smiled and gave his neck some small kisses, "When we return to the red keep, will you come cuddle in my room?"

".... I think that would be an excellent idea, Princess." He cooed as he stroked my jaw and held my chin to prevent my kisses, "I would love to have a cuddle alone in your room." he whispered against my lips,

I tried to kiss his neck again but he pulled on my hair to stop me and gave my ass a firm smack making me only giggle more.

"Lancel?"

"Yes, princess?" He smirked kissing my neck softly,

"When we cuddle in my room..."

"Yes?"

"Will we play... the quiet game?"

"Humm the quiet game? you know I want to play anything with you princess but are you sure? you always lose the quiet game." he smirked nibbling my neck,

"I know, but I like to play."

"I know you do," He smirked, "How about... we play hunt instead?"

"We can?"

"I think so, I think you'd love a game of hunt." He whispered in my ear, "Are you ready princess?"

I nodded and he bit his lip his hand on my hip,

"Close your eyes." he demanded his tone breathy,

I giggled and closed my eyes he then pressed little kisses down my chest towards my dress but I peaked opening one eye, he saw me and growled

"ah ah ah, you took a wrong step now the lions gonna bite the little doe," He smirked as he sunk his teeth into my neck tugging at my skin making me squeal and kick my feet,

"Noooo! I didn't mean to,"

He pulled back and fixed some hair behind my ear, "Open your mouth princess." he demanded, I blushed but opened my mouth as wide as I could his thumb moved to stroke my bottom lip, "Tounge out." He demanded so I playfully forced my tongue out as far as I could, He smirked and ran his hands over my dress as I sat on his leg keeping me sat for a good while like this, "Humm getting tired yet princess?"

I shook my head even if my mouth was tried, he moved his fingers close stroking my lips,

"suck." he demanded so I did as he asked and took his index and middle finger into my mouth sucking them and licking them making sure to keep eye contact as I did, which forced a low groan, "ummm such a good little princess," he cooed his palm resting on my chin to hold my face as his fingers moved to thrust inside my mouth leaving me to have to move my head to keep his fingers in my mouth and to keep sucking until he pulled his fingers out completely. "You know, Princess, I think that you are just a bit too tightly wound. I will loosen you up... I think your outfit is too much, and I want it off of you. What do you think, Princess? Should I take off your dress?"

"Lancel.. someone might-"

"No one will see," he smirked as he unlaced my dress front, "Keep quiet for me princess,"

I nodded as he tugged at my dress gently at first but the more he unlaced the more eager he got almost ripping my dress until it was unlaced to my waist and he pushed back the soft yellow fabric to reveal my bare breasts but keeping it on my shoulders he bit his lip hard as he looked at my exposed body his hand came and stroked my neck and down my chest fondling my breasts as he went, "How does that feel princess? Do you like the feeling of my hand against your skin?" he smirked and I nodded, "Hummm such a good little princess. such a good little doe for her lion," he cooed, as his hand came to my breast still slick from my sucking a she rubbed on my nipple to harden it moving his index and middle finger back and forth over my right nipple forcing it to get hard for his attention as well as causing me to whine and squirm on his lap,

"Uhhh Lancel..." I whined,

"Ah ah ah I said quiet princess." he smirked biting my neck harder than before grabbing my breast in his hand fondling and groping me as I sat on his thigh, "Ummm I love playing with your fucking tits." he smirked, moving both hands to grope and squeeze,

"Ahhh Lancel!" I squealed,

"Humm what about quiet don't you understand?" He smirked biting my neck even harder as he did I whined and stroked his clothes as I squeezed my legs together feeling myself get wetter for his rubbing and groping, "oh. That's why?" He growled forcing my dress up to stroke my bare thigh he slapped my ass again before he stroked my pussy, "Awww so wet princess."

"Uhh Lancel..." I whined,

"This what you want? this what you want princess?"

"Yes..."

"Humm really? Is this what you want? Do you want my fingers inside you? You want me to finger your cute little pussy princess?"

"Yes. Please lancel..."

"Awww you are adorable," he cooed, "say it."

"I-"

"Say it my little doe."

"I want your fingers inside my pussy lancel... please... devour your doe my lion."

"That's better." he smirked forcing my dress off me completely leaving me naked on his lap tapped my thigh and I happily opened them," Aww such a good princess," he cooed as his hand moved to slip his index and middle finger inside me his thumb rubbing my clit making me squeal and scream as he kissed me to keep me quiet as he thrusted his fingers hard and rubbed on my clit the same pace as his other hand rubbed on my nipple, we kissed making out heavily often moaning into each others mouths as his hands pleasured me endlessly. I knew I was close but he didn't stop instead He pulled back with a groan and smirked at me, "On your knees. suck my cock. Now princess." He demanded, I blushed as he moved his hand back but I did as he asked moving to my knees and unlacing his trousers taking his hard cock in my hand and sucking it as mercilessly as he had fingered me I could feel the litter below my knees knowing we were moving again but I didn't care to stop he threw his head back and often tugged my hair until we felt the unmistakable feeling of the litter being set on the ground, we quickly pulled back and peaked out seeing we had now returned to the red keep, "Shit-" He muttered fixing himself,

"Lancel..." I whine in desperation,

"I know princess, I know." he muttered clearly desperate too but he handed me my dress and helping me to relace it, "Come on, we'll deal with the nonsense and continue up in your room, alright princess?"

"Alright," I pouted,

"Don't pout my little doe, you can have your lion later," he said,

"All of my lion?" I begged,

"Every single bit of me my princess." he cooed biting my neck playfully before giving my lips a kiss and my ass a slap so we both sighed and climbed out to return to business like nothing had happened.

#eugenesimon #eugene simon #lancellannister #lancel #lancel lannister #house lannister #game of thrones fanfiction #gameofthrones #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic

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hopelesswritergall · 1 year

Note

Not sure your opinions on Bran Stark, but maybe him falling in love with the reader while they’re assorted into an arranged marriage? He grows jealous and decides he needs to keep you in Winterfell with him, so he does everything he can to make you his despite your oath of marriage to maybe a Lannister?

