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catsteeth · 1 month

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Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl

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Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, SMUT, MDNI, Fingering, P in V sex, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 5125

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you’d just finished getting Margery ready for the day she sat you down and began to ready you as well. It wasn’t custom for a Lady to dress and pretty her Hand Maiden but Margery had taken the responsibility voluntarily and happily.

“Podrick was seen where?” You asked wide eyes, holding in a laugh.

“Little Finger’s brothel,” Margery replied with a smirk as she brushed your hair.

You shook your head with a smile “I will not believe such rumors.”

“I hear the whores did not receive a payment.” Her fingers twisting the front sections of your hair and braiding them together at the back of your head.

“You’re suggesting he didn’t pay them?” You asked with disbelief. He didn’t seem like the type of man to pay for a whore, much less the type of man to steal their time and effort.

“I am suggesting they did not want a payment. I hear that he was so skilled, they wouldn’t accept his payment.” She said as she finished your hair and she sat in front of you, beginning to do your makeup.

“Now that I can’t believe it.” You said holding back laughter,

“You never know for sure with men like him. Quiet, and sweet, they can be sensitive to a woman's needs.” She said putting

“I’ve been pinned against enough trees on Bear Island by enough men to know, no tongue, fingers, cock, or even nose is good enough to turn down gold.”

“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps you’re wrong, there is only one way to find out.”

“Oh please, he can hardly hold his gaze to mine.”

“Some would say that means he likes you, besides the poor boy gave you a flower. One of the sweetest, and pathetic things I have ever seen.” She jested.

“He doesn’t want me, not like that.” You always found it hard to believe that any man would be interested in you beyond bedding.

she rolled her eyes as she finished applying a rouge to your lips. She fixed your hair slightly and half a small compact mirror to your face.

“if i were a man i would ravish you.” she smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Margery had done your makeup and hair countless times. Every morning after you’d done hers, but each time always made sure to tell you how beautiful you were. even if you didn’t believe it.

“a man would ravish a horse if desperate enough.” you pushed the compact away, you got up and began to select the gowns you’d both wear to the celebratory feast tonight.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

That evening was a celebration of the victory of Tywin Lannister. Nothing for you to feel celebratory for, but it gave you an opportunity to dance and drink.

Most of the night you and Margrey had danced with one another, made quite jokes about the other men there. But once the celebration began to wind down Margrey had found an excuse to speak to Joffrey, part of her plan to seduce him. So naturally you made yourself scarce. Finding a corner of the room to stand in while you drank.

It would have been perfect to end your night in peace if a tall man didn’t approach you.

He could have been some noble man or a knight, kings guard, even city watch, you didn’t know and more importantly did not care.

“My, who might you be, my Lady.” He asked, his voice was low and attempting to sound seductive.

“(Y/N) Mormont.” You said as you drank from your cup, your eyes wandered the room, paying little attention to the attractive man in front of you. As your eyes searched the large room, they landed on a pair of eyes already looking at you, Podrick’s. He looked at you with the eyes of a sad dog.

It caught you so off guard you didn’t hear whatever the man had just said, only the mumbling of words. You tore your eyes from his and looked at the man, “What?” burrowed furrowed in frustration.

“I said, then you are not much of a Lady.” He said with a twisted grin

“Is that so?” You said emotionlessly, unwilling to show any kind of offense that might have been taken. Fearing it would give him too much power. Besides, you did not care about the opinions of southerners.

“Hand Maidens are not Ladies of any land, are they not?”

“Perhaps.” You said your eyes returned to scanning the room, trying to find Podrick again, but having no luck.

“I could make you feel like one for tonight.” He held out his hand to you,

You held your cup to your lips as you spoke, “I’ve no wish to dance with you, Ser”.

“I cannot dance with a handmaiden,” The man smirked, his hand snaking around your waist. “I can enjoy one though.” He whispered in your ear.

You smirked back, and then you leaned in, making him think you were about to kiss him when you kicked him in the shin. “Oh!” You fained shock as he grunted in pain “My apologies Ser, I have always been quite clumsy.” Your concerned and shock demeanor dropped as you began to walk away. He began to spit some curse your way when you stomped on his foot. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.”

As you walked forward a few steps before the man grabbed ahold of your wrist.

“You northern who-” He was interrupted by Podrick’s voice.

“My Lady, the Queen wishes to have a word with you.” He spoke louder than usual. His eyes were wide and looked almost angry.

You ripped your hand away from the man's grasp and walked with Podrick out of the room.

“What does she want?” You asked, rubbing your wrist.

“Nothing, I made that up.” He said avoiding your gaze as you both walked down the hall.

“You made that up?” You looked at him with wide eyes, he nodded still avoiding your gaze. “Well, thank you.” You said softly.

He’d walked you all the way to your chambers with no other words were exchanged between the two of you, other than the occasional glance at one another. You had reached your chambers door, you looked over at him as you began to open the door.

He was ready to nod and walk away when you said, “Podrick,” To which his eyes went directly to yours. You didn’t say another word, just walked into your chambers leaving the door open.

He hesitated for a moment, but walked in after you.

He stood there, showing just how intimidated he was.

As you kicked your shoes off, and removed the necklace Margery allowed you to barrow for the night, you looked over your shoulder to him “Close the door.” You said softly, and so he did.

As you turned to him and began to walk towards him, his eyes subconsciously went from your eyes to your cleavage. Now more exposed now that you’d removed your necklace. He couldn’t help it really. Your corset and gown were truly putting them on display, and the candle light from your room made your skin glow beautifully. You smirked when you noticed, making him swallow hard and return his gaze to your eyes. He was going to apologize but you reached for his hand making him choke back any words he had.

You held his hand, looking at his now healed cut, now formed scar across the palm of his hand.

You trailed the scar with your finger tip.

“You’re seducing me-” He finally found some courage to spit out some words.

“You feel seduced?” You still held his hand, still admiring your work on his hand.

“Yes- I mean, it is intentional isn’t it?” He stammered, somehow a little out of breath.

“Do you want it to be?” You looked at him with a grin and mischievous grin.

“I don’t want to offend you-” He said softly, looking away.

“So you don’t?” You let go of his hand,

“No- no,” His eyes went wide as he stammered, “I want you to, want to seduce me.” He winced at his own words, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Why would that offend me?” You smiled softly, holding back a giggle.

“I am just a squire, my Lady.” He shook his head looking down

“And here in King's Landing, I am just a handmaiden they send to patch up knights and Lords.” You said softly

“You are Lady Mormont.” He said, it made you smile. No one had given such respect to your name in so long.

“You’re sweet.” You brushed his short hair around his ear with your fingertips “Have you ever seduced a woman?” You asked sweetly, you knew the rumors of the whore house, but didn’t know if you could believe it.

“No, no, not really.” He said like we were being honest… maybe he was.

“Show me how you would.” You said looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you think I was seducing you?”

“You, made me… feel-” he stammered.

“Mhmm, so try to make me feel…”

He stepped closer to you, meekly, his head lowered. He reached out and lightly ran his hand over your hair. Taking a strand of it and looking at it, admiring the color of it, and its texture. He looked into your eyes, his head still lowered.

“You are beautiful.” His hand then went from your hair, to trailing his hand gently down your arm and grabbing your hand softly. He played with your fingers, again, gently.

“I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He didn’t stammer, his voice was earnest, and gentle.

“This is wooing, not seducing.” You smiled and corrected him as if he were acting, genuinely thinking he were making it up.

“I’m not trying to do either, my Lady.” Your smile dropped, “I just wish to be near you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You said pulling your hand away. “How we first met, tell me that.”

“Lord Slynt ordered you to pour him wine-”

“And I spit in it.”

“He deserved it.”

“I lied to him, and your lord.”

“Not to me.”

Your hardened gaze softened “No, no not to you” You lowered your head avoiding his eyes. afraid you’d melt in his sweetness. found yourself feeling that warm feeling in your chest again. You reached for his fingers with your own. interlocking your index finger with his.

“You are- different.” He stammered a bit “Special.” He corrected, thinking it sounded more flattering.

“You really are sweet. I don’t believe I've met a man so sweet as you.” He smiled, and in turn you smiled back, “You are shy, more so normally than you are now.”