Or just any Bran Stark x Reader content, I love that man so much 🤭🤭

Yesss darling!! Baby I think I made it GN but if you catched a gender thingy let me know!

Summary: Bran didn’t like Y/N at first, so when their parents announced they were to be betrothed he refused. That hurts. But then Tommen came and he disliked that even more. He would show you that he is better than that bastard.

A/N: I do not follow the original storyline cause yeah no. We don’t do that here on this blog. Also fuck their winters and shit. In this story it’s just all 4 seasons in 1 year. And your house is Greenfield a (non-existing) house which is south of Winterfell and often associated with the Vale and shit.

It’s sort of very long headcanons :)

Tag list: @crownedtargaryen

Let me know if you want to be added babes

It was the summer of Bran’s thirteenth birthday, when they got the news. The Greenfield’s were coming to visit and they were bringing their child Y/N Greenfield. They were often talked about, how they would grow up to become one of the prettiest people alive. Bran couldn't care less. He just wanted to learn archery and not much more.

When the Greenfields arrived his whole family was running around making sure that everything looks perfect. "Robb, can we train this afternoon?" "Bran, we do not have the time for training, we need to prepare. Do something useful and go help father or something.” Stupid Greenfields, now they’ve ruined his weekly training session with Robb, what else are they going to ruin? On his way to his father he ran into his mother Catelyn. “Bran! What are you still doing in these clothes?! Go and put on sometching more formal! Don’t just stand here, GO!” His mother looked very nervous and it almost seemed like this visit would determine their fate as a house.

Deciding not to push the buttons of his mother even more he complied, and asked a servant to bring him some formal clothes. (You didn’t think he would do that himself now did you??). Once it was on his bed he begrudgingly put it on, already feeling as if he doesn’t really like the Greenfields one bit.

He begrudgingly went downstairs to meet with his parents. His parents, Robb, Sansa, Rickon,his adopted brother Jon and hell even Arya were dressed up. They all wore their best clothes for the visit

They all waited for the carriage to enter the gates of Winterfell and they didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes after everything gathered a carriage came into view. It was decorated with beautiful green ornaments and golden leaves on the sides.

Your father, mother and your 2 older brothers left the carriage before you and as last but definitely not least you.

“My lord stark, may I present to you. My eldest : Tobas, my second eldest: Darron. And my youngest : Y/N.” Your father spoke

“It’s a pleasure to meet you guys, really! Come on in! Let the kids get to know each other, they’ll be spending lots of time together in the future so…..” Ned spoke the last part quietly not wanting to reveal anything yet.

You stood there swaying on your feet until you spotted Bran, he looked around your age so you approached him, wanting to seem nice.

“Hi! My name is,” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he walked away. “Y/N.” You were confused as to why he suddenly walked away. You were only trying to be nice.

“Don’t pay him any attention Y/N, my name is Sansa! Come, you can sit next to me at dinner.” She joined your guy’s arms and walked with you to where you would be staying at.

Ned and your father had made plans to unite your houses when you were born. Tobas and Darron were too old to be wedded to either Sansa or god forbid Arya. But you, you were the perfect age and being born only a few months after Bran? It was a miracle.

At the dinner the announcement was made and my god was it an experience

“Ned, thank you so much for hosting this amazing dinner for us. We couldn’t be more honoured and I believe that as a host you should be the one to announce it.”

“Thank you Duncas,” Ned cleared his throat before he said the words that ruined it all for Bran. “The Starks and Greenfields will be united through a marriage. Bran and Y/N are destined to be wedded as soon as Y/N turns eighteen. Until then they will spend much time together. Let’s all celebrate this alliance!”

Bran felt like he was going to puke. He didn’t want to marry anyone and why them?! They weren’t special or anything, so he sulked and pouted the entirety of the dinner.

You on the other hand already had a feeling when your father announced that you would be visiting Winterfell. You knew that it would be good for your family and Winterfell would be an important ally. Besides Bran wasn’t that bad looking. Wink wink

“Do you hear this Y/N?! We’ll be sisters!” It seemed like Sansa was more excited than your future husband. This was off to a great start.

Over the span of the following 5 years, Bran would be 18 and you would turn 18 later that year, you were forced to spend a lot of time together. Sansa had already accepted you as her sister and you really liked her. Bran on the other hand…..

He was a CUNT. Always ignoring you, making snide remarks about your looks or manners. “No Y/N, I don’t know how you do it down south but we don’t do that here in the North.” He would always make you feel insecure, like you didn’t belong there.

Bran wasn’t the best with women and he didn’t despise you contrary what you might believe. He just didn’t really express him self that good. Alright, he was just shit at communicating and thought it would be better to just make you stay away. :)

You practically lived in Winterfell and the Starks would be receiving some royal visitors. The Queen and her son Tommen would come to visit Winterfell. You were very excited because you never met them before and heard great stories about the future king.

“Sansa! Imagine that the prince would like one of us? Then we’d become the next queen! Isn’t that just a dream?” That is what Bran overheard when he was walking around the place.

“Do you think he could end your betrothal to my brother? If he does, promise me you will remember me!” “Sansa, I will never ever forget you!”

Next day at dinner he decided to do a teeny tiny bit of questioning, did you really like the prince? Were you so desperate to get away from him?

“So Y/N, excited for the visit of the prince?” He gave you a sweet angelic look

“Yeah! I’ve heard great stories about him. Did you hear that he is great at archery and sword fighting?! Like that’s so cool!”

Bran scoffed a bit and replied snarkier than he intended “Pff well I am good with bow and arrow as well you know?”

The day of the visit

You were practically running around, trying to look your absolute best for the prince. You were very intrigued by all the stories you heard the people tell.

“Children, please come to the courtyard, they are arriving!” You could hear Ned’s voice coming from downstairs. With a last glance at the mirror, and deciding you looked amazing as usual you went downstairs.

You took your spot next to your husband to be, who looked extremely happy to see you as he always does haha not. “Good morning Bran! Excited for the visit?” You almost shined with excitement. “Cant wait.” Bran first wanted to cancel the betrothal by making you and the prince a thing. But now as he heard you speak about the prince already without ever seeing him, and now seeing you radiating with energy he started to doubt his intentions.