He let out a small chuckle “I still feel shy.” He said as he looked down smiling

“Are you too shy for me to kiss you?”

Instead of responding to you he cupped your face in his hands. So gently it was as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the realm. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Soft and again, gentle. but also passionate and almost lustful. You were surprised how well he kissed. No, he didn’t kiss well, his kiss was intoxicating somehow. Maybe it was the wine on his lips or just skill. you couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper into his mouth. It made him pull away and go wide eyed.

“You’re quite good at that.” You said wide eyes, catching your breath a bit.

“I apologize-“ He said, still holding your head in his hands.

“For what?”

“I should have asked you first,”

“Too late for that now,” you said, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. Your lips fell into a perfect rhythm as his hands moved to your ribs, careful not to touch your breasts. his thumbs moved against your ribs slowly and gently.

You’d never felt this way with a man before. Normally it was sweaty, sloppy, and you ended it burnt out and covered in spit. This was like a dance, like you and he had kissed in every life.

You felt terrified. An emotion you rarely ever felt.

What if he was like every other man. They whisper sweet things in your ears, promises, and compliments. Then once they lifted your skirts and humped into you a few times they’d leave. You felt hurt the first time, maybe the second time too. But after that it was expected. So you never let yourself become invested in a man again. You used them as they used you.

But this was different, this wasn’t only lust, there was something more. But was this feeling only yours, or did you share it? You needed to test him, only you didn’t know quite how.

“Stop” You whispered in his mouth as you kissed, it made him stop immediately, and he stepped away from you, breathless.

“I- I’m sorry” He said about to go for the door before you stopped him grabbing his arm.

“No,”

“But you said-”

“I can’t bed you like this.” You said running your hands on the tight fabric of your gown.

“Bed me?” He asked as if he had choked, it made you smile.

“Will you wait here for me?” You asked, petting his cheek, and he nodded slightly confused.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You had gone into the bathing room that was attached between your room and Margery’s. You bathed quickly, washed your hair, washed your face of its makeup, and slipped into your night dress. The only thing you wore to cover your nakedness.

As you opened the door you saw Podrick lighting the fireplace in your room. He stood as he heard you open the door and looked in your direction as he said, “I thought you might be cold-” He was cut off by the sight of you. His eyes were enamored by the sight of you.

You hadn’t shown him this side of you. Totally free of glamor and shine. “Thank you,” You said as you walked towards him.

As you stood in front of him he still couldn’t let out any words. “Do you… not like it?”

He shook his head quickly, “This is the most I have ever seen of you.” he placed a hand on your cheek. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

You searched his eyes for a hint of deceit and found none. You took the hand he placed on your cheek and sat down on the fur carpet that laid in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with you. You looked at the scar on his hand again, this time placing a kiss on the scar.

“Thank you for what you did tonight.” He looked slightly confused, “The lie you told.” You explained.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but then I saw how he grabbed you.” He looked down, now beginning to simmer, “No one should grab you like that.” He said in a lower tone. “If I’d a sword, I wouldn’t have to tell a lie.” He became angered thinking of it.

You moved closer to him, beginning to undo the clasps on the front of his top. He looked intimidated again suddenly, “A sword hm?” He nodded, “What would you have told him?”

“To unhand you, or I’d remove his hand.” He said, with a darker tone of voice, it made you smile as you pulled his red leather top off, leaving him in his tunic.

“One day you’re going to be the only honorable knight in all of Westeros.” You saw heat rush to his cheeks when you said those words. “A big strong shining warrior.” You said crawling closer to him.

“You’re seducing me again.” He said staring at your lips, his eyes drifted downwards again to your cleavage again now further exposed by the thin fabric and the angle you were in from crawling to him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a whisper,

He shook his head “No,” He said, grasping your face in his hands kissing you so deeply you let out a small moan into his lips, only making him kiss you deeper.

His hands roamed your sides, as yours gripped the back of his neck and roamed his chest down to his stomach.

When your hand reached his stomach you felt his muscles twitch and he let out a small groan. The sound of his groan made you clench your thighs together.

Mixed with the sounds of your breathless whimpers he felt himself stiffening, “Can I touch you?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded and he whispered back “Thank you,” As his hands cupped your breasts. He let out a moan into your mouth as he groped you, feeling the plumpness of your breasts. You couldn’t take it anymore and began to lift your night dress. You stopped yourself however, not wanting to push him,

“Is this okay?” You asked, and he nodded frantically. To which you smiled and lifted the rest of it off. His hands gripped your breasts tighter, and his mouth moved from yours to your neck and shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your hot skin, repeating it over and over again.

One of your hands petted his hair, while the other went over his stomach to his now tenting trousers. You heard him moan into your neck and his hands gripped you tighter, making you moan in return.

“You sound beautiful too,” He whispered

“Take this off” You said much less elegantly as you pulled at the fabric of his shirt. As he did you laid down on the fur carpet under you. Looking up at him as he removed his tunic. You smiled up at him, “You’re quite pretty too.”

He shook his head in awe of you, “Not like you… You could be a painting,” He said, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and kissed your lips. Both your lips at this point were slightly swollen, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. Kissing with a new kind of passion.

You felt, for a moment, this might be much more. And if it was, you didn’t want to hide from him at all. You pulled away from his lips as you blurted out,

“I’ve been with men before you.” breathlessly, “I feel I should be honest with you.” You felt even more naked revealing that, you felt heat spread across your face.

“That’s alright.” He nodded, trying to reassure you. “And I- I have- I’ve been with women before you.”

Your eyes went wide, you thought back to the rumors you’d heard. “You have?” You shook your head to yourself trying to shake those thoughts out of your head. “That’s alright.” You said looking back at him, you smiled softly “It is, it’s alright.” You felt a hint of excitement, pulling him back into your body and to your lips.

You two kissed for a moment until his mouth ran down to your neck, covering your body in as many kisses as he could, making you giggle. Giggle until you feel his thumb run down the slit of your folds. Which made you gasp slightly and then smile at him, and he smiled back.

He leaned down and began to kiss and suck on your breasts.

You felt yourself becoming a wet and sticky mess and his thumb continued to roll up and down the slit of your folds, masterfully avoiding your clit, teasing you.

Finally his index and middle finger parted you, while his thumb gently teased your clit.

“Mmmmmm” you let out as you closed your eyes.

“Do you like that?” he asked softly into your breasts, all you could do was nod as he applied more pressure.

his teeth grazed your nipple with expertise. As though he knew just the right amount to use, how much you liked.

He continued to kiss, suck on, and sometimes lightly bite your breasts. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he moaned soft praises into your skin. while he kept circling your clit.

It was beginning to be too much and not enough. “More,” you whined, “Your fingers.” you said.

He nodded, “Show me, show me what you like.”

you reached your hand below, rubbing your clit only a little, then you pushed a finger in. He watched as your eyes closed from the pleasure

He inserted his finger alongside yours, feeling how you moved your own finger inside you.

The extra digit in you stretched you so nicely, you let out a small sigh as you smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

You inserted a second finger, and he followed suit. The stretch burned slightly, it had been a while since you had been with a man, and now already you’d four fingers inside you. Albeit two were smaller than the other two but still. You whined a little as you winced slightly. It made him lean down and kiss your lips.

“You’re wonderful” he said as he kissed your jaw and your neck, pumping his fingers in you with your own guiding him. You then removed your fingers, content to let him take control.

His fingers knew when to curl and when to relax, when to push against the soft spot in you, and knew just the right speed. No man had ever known how to draw out such pleasure from simply his fingers with you.

“Podrick-“ you gasped at certain curl of his fingers,

“My lady?” he said into your lips,

“Call me my name,” you said into his,

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)..(Y/N)…(Y/N)..” he repeated softly as he kissed your cheek, then your other cheek, then your forehead, then your eyelids, nose, and finally your lips.

You took his face into your hands, as gently as he took yours in his. You kissed him sweetly, as you pulled away you whispered “I want to make you feel good,”

He smiled and let out a small chuckle “I feel very good,”

You shook your head and rubbed your palm onto his tenting trousers, making him close his eyes tightly, “I want you to feel even better.”

Your touching continued until he was grunting and bucking into your hand, “I- I have to take these off.” He said with a bit of shame as he fumbled with the strings of his trousers. You gladly helped him with a smile on your flushed face.