Could it be possible that he didn’t want to lose you?

Well no time to think about it, Tommen is leaving the carriage and approaching him and you.

“Hello Bran, very nice to see you again. But who is this beautiful person next to you? Excuse me, but I never had the pleasure to mee you I think.” Tommen extended his hand which you gladly accepted, and he planted a gentle kiss on top of your hand.

“Your grace, my name is Y/N of the house Greenfield.” You were delighted that the prince even spoke to you.

“Ah the youngest of the Greenfields, I’ve heard stories about how you are considered one of the prettiest people alive. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Alright Bran was getting more annoyed by the second now, so the little devil he is decided to meddle a bit.

“I’m so lucky to have Y/N as my betrothed,” Bran wrapped his hands around you which took you by surprise. “I really have to thank my father for that.”

“Ah so you are the man lucky enough to be the betrothed of the prettiest person? Well consider yourself lucky Bran, I know a lot of people who would think not twice before offering their hand.”

“Yeah….. Very lucky indeed.” With that the Prince left to enter the castle and settle into a room.

“Alright what the fuck was that Bran?” you hissed at him.

“Whaaattttt? Can’t I appreciate my future wife?” He replied as if he had done nothing wrong.

“Well you didn’t do anything of the sorts the past 5 years so it’s a bit suspicious don’t you think?!”

You tried to walk away but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in. “I meant what I said just now. Thought you should know.”

With that the future lord of Winterfell left you there standing alone in the middle of the courtyard. Very confused and stunned

You never truly disliked Bran but it seemed he did for a while. So where was this coming from?

“Y/N can you help me with my hair?” That was Sansa shouting at you from the window.

“I’m coming!”

The dinner disaster

What is it with people and placing people where they do not want to be?

On the head of the table was Ned, on his left side were Cathelyn, Arya, Sansa and Robb. On the other head was Cersei. To Ned’s right were Bran, you and then Tommen.

You were placed directly between them, how awkward.

“So Y/N, what do you enjoy doing these days here in Winterfell? I can imagine that it is very different than in the Vale.” The queen spoke to you. Oh my god she acknowledged you.

“Well you highness, even though it is indeed very different from the Vale I don’t think it are bad differences. The main one I had to adapt to is that it’s a bit colder. But as to what I enjoy doing, I really like to ride my horse in the woods. I enjoy reading in our library and recently I have followed some lessons alongside Sansa and Arya in stitching. Although I don’t know if that’s my thing or if it’s too “girly” for me.”

Next to speak was Tommen. “Reading and horseback riding? So many talents in one person, I imagine that the Gods decided to not divide it evenly and that someone missed out.” He said while clearly looking at Bran with the last statement.

Bran deciding to try to ignore Tommen as much as possible spoke to you in such a kind voice you thought he was a different person. “Y/N, what did you read as last again? I remember being very intrigued by it and I would like to read it as well.”

“Oh well, it was something called The history of the Throne. It was very interesting, the stories went back to almost the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty. It also described the dance of the dragons and all that drama in great detail!” You replied back sweetly, but speaking to Bran caused you to turn your back to Tommen which he didn’t really appreciate so he spoke again.

“Aha speaking about the dance of the dragons, do you like them? And who do you think was the rightful heir to the throne?”

So you turned around again now facing Tommen. “Do I like dragons? Who in their right mind doesn’t? The rightful heir, that a very difficult question. I fully understand Rhaenyra, buuuuutt I also understand where Alicent came from. She just thought that Viserys meant their son Aegon and from that point it all became very very confusing.” Tommen was smiling at the attention, Bran however was not.

Before he had the chance to speak the Queen spoke up and you were relieved to hear someone else speak for a while. You weren’t really listening so you were surprised when you heard your name being called by her. “Y/N, darling did you hear me?” “Sorry my Queen I was a bit distracted, could you repeat it for me please?” “I asked you if you like it here in Winterfell and if you look forward to your marriage with Bran?”

Bran grew anxious, if you said no he would be fucked and lose the person he loved.The queen would probably suggest you coming along with her and then marry the prince. Wait hold on did he just think that he loves you? Nono that must be a mistake right? I don’t love Y/N, or do I?

You noticed Bran spacing out and gently placed your hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. This seemed to bring him back and he looked a bit surprised at you.

“My queen I can assure you that I’m really enjoying Winterfell and I coudnt be more excited for the wedding.” This seemed to shock almost everyone at the table, including Ned and Catelyn. Who tried on numerous occasions to change their sons mind.

“That’s good to hear. Tommen my dear, is everything okay? You look a bit pale.” All of your eyes went over to Tommen who indeed looked paler than normal, probably hoping you weren’t happy. You knew how Tommen must feel and pitied him a bit, so you leaned in close to him and whispered “I know a woman who would be lucky to meet you my prince, she is prettier than I am. Her name is Margaery Tyrell.”

Tommen instantly felt a lot better and couldn’t wait to leave Winterfell all of a sudden.

You and Bran? You guys got married the week after you turned 18, he is your little grumpy man.

#bran stark #bran stark x reader #game of thrones #x reader #game of thrones headcanons #game of thrones headcanon #brandon stark #starks of winterfell #house stark #game of thrones x reader #got imagines #game of thrones imagines

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themotherofblood · 2 years

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Falling in Love with You

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Tears of Gold AU

A/N: bad medieval medicine, bruh I have no idea how advanced they are but I tried my best.

tw: birth, blood, gore!

“Stand your ground! I say stand your ground!” Tywin’s voice screamed over the hollers of men, plunging his sword deep into another man’s belly as his guts poured out right after. Each man he cut through, a severed arm, a leg, a head. He thought of you, he would not let his wife jump into a fire, with or without his children. “Die!” He cut through another man’s throat, his blood spilling all over the Lannister red armour. Tywin himself had coped a slash or two, but he paid no mind to it. His eyes were fixated further down the King’s road. He has stationed half is army 20 miles down, so that an attack from both ends would cripple the Baratheon army. As expected, it did. Yet another horde of Lannister banners charged towards the city gates, plunging through the backs of Stannis’s army. In that moment everyone knew, the war was over. Tywin took down the very last of men around him, while cutting through two more; he saw his son fall. Cruel yet Tywin kept fighting, his dwarf died a warrior, his hands were washed of Tyrion and he made no effort to try and save him. He needed to get back to his wife.