As he was freed from his pants, you took him in your hand, looking at his cock. It was bigger than you had expected, and by far the prettiest one you’d seen. Most were crooked, too thin, or too wide but his was perfect.

“Pretty thing you’ve got there,” You said with a smile as you pulled him into another kiss.

As you did you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slinging your leg over his body.

He looked flustered with your boldness but pleased. “Thank you,” he responded.

“You’re welcome,” You said as you lined his cock, slick with precum against your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as you lowered yourself, pushing him inside of you.

You let out the prettiest of moans from your lips as did he.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you grinded him into you, in and out. The way his cock twitched inside of you hit the soft spot in you so deliciously each time, making you moan even louder.

You looked down at him, you ran your hand against his cheek as he looked back at you with a soft smile while moans left his lips.

The look in his eyes as he watched you squirm and whimper was a look you were not accustomed to.

All of the sudden, he pulled you down and rolled you onto your back. You were face to face, his arms wrapped around your body and yours around his. Your legs around his waist as he bucked into you, again and again. The way he did it, was as if he had done it a thousand times before.

He moved his hands to hold your face, and his other to hold your hand.

His thumb rubbed against your cheek, sweetly. Just before it left your cheek and trailed down your body to your cunt. Rubbing your clit in circles.

He could feel you clenching around him, his speed picked up and his mouth returned to your nipples. But his hand never left yours.

“I’m cuming, Podrick, I- mmhmm” You whined, only making him speed up even more.

You felt your legs shake, your toes curl, and the pressure in your stomach snap and the warmth in your core spread around his cock. You let out the prettiest of moans as you came. You gripped his hand tightly. And he peppered your chest and your neck in kisses. “I want you to cum,” You whispered as he continued to fuck into you.

“So warm… so wet.” He whimpered against your neck, “Gods, I need you.”

His thrusts in you became more and more erratic, you anticipated his cum filling you, you anticipated the heat that would fill you. You wanted it, badly. You smiled as you saw his face contort knowing it was coming, but he pulled out and came on the ground next to you.

You whined a little, “I wanted it,” You said in a whisper.

“You?-” He looked confused “You wanted it?”

You nodded, pouting a little.

“Why?” He asked, not being able to understand it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- to sully your body.” He said, sweet sentiment.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈꒱꒱

After he cleaned it up, you had gotten in bed.

He dressed himself back in his tunic and walked over to you where you pulled him into your bed.

He held you against his body, and you held him back. He just stared into your eyes, as he pet your cheek. He admired the way you looked against the light of the fire. His eyes trailed down your body and he saw the bruises he left from his kisses on your breasts. His thumb grazed over them as he said “I’m sorry, I-’

“You did nothing wrong,” You said as you gripped his face and pulled him down to kiss his lips. “Do you think your Lord misses you?” You asked jokingly.

“I think he is too drunk to notice.” He said smiling at you, “What about your Lady?”

“I think she was too involved in Joffrey to notice.” You said with a giggle.

“Sleep with me tonight?” You asked softly,

He nodded and he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

When you woke up, you were alone.

You felt a little betrayed but you knew he had duties.

Later that day you were ordered to check on Lord Tyrion’s injuries as the Maester was too busy to see to it himself.

When you knocked on the door to Tyrion's chambers Bronn answered the door, he eyed you up and down, making you roll your eyes.

“My Lord,” You said walking into Tyrion’s chambers, brushing past Bronn and avoiding his gaze.

“Ah, the bear girl.” Tyrion said,

“(Y/N) Mormont, my Lord.” Podrick attempted to correct him, which made Bronn huff and roll his eyes. But you smiled at him, and he smiled back.

“Yes, Podrick, I know her name. My family is holding her captive after all.”

You smirked at his admission, ‘How’re you feeling?” You asked as you sat a leather bag of medicines and supplies on a table.

“Oh quite pleasurable.” Tyrion said sarcastically,

You turned towards him, dropping your concerned demeanor “I need to know if it stings or itches, if it’s infected, it could spread to your eyes, you’ll go blind, it could spread to your sinuses which could make you go deaf, and if it spreads to your brain you’ll die."

“You’re a gentle flower aren’t you?”

“Always have been. The Flower of Bear Island they called me.” You said sarcastically with crossed arms, making Tyrion huff a chuckle, “Yes and now they call me bear girl and whore, so if you could be so kind and cooperate I can see to it that you don’t die.”

Podrick held back a smile at your strength.

“Alright, no burning, itching, or stinging. Satisfied?” Tyrion said as you sat beside him.

“Somewhat…” You said while examining the cut.

Podricks eyes were entranced by the way your eyes darted around the Lord's scar, how you examined it with such expertise. How your eyebrows narrowed and your lips pouted slightly when you focused intensely on something. How when you wrapped a new bandage around the Lord's face you bit on your bottom lip. As he stared at your lips he thought of your first kiss, how warm and soft your lips were, he thought of your sweet taste. He wanted to grab your face and do it all over again. He was so deep into his fantasy he hadn’t even noticed Tyrion had called his name twice.

Bronn smacked Podricks head, making him snap out of it as Tyrion repeated himself again.

“Pod, see Lady Mormont to her chambers.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Podrick nodded

“Oh I'm sure the lad would love that.” Bronn said as you and Podrick left the room.

Once the door to Tyrion's chamber was closed you turned to Podrick with narrowed eyes.

“You told them?” You asked with venom.

“No, no, no I wouldn’t.” He stammered, not wanting you to believe he would do such a thing to you, “I wouldn’t. I believe I am just not very good at concealing my… interest in you.” He said softly so no one would hear.

It made you smile.

“I am sorry I couldn’t stay, My Lady. This morning, I couldn’t stay, Lord Tyrion would have sent someone for me.” He said softly again.

“I told you, you can call me by my name.” You said not willing to say it was alright but not willing to say it wasn’t. “Did you forget it, Podrick?” You teased him

“No, no (Y/N)” He said your name with a smile.

“Good, I thought your interest in me had finally subsided.”

“I don’t think it could.”

It made you smile again, 'seven hells' you thought, falling for such things.

You looked around and saw no one in the hall, you pulled him into another kiss.

NOTE:sowwy this took so long, i wuv you!

TAG LIST: @ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart

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feyhunter78 · 1 month

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Chapter Three - Your father has taken notice of your blossoming interest in a certain dark-haired northerner.

Ch 4

“The boy is looking at you again.” Your father drawls, moving his elephant across the cyvasse board with disinterest.

You take a sip of your wine and hum in response, moving one of your trebuchets forward.

He clicks his tongue. “Bad move, little lion, that leaves me free to attack your king.”

You glance at the board and curse internally; you have been far too distracted by Jon’s barely subtle stares to properly play the game. “Perhaps I am simply letting you win, you are getting older, Father, it is only the kind thing to do.”

Your father raises an eyebrow and delivers his final move. “Ah yes, it is kindness that distracts you, not the strapping lad who seems he will burst into flames if he does not look at you every three seconds.”

You glance over at Jon, who swiftly turns his attention back to Arya, correcting her stance out in the training yard, the ground freshly cleared of snow.

You and your father have taken a seat on one of the benches within one of the entrances to the guest chambers that spills out into the yard. It’s the perfect mixture between the warmth inside and the crisp morning air outside.

“I have not the faintest idea what you speak of.” You say, popping a grape into your mouth and chewing slowly, trying to hide your smile from your father.

He sighs and shakes his head. “All those years spent teaching you to mask your emotions, to have the perfect expression that never reveals anything, gone with the simple presence of a dark-haired northern boy who does naught by train and brood.”

“He reads as well.” You say, unable to stop yourself from defending Jon.

“Oh, does he now? Someone send word to the Grand Maester, we have found his newest acolyte.” He snorts, taking a drink from his glass.

You wrinkle your nose in response. “You are quite humorous, Father, truly you could put the court fool out of a job.”

He sets his wine down and heaves a heavy sigh. “You know I only ever wish for your happiness.”

“Yes, it is why you are my favorite father in the whole continent.” You smile teasingly, pulling your cloak closer around you as the wind picks up.

“But he is a bastard—”

“You said all dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes, and yet you are still a man worth respect and titles.” You cut in, surprising even yourself with your outburst.