Ser Loras, Tywin and other senior officers found horses to mount and charge back towards the Red Keep. As their horse approached, people in the city realized the war was over. Scream of joys and hollers were chanted at the riding party as they made their way up to the castle. Tywin marched through the front gates and straight to the throne room. Upon arrival he found his daughter sitting on the throne with his grandson.

“The battle is over.” He said approaching her. “We have won!”

He knew exactly what his daughter was about to do, being prisoners of war holds a special kind of cruelty and he silently was proud that his daughter would protect her son from that. Tommen ran up to his grandfather, hugging him as Tywin easily whisked him up. “I knew we would win!” He smiled with his half teeth, few of which fell through in the last fortnight. He handed Tommen back to Cersei and began walking towards the rear grounds, as fast as his feet would take him.

His wife however was no where to be found, as ladies reunited with their husbands and fathers, he looked for his wife amidst the crowd, he caught one of her ladies to question them. “Where is Lady Y/N?” His heart was thumping loud enough for his ears to ring. Did his wife run away? With his children? Was this a rouse, and if so where was his son? He was trying not to overthink but he couldn’t help it

“She took Lady Sansa to your tower, my lord.” Tywin shut his eyes. The secret passage! His wife not only ran from him but took a political hostage along with her. He was nearly furious, and to think he almost cared for her. He nodded at his men to go to the entrance of the passageway. He had let you make a fool out of him. Just like his father.

You had been wailing in pain for god knows how long. You’d washed the blood of your hands and mouth after Jamie managed to get you to your chambers and sat you down at the edge of the bed. Sansa scurried behind him, looking mortified at the pain you were in. “Lady Sansa, check if there is any water left in the basins. Does not matter if it is cold.” Jamie nodded at the young lady as he undid the cloak from your body, taking your jewelry along with it. Sansa returned with the basin and a cloth, setting it next to the bed then turning to help Jamie undo the ties on the back of your dress. You were too huge to have a corset on, and simply had a long tunic in underneath. you buried your head in the sheets as you were hunched over the edge of the bed. Your feet in the cold floor and you screamed in pain, into the sheets.

“My lady, Y/N. please you have to lay down.” Jamie urged while rubbing your back.

You lifted your head, absolutely distraught and broken. “No…no, please I can’t do this.” You swallowed and continued to sob. “I need him, I need my husband.” You cried in pain and Jamie face scrunched up in sorrow too. “Please, please I need Tywin.” You screamed out his name as you buried your head back into the sheets. Both Sansa and Jamie were much larger than you, both attempting to lift you onto the bed, but your fierce protests made them stop, not wanting to hurt you any further.

“Lady Y/N…” Jamie tried to lift you head up “Please,” his hand held tighter onto your face but you would not let up. “Y/N!” He raised his voice making you look at him. “You said I was the best swordsmen, to teach my brothers. Who do you think I learned it from? It was my father. He will be fine, but if you do not lay down…” He paused not wanting to say it. “You and my siblings won’t be be. Please Lady Y/N.” You nodded sniffling at him, screaming out as you got up to reposition yourself against the pillows.

Sansa had already set the pillows up, to lift your back up a bit. Even then your crying didn’t let up, you were in unimaginable pain, you body ringing from the slow loss of blood. Sansa rubbed the cool cloth on your forehead, trying to calm you down and comfort you. Jamie left the room to try and figure out what was taking so long. “You could leave.” You said to Sansa in between sobs, you finger weekly pointing at the wall that held the passageway. She looked conflicted between the wall and you, she had a choice to make. Fredrick had comeback, and you could send him with her. You’d deal with the repercussions of it later but for now this was her choice

She looked to you and nodded no, her childish features coated in worry at you state. You held her hand tightly, squeezing it as way of showing your gratitude to her, for staying. Mentally swearing to yourself to protect the young Stark girl with everything you had. Your pains only grew worse, making you even more terrified then before, you heard the chants and screams outside the city. Maybe if you died and the babies did too, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, you sobbed out in fear. The war was lost, and here you were, hours away from giving birth. Your panicked eyes looked to your friend, his cool hand stroking your damp and hot forehead. Jamie soon returned, he too found no luck in finding help, he wasn’t a maester but he had been there as his sister birthed three babies. The pain soon turned to fatigue and exhaustion, making the corners of your eyes blur as the room got darker, you were tired, so very tired. You eyelashes fluttered close making as three of them panic.

“Y/N, you must stay awake!” Jamie patted your clammy cheek, Sansa tried her best to cool you off, which was most likely the reason of you fatigue. It was only a moment of unconsciousness before you jolted awake from pain stabbing directly on your lower spine. Sansa on the verge of tears at your state. With no maesters, there was no one to give you nightshade to help with the pain. All the raw aching of birth, clawed at your insides.

Jangles of metal where soon heard from the steps of the tower. You held Sansa closer to you, closing your eyes and accepting what was soon to be your fate. The pain making it almost impossible to not yelp out, you bit onto your knuckles to try and muffle yourself. Fredrick and Jamie drew their swords at the ready for whoever was going to burst the door. You felt yourself slipping again. Sansa crying and shaking you to stay awake as your hold on her loosened.

The first set of doors kicked open, Sansa held onto your hands tighter, the poor thing was far more terrified than you were, seeming to have not accepted what was about to happen. When your room door burst open, you were completely out again in pain, Sansa shielding herself from watching both men be killed. “Please don’t hurt us.” She chanted on the crook of your neck, covering your unconscious body with hers.

Instead of the Baratheon armour, she opened her eyes to red Lannister armour on a blond haired body. Your husband stood right in front of your still body huffing, eyes enraged but then turning to worry as he took in the mess on your bed. Blood stained the sheets in between you legs, your body clammy and sweaty, your eyes closed as your body laid completely limp against the Stark girl. His feet carried him to the side of the bed, his ears ringing as he took in the blood and your body. Your heart thudding against your chest was the only testament, you were alive. Sansa moved away so that Tywin could hold you, he pushed your hair away, that stuck to your face. Nearly rocking your body back and forth and tapping your cheek to wake you up.