“Y/N.” Your father says sternly, laying his hands flat on the table.

You duck your head. “Sorry, Father.”

“He is a bastard, he cannot be your husband, a lover, or a guard, yes, but not a husband. If we were not Lannisters, if our house was not as it was, then perhaps it would be allowed. Gods know I do not wish to force you into a marriage you despise, but you are still a lady, still have the potential to win over great victories for our family.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning his words over in your mind. “Are you suggesting I proposition him, like Queen Rhaenyra did Ser Criston Cole?”

“I am not suggesting anything, I do not wish to think of my only daughter as a lady grown, but if you must follow Queen Rhaenyra’s footsteps…perhaps it is a Lord Harwin Strong you should seek instead.” His tone is careful, teetering the line between fatherly advice and the words of a Lannister.

You toy with the edges of your cloak. “Jon cares much for his honor, it would be shameful to even ask him such a thing.”

Your father’s hand covers your own. “That bleeding heart of yours, it comes straight from your mother.”

You smile. “And you, as well, do not downplay your kindness. An unkind father would have shipped me off to the richest man who asked for my hand the moment I first bled.”

He shivers in disgust at the thought.

Your eyes drift over to Jon and Arya, the latter who has been distracted by the appearance of Sansa and Joffrey.

“Perhaps a guard then, you could do worse than a guard you have grown alongside, it breeds loyalty.” Your father muses, watching how Jon shifts to put himself between Arya and Joffrey.

You cringe when Joffrey challenges Jon to a playful duel, ignoring your father’s words. “This will not go well.”

“Perhaps it will be good for your cousin’s ego to be beaten into the ground by someone he deems below him.”

You meet your father’s eyes and you both burst into laughter.

“Y/N, Uncle, stop laughing and come, all must witness this display of skill.” Joffrey calls, beckoning you both over.

“I cannot, Nephew, I must meet with your Uncle Jaime.” Your father calls back, hopping down from the bench.

“Father.” You hiss, silently begging him not to leave you with Joffrey.

He pats your hand. “You will be fine, stiff upper lip, little lion, remember?”

You groan and pout at him, but he shoos you forward.

Sansa crushes your hand as you watch Jon and Jeffrey spar, it’s clear Jon is holding back, you’ve seen him training, he puts more effort into hitting the dummies than he does attempt to hit Joffrey.

“Should you not cheer for your cousin?” Sansa asks.

The thought has never crossed your mind, and now it makes your stomach turn. “I would not want to break his concentration.” You say gracefully, trying to keep your eyes on the clashing swords and not Jon.

“Who cares?” Arya cheers, “Go Jon, knock him flat.”

Jon flashes her a smile, one born of confidence and the rush of near victory, and your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can imagine him competing in a tourney. His polished armor flashing in the sun, ripping his helmet off and letting it fall to the ground, his curls set free as he directs that smile towards you, the crown of roses in his hand naming you his Queen of Love and Beauty.

“Good work, My Prince, hit him hard.” Sansa cheers in direct opposition of her sister.

Joffrey turns towards Sansa, basking in her praise. A fatal mistake, his distraction allows Jon to knock him to the ground.

The action rips a gasp from you, not many aside from your Uncle Jaime would dare to knock Joffrey off his feet.

Your cousin lies there stunned, then he darts up, sputtering, his face turning red as he hurls insults at Jon, before storming off, Sansa jumping up to follow after him.

You catch her arm. “Lady Sansa, I would leave him to his solitude, my cousin is not fond of sharing in his embarrassment.”

Sansa looks as if she wishes to argue, but relents and turns to scold Arya for her cheering.

Jon’s gaze falls upon you, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, his eyes the color of a winter storm in the sunlight.

Perhaps a guard then. Your father’s words echo in your mind. You didn’t need to follow in Queen Rhaenyra’s footsteps, you could follow in Queen Alicent’s. Your maester had spoken of the pure and courtly bond between her and Ser Criston Cole when you were young, and you had been enraptured by the devotion Ser Cole had to his queen.

“Well done, Lord Jon.” You say, giving him a smile and a slight nod of your head as you take a step forward, then another until you are standing before him. Then you lean in, “though I would not have protested if you bruised his jaw when you knocked him flat.”