“Do wake up, come one.” He could not do this again, he could not lose another woman he cared for to this.

“Go find help! Now!” Tywin yelled at all three of them, Jamie pulled Sansa out of the room with him as he left. There would be help this time for sure as the word of victory spread through the castle, people rejoiced and came out of hiding. Tywin was surely going to reprimand those cowards, for not showing up when they were called for the first time. His lip gently quivered.

“You are going to be okay, you must wake up!” He commanded your limp body. “I should have come sooner, fought harder. My love I’m so sorry.” He pressed kisses on your forehead, focusing on the beating of your heart. Strength began to find you again as you groaned awake, when you saw your husband’s face above you, you thought you were dead for sure.

“Tywin?” You groaned, and realized you were indeed not dead as pain coursed through your body again, shooting you awake. As your hands roamed your husband’s face, the reality set in that your husband was fine and you cried out in relief. “You came back.” You cried as your forehead was pressed to his, he simply nodded as a sad smile pulled on both of your faces, the intimate moment interrupted by another shooting pain, making your curl further into your husband’s chest.

“It hurts.” You sobbed, you weren’t sure if you could do this.

Tywin held your face in his hands. “You are stronger than I’d hoped for, you are my wife.” His voice, assertive yet comforting “You are going to survive this, as you have every adversity in life. Our children just want to meet us, my love.” You laughed at his last comment before groaning in pain again. “I wish I had said this sooner, I love you Lady Y/N, with all my heart. You cannot give up now, there is so much more I have intended for us.” He wiped the tears from your eyes, pushing your further up into the pillows as he heard people up the Tower steps.

“I love you too.” You whispered as his lips ghosted yours, he pressed a kiss to your lips and pulled away as the maesters arrived. He scowled at the lot of them but gave them room to work, he watched as they gave you night shade for the pain, nurses cleaning up your face as the other half rushed in with basins of hot water and towels. A few of the nurses tried to get Tywin to leave but he merely glared at them, which made them scurry away. Tywin held your hand as they positioned you for the birth, the pain easing up due to the medicine but your entire body was exhausted. Given how much stress and pain it had gone through for the past three hours.

The maesters were ready for you to push, you children surely were eager. You looked to your husband terrified as his hand stroked your head. He nodded at you and you took a deep breath in before letting out your first push. Yelping out by the end of it. With the constant change of nurses, the open doors of the Tower had made everyone aware that Lady Lannister was in labour. Your screams coated half of the Red Keep. Tywin urging you through most of it, paying no mind to the crushing grip you held on his hand. The sun was up in the sky as your first baby was almost out, your head fell back on pillow as exhaustion covered you, you just wanted to sleep. Tywin, the maesters and nurses all urged you on, you took a deep breath before letting out a curdling scream as your firstborn was pulled from you. The maester held the bundle up, smacking it on the back, resulting in the baby to cry. Tywin and you smiled at each other as he pressed a kiss to your temple

“A healthy baby boy, my lord.” You cried in relief but your perils weren’t over yet, the second child was easier to push out, took merely an hour as he came out in the world. However when the maester smacked the second baby it did not cry. The entire room fell silent as your smiles faded simultaneously. Tywin shuffled up to check the baby himself.

“T-Tywin? What is going on. Why isn’t he crying.” Your chest heaved from the strain earlier, your bottom lip wobbling as the nurses covered you view. They held your legs as they coaxed you through the afterbirth. You weakly fought against them. “Tywin!” You cried as you felt your body slipping back into the state of unconsciousness. You could see him standing next to the maesters but you couldn’t see your boy. Right as you slipped through, another light smack rang through the air, silence and then a shrill cry of a baby. The entire room huffed in relief as you passed out.

“What is wrong with her?” Tywin panicked as he saw your limp body. About to blow a blood vessel. He rushed to your side again

“She is just asleep, my lord.” The maester assured him. “Lady Lannister’s heart is strong.” Tywin held you as the cleaned your body up.

Tywin stood by the bassinet in his room, his wife out cold in his bed. She was moved after she was cleaned up, and here laid his children. Both sported the blond of house Lannister, yet they looked every bit like their mother. He hushed his oldest twin, Tyeon as he let out a small cry while waking up. Holding the baby to his chest as he looked down to the almost burned out pyre in the rear gardens. A haunting reminder of how horribly last night could have ended, he looked at the two little boys and then to their asleep mother, and vowed to himself. He would do everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family with whatever time he had left. He rocked Tyeon back and forth, trying to get the little one to sleep. The wet nurses had already fed the two of them, as their mother slept the day away. Though he grew a little weary of how long you were asleep for, the maesters reassured him of your health and merely to give you time to find your strength.

You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but when you woke up. An orange hue coated the room, you were settled in. By the canopy you knew you had been moved to your husband’s room, you groaned trying to look around and blinking to clear your eyes. You husband stood by the window with a baby cradled in his arm, your groan making his eyes snap to you. “Look who is awake.” He told the little baby as he walked over to sit next to you. Placing the boy in the bassinet with his brother before helping you sit up, a gentle amount of pain still causing you discomfort. He picked Tyeon up and handed him to you before picking the other boy up.

“Oh, hello. I’m your mother.” You introduced yourself to your boys in a baby voice. “Have you named him yet.” You asked, gesturing to your second born and Tywin nodded no.

“How about Jamie.” You suggested with a lazy smile on your face.

Tywin looked like he was thinking of something and then said “Two Jamies? Wouldn’t that be a little confusing to the court?” He had a point.

“Well, if I say Jamie threw up on me. It would be pretty obvious which Jamie I was speaking about.” You made your point that made Tywin chuckle.

“Thank you, my love.” You looked to him confused as he looked at the boys in both your arms lovingly. “Thank you for making me a father again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips. You settled further onto the bed, your back resting against Tywin’s chest. You’d endure the torture of last night a hundred times over. If it meant that you would have your children with you.

next chapter

#Spotify #tywin lannister x reader #desiblr #tywin lannister #house lannister #got x reader #tywin x reader #got x you #tears of gold au #tywin lannister smut #bucky barnes #ruiewrites

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floatyflowers · 5 months

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Male! Cersei Lannister x Lannister! Reader

Cedrik Lannister is spitful, and narcissistic.

But he managed to make you, his cousin, fall in love with him.

A little manipulation about how 'Lannisters belong together' he managed to seduce you.

Especially since your husband Robert cheats with every female in the corner and only thinks about Lyanna.

But Cedrik made you felt loved even though you tried to stay loyal, but you ended up falling for your cousin.

And what made you fall harder for him is when he refused to get married because he has no eyes except for you.

That is true even if he is a toxic person.

You managed to have Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen as Robert's children with the plotting of Cedrik.

But when Robert dies, and your eldest child with him becomes the king, Cedrik makes himself present at your side and children's side.

Especially when Ned threatens to reveal the truth.

That didn't end well for the Starks, did it?

Tywin also takes charge of advising Joffrey, knowing very well that he is his grandchild.

When you begin to see how Joffrey is unfit to be a king and Cedrik being a horrid father figure, you tried to take Tommen and Myrcella and flee.

But you failed, and Cedrik made Joffrey lock you up.

"We are getting soon, we will become a real family, didn't you always want that, my dove?"

Seeing all your three children die drove you to become more depressed

Not knowing that your husband is suffering as much as you.

When Cedrik is certain that Daenerys burned down King's landing and was coming for him.

He went straight to your chambers, and laid in your embrace just like you used to do in your and his youth.

All you did is smile down at him as he cries and keeps apologizing for everything that happened.

You only comfort him with a head pat and a sentance.

"We can join our children now"

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #yandere game of thrones #Yandere cersei #cersei lannister #cersei lannister x reader #Male Cersei Lannister #possessive

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kumralada · 11 months

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Arya’s Queen Foreshadowings

At the Inn of the Kneeling Man, where Torrhen Stark bent the knee and swore fealty to Aegon the Conqueror, Harwin went to knee before Arya

“She broke my nose.” Lem dumped her unceremoniously to the floor. “Who in seven hells is she supposed to be?” “The Hand’s daughter.” Harwin went to one knee before her. “Arya Stark, of Winterfell.”

A Storm of Swords - Arya II

Arya fits perfectly into Varys' features of an ideal ruler speech.

Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."

- Epilogue, ADWD

Ned tells Arya that she will marry the king and then tells Sansa that she will marry high lord.

"You," Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, "will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon." Arya screwed up her face. “No,” she said, “that’s Sansa.”

A Game of Thrones - Eddard V

"Sweet one," her father said gently, "listen to me. When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.

Her direwolf's name comes from a queen.

He was still trying to decide on a name. Robb was calling his Grey Wind, because he ran so fast. Sansa had named hers Lady, and Arya named hers after some old witch queen in the songs, and little Rickon called his Shaggydog, which Bran thought was a pretty stupid name for a direwolf.

A Game of Thrones - Bran II

Old Gods tell her to reclaim her name and call her Daughter of the North

"But there is no pack," she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. "I'm not even me now, I'm Nan." "You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you."

A Clash of Kings - Arya X

Arya has many leadership and queen foreshadowings in the books, but here are the most obvious ones.

#arya stark #asoiaf #asoiaf meta

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fadingdaggerr · 1 year

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home bound

part one | part two | part three | part four

pairing: brienne of tarth x gn!reader

summary: perhaps the era of searching for one another is over

warnings: s5-6 spoilers, got stuff, so much mutual pining, useless lesbian disorder

note: sorry for the late ass update, i’ve had a lot going on in my personal life, esp in the financial area. not thriving. anyways we’ve got one chapter left after this one!!

ps. posting this at work, i’ll proof better later :) (update: the layout got horribly fucked up after posting and paragraphs got deleted but i fixed it hopefully)

you’re quite beautiful…

these words played in brienne’s head every night. a vision of your eyes looking into hers, your hand laced with her own. her chest grows warms at just the memory of you, but soon the cracks grow larger. only a memory, and a fading one at that.

…perhaps handsome even.

brienne’s eyes shoot open, stone ceiling of castle black staring back at her. she sighs deeply, turning over and shoving her face into her pillow. how could someone miss another so much? she barely knew you, at least that’s what she told herself. in reality, she felt your souls had met millennia ago.

leaving her quarters, she finds her place beside lady sansa. she hears the boisterous laughter of the fellow free-folk, but quickly avoids them, not in the mood to deal with tormund’s ‘compliments.’ she would never admit she misses yours, at least not aloud. she further refuses to admit that if tormund’s words were said by you, they’d have worked long ago.

“you and podrick will go to riverrun, deliver this letter to brynden tully. he’s my uncle, i expect he’ll agree to my terms,” sansa speaks, breaking brienne’s thoughts.

“yes, my lady,” brienne states coolly, she hides her distraction well.

riverrun was fully surrounded by the king’s army, an army of tommen’s name was under cersei’s control, jaime leading it by her every word. her heart raced just knowing he was there, knowing they sat on opposite sides just as she always feared. she had considered him a friend at one point in time, but he was lost in a maze of his sister’s design.

in short, everything went to shit, at least in brienne’s books. the blackfish denied sansa’s request to aid them in taking back winterfell. the lannisters and freys laid siege to riverrun, jaime and brienne now on opposite ends of a coming war. the boat ride was silent.

after getting off the boat they escaped riverrun with, brienne and podrick both look to each other, hearing whistles from above. at first they both dismiss it, probably a bird. as they continued walking, the whistles grew longer, song-like, but they remained faint. brienne and podrick were sure there was no bird now, they stared at each other with twisted faces.

realization spreads across their faces, a wide grin forming on podrick’s lips, brienne’s eyes widening. the both look up into the trees, following the whistles. a branch drops from a pine tree in the distance, brienne’s feet immediately carry her to it. the branch had been hollowed towards one of the ends, a rolled sheet of parchment nestled inside. podrick mutters a little, how clever! to himself as her hands scrambled to free the correspondance.

brienne of tarth-

i hear twin lions are circling riverrun, do you often walk so freely into trouble all by your lonesome? please tell me you have the bloody horn. tell podrick to stop looking at the ground when he walks.

- no name of tarth

reading it aloud, brienne can feel herself smiling, she sees podrick is as well. she reads it over and over again, you’ve been insistent. she’s been too proud to use the horn, not wanting to look like she needs you, misses you, cares for you.

“two questions, my lady. first, do i really look at my feet that much when i walk? second, what horn?” podrick asks, head looking straight up to avoid his boots.

“yes, and a horn that was conveniently put in my stores without me knowing until i had already left the camp. that was four years ago, when i first met the skyforth with ser jaime,�� she says his name bitterly, but podrick notes the small smile at the mention of the horn.

“you’ve had a horn to contact an entire hoard of fighters, and you’ve just… not used it? why not?”

she sighs, “i only agreed to answering two questions.”

podrick decides to aim low, “wait until lady sansa finds out you have… i don’t know… three, four hundred skilled fighters whose commander is your friend. and you’ve said nothing.”

brienne pushed him against the tree, sword against his throat, “are you suggesting i’m failing at my duties? that i have forsaken lady sansa?” her jaw is set, eyes boring into podrick’s, nostrils flaring with anger.

“no, no, no… just wondering why you hadn’t mentioned it. can you take that away now?” his eyes only left brienne’s to look at oathkeeper.

she drops her offensive state, “no more talking until the sun rises.”

—

the calm of the night had always been soothing. most nights you found yourself alone by the fire, staring into the flames or tracing constellations above. sometimes you’d glance to your right in hopes you’d gone crazy and could at least hallucinate to have her presence. only so much ale can be drank by one person. admittedly, you’ve also never lasted long enough to get to the ‘psychotic break’ level of drunk, usually tapping out after singing with the men.

singing with everyone once made you feel carefree, no one can really hear each other, just everyone together. the songs of loving women in far away lands sounded joyous, but after the third one you could only stare at the flames. songs that once brought you joy now made you bitter. she wasn’t far, she just wouldn’t reach too.

your stream of insecure thoughts came to a halt, hearing something. you scan around, realizing everyone had retired for the evening. you stood alone, only a few cups left around for companions. guess i’m going crazy now, you think to yourself with a huffed laugh.

but there is it again, a sound in the distance. a horn. your legs move before you brain takes in everything, and you’re sprinting like your life depends on it. immediately unwrapping the lead from the post, you mount your horse, and have her head northwest quickly. if you could hear the horn this clearly she had to be close, she reached out. gods you hope it’s her, or else you’re are potentially, royally screwed.

your horse continues her faster pace, you reach into the saddle pouch for your own horn. waiting til you get further away to call with your horn, you slow the mare to listen closer. the approaching of a horse behind you switches the horn from one hand to the other, dominant hand holding a dagger.

“commander!” a whisper yell calls out.

gods you almost threw the knife in anger, “larkin, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“i heard the horn too. you can’t seriously think i’m going to let you go into the forest, alone, at night. even if it’s lady brienne,” the boy was completely unfazed by your outburst, having grown used to it at this point. he’d known you all his life, your threats were about as scary as a rabbit to him.

“fuck, i can’t even be mad at you. next time don’t scare the shit out of me,” you nod to each other before continuing your journey.

“are you sure it’s her?” larkin asks after a few minutes, concern in his voice for the pending disappointment he’ll face if it’s not lady brienne.

you share the same feeling. there’s only a slim chance it is, but you have to try, hoping your silent prayers had worked. “not at all, but i hope so,” you say truthfully.

—

the fire soothed the chill that had crept into brienne and podrick’s bones. both sets of armor were taken off to allow the warmth to flood their bodies. podrick was poking the fire every few minutes, desperately trying to feel awkward in the silence.

brienne, however, had yet to take her eyes off the flames. her mind was doing arithmetic and backflips thinking about the horn. had it even worked, would she even know? how would you know it’s her? she wished she hadn’t used it, knowing that she had gotten her hopes up.

“my lady… my lady… my lady!” pod yells.

her head whips in his direction, “i said no talking until sunrise.”

“i know what you said, but there’s approaching horses in the distance. we need to smother this and go, it could be the lannisters or freys.”

she immediately rises and moves to grab her armor, podrick following. over the last couple of years they had fallen into a rhythm, all the armor put on quickly and campsite set to abandon. they moved to find a hiding place, hoping they could avoid any conflict, but their hands both sat on their swords. the horses’ steps got closer, indistinct voices now joining. she closed her eyes, gods she really did not need this right now.

the voices became clearer, a male voice spoke first, “are you gonna use that or are you just going to look at it like it just called you ugly?”

brienne sees podrick almost laugh, she hits him with her elbow. she hears an ow! don’t throw shit at me that brings her back to the moment.

a voice that was all too familiar spoke next. one that had been in dreams during slumber and during the waking hours, the very same that called her beautiful. she thought her mind was playing tricks on her, cruel tricks at that.

“we haven’t gotten anything in a while,” brienne’s heart is beating so fast she thinks she might pass out.

“maybe it’s not one of ours then?” the male voice responds. she hears one of you dismount your horse, then leaves moving around.

“buried the fire. they probably heard us coming, the wood’s still warm, they have to be clo-”

“PODRICK!” the male yells out.

brienne grasps pod’s arm to stop him, but he shoots up anyways, “LARKIN?!” he immediately starts running back towards the camp, brienne grumbles and follows.

“aye!” larkin exclaims, hopping off his horse to greet his friend. they were the same height now, larkin now a teenager who was quite capable with a sword. the boys shake arms, pulling each other in with pats on the back.

brienne catches up, and slides to a halt when she sees you. your serious expression drops, eyes now wide and focused on her. you start moving towards her, and out of the corner of your eye you see podrick hold larkin back from running to brienne.

“lady brienne,” she thinks your voice is like honey, rich and sweet.

“commander,” your heart is shaking just hearing her voice.

you clear your throat, “finally used that horn, i see. it’s only been what… four years?”

brienne ignores her shaking voice, “i was busy.”

you smile lightly, “i’m sure you were, my lady. dinner then travel to castle black when the sun rises?”

“i’m starting to wonder if you’re a witch.”

you laugh heartily, “i’m not foolish enough to meddle with the gods,” a deep breath escapes your lungs, “on the horse now, back to camp.”

larkin assists podrick onto his horse to make traveling easier. brienne hardly thought you’d propose the same for you and her. she watched you quickly get settled on the mare, petting her neck gently, before rounding over to brienne.

your arm reaches out to her, “my lady?”

brienne decided against speaking and just grabs your arm and hoists herself up onto the horse. she decides to grip the saddle instead of your waist, but to both your, and hers, displeasure. she thinks she would have if larkin and podrick weren’t riding beside you two.

—

brienne arrives at you tent after receiving a change of clothes and taking a warm-ish bath. she knocks on the post, and hears you mumble for her to enter. you’re facing away from her, arms holding you above the table so you could look at the map. she just watches you for a moment, taking you in fully now.

“are you going to speak or just stare?”

brienne clears her throat, “i’m sorry.” her words held more weight than an apology for staring, you knew this.

“why should you be? you were doing what you were set out to do. i apologize for my selfish behavior, expecting you to use the horn at all,” your disgust with yourself ran through heavily.

“turn around.”

you turn your head towards her, “what?”

“turn around,” you’re about to counter but she cuts you off, “all the way not just your face.”

you do, “happy?”

she looks around, double checking that no one will see her, you follow her gaze. she suddenly grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer. she squeezes you tightly, “very.”

you’re surprised by her actions, but it doesn’t show. your eyes close immediately as to let you relish in the moment. she moves to let go, doubt filling her head when you don’t reciprocate her embrace. the second her grip lessens, your arms go around her waist, squeezing just as tight, “i’m glad. me too.”

“so you’re coming with us to castle black?”

“if lady sansa wants more help taking back winterfell, i might just stay a while too,” you fight the smile that begs to grow on your face, the sparkle in her eyes not helping.

she pulls back with her hands on your shoulders looking at you sweetly. you fight back the giant smile that comes naturally upon looking in her eyes, she was so strong yet the most careful and gentle person you’d ever met. she made you feel like you were made of glass and wildflowers, and not the steel and rot that life had so graciously given you.

—

castle black, as ragnall put it, was ‘one hell of a fucker.’ the large gates and towers had the entire company’s head staring up, but yours stay straight ahead. your eyes focus on the entrance, desperately trying to ignore brienne’s hands resting gently on your hips. larkin was talking away next to you, having the attention of podrick, brienne, and a few others as he tells his story. a squeeze on your hip brings you to reality, your head shoot up and dart around.

“we’re here,” her voice is so close, warm breath caressing your ear. she dismounts the horse to talked to the guards at the gate, podrick following. you turn the horse around to speak to your men.

“start building the town, no stables, extra target set up. ragnall, dorin, larkin, you’re with me. full respect men, this is the night’s watch, and there’s free-folk as well. the proper lady of winterfell is here too, so best behavior,” your met with a collective groan, “thank you for your enthusiasm.”

you turn back around at brienne’s voice calling to you, trailing towards her with your companions behind you. she grabs the lead of your horse, despite knowing you’re fully capable of riding in by yourself. thankfully for them, you miss the three behind you sharing knowing looks between them.

“my woman, you’ve returned to me,” a boisterous voice says. brienne sighs heavily, podrick snickering next to you. you turn around to look at the source of the voice, seeing the most red-haired man you’d ever met. his? by the sound of her reaction, this was thankfully not the case.

“hello tormund,” she says without much personality.

“who’s your friend?” he nods your way, eyes scanning behind you, “and your friend’s friends?”

“her friend and these three are capable of hearing and speaking on their own,” you dismount your horse, and extend your arm, “commander of the skyforth, at your service.”

“so you’re the big shot in charge of 400 men? sure.”

“the one and only,” your eyes don’t leave his, boring into him so hard brienne thinks you might kill him.

just as tormund is about to speak again, brienne cuts in, “tormund, you’ll lose any game you try to play right now, trust me,” she turns to you, “how about we go meet with lady sansa?”

walking in to face lady sansa surprisingly had you nervous, but it didn’t show. you bowed to her, the men following your move. sansa is weary of you, and you show no signs of being upset by this. you carefully and truthfully speak about the history of skyforth, how you’d been supporters of the north for a long time. you left out tarth and your previous encounters with brienne, mostly for privacy but also with a fear of making a fool of yourself.

“and you trust the skyforth, brienne?”

“i do, my lady.”

“you’d fight beside them, beside their commander?”

“i would,” her voice is the most serious you’d ever heard her. her voice was stone, her confidence in you alone was enough make anyone cower. it was enough to make you feel fuzzy inside.

“and you? will you and your men really lay your lives down for the north?” sansa’s state could rip you in half if you answered wrong.

“it would be the most honorable death to die fighting for the north, for winterfell, for the stark name.”

sansa seems please with your answer, she dismisses everyone. brienne moves back to her side, while you turn to leave. your three companions follow, all three of us feeling the weight of the north’s eyes on you. the northmen are a loyal people, and you understand that you are outsiders brought by over outsiders, you ignore their looks. when you exit, you send dorin, larkin, and ragnall away, needing to think on your own.

the crunching of snow behind you alerts you that you’re not alone anymore. you wrap you dark cloak around yourself, you don’t have to look, you know it’s her. she stands next to you, looking across the horizon with you. she can sense that you’re not fully there, but she doesn’t say anything. she just stands next to you, soaking in your presence.

“you didn’t mention your super fan,” is all you say, continuing to stare at the trees ahead.

she chuckles, “at first i thought he was just trying to make fun of me, but now i think he’s just gone insane.”

“at least we know he’s not blind,” you mutter, “but still, already quite low on my list.”

she looks at you now, fighting the smile already on her lips, “and why would that be commander?”

you smile and shake your head, "i think we both know the answer to that question, my lady."

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