A slight smile tugs at Jon’s lips, and your eyes dart down to them.

He sucks in a breath, then takes a step back, putting more space between you, an overly appropriate amount of space. “Thank you, Lady Lannister.”

“Y/N, or if we must use titles, Lady y/n.”

Jon swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his pale throat. He has a nice throat, well-formed, pale with a smattering of dark stubble where it meets his chin. He must be freshly shaved, there’s a slight nick near his right ear.

You must get a hold of yourself, a nice throat? Y/N, you are shameful. You chastise yourself internally, tearing your eyes from him.

“As you wish, Lady y/n.” He whispers, his voice nearly stolen by the wind.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss

#meg's writing #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x oc #jon snow imagines #jon snow imagine #jon snow #lannister!reader #tyrion lannister #tyrion is such a good dad #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf #asoif fanfic

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sassypossumm · 16 days

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Masques

Thank you, @serpentqueenofwesteros for the request!!! I modified it a little, but I hope that you like it!

Tywin Lannister hates excess, but that's exactly what this masquerade represents, excess. But the times are strange indeed, even more so when the ever elusive Petyr Baelish shows up with a decadently dress mysterious lady on his arm...

Tywin stood in the corner, arms folded,watching the dancers in derision.

"Father!" Tyrion trot up to his father, face flushed and eyes shining, wine cup in hand. Tywin clenched his jaw and kept his eyes trained on the festivities. Tyrions gaze followed his father's and he narrowed his eyes. "Enjoying the festivities?" He again smiled brightly up at his father, clearly the wine was good, or Tyrion would have had thr presence of mind to trod more carefully with his taciturn father.

"A masque is an egregious waste of money." His tone was hard and flat, his words measured. Tyrion mumbled something good naturedly and laughed loudly as a lady clad in bright yellow grabbed his wrists and swept him off.

Amongst the masked party goers there were two staunch outliers, but for very different reasons. Tywin Lannister, and his son Jaime.

Tywin simply detested such a disgusting waste of money. Why should he bother with a ridiculously expensive set of silly clothes he'd only wear once? No, his usual court attire suited him just fine. Jaime's reasoning was simple enough, he was a king's guard. As such, he felt it was his place to set a standard, and so, watched the goings on with an alert eye.

And while Tyrion might not have noticed what his father had been so keenly focused on for the past hour, Jaime could help but take note.

Petyr Baelish, notorious bachelor, so seldom known to be publicly in the company of a woman that rumors had swirled of his 'apetites', had appeared with a lady on his arm. An lady expensively bedecked in an outrageously ornate blue costume.

Unlike most of the ladies who favored the fashion of half madks which left thr bottom half of their faces exposed, this one had worn the more traditional full faced mask.

That, however, wasn't what had caught Tywin's notice. He could honestly care less about the fineries and fripperies of the fair sex. No, what caught his interest was the fact that Littlefinger had seldom left the lady alone.

Oh. She certainly swirled past him enough times for him to become familiar with her throaty laughter wafting on the breeze, but for those brief dances with this minor lord or that, she stayed firmly by Lord Baelish's side.

And it didn't seem as though they were on the friendliest of terms.

"You've been staring all evening."

"It's not polite to sneak up on your aging father, Jaime." Tywin responded dryly, not sparing his son a glance. Jaime merely smirked and leaned closer to his father.

"Why don't you ask her to dance?"

"She's quite familiar with Baelish."

"So?" Jaime shrugged a shoulder. Tywin looked over at his son knowingly.

"So, only an fool would blindly walk into one of that spider's webs."

"But a very lovely web." Jaime whispered almost teasingly, nudging his father's shoulder. Tywin scoffed.

"More peacock than lady if you ask me." He muttered derisively. Yet, no sooner had the words left his mouth that his feet carried him towards Petyr Baelish and his masked companion, you.

"Ah, Lord Lannister, I don't believe you've met my-"

"My lady, might I have your hand for this turn?" Tywin held out his hand, cutting off Lord Baelish. Petyr Baelish's eyebrow ticked, but his features remained schooled as he was royally ignored by both you and Tywin.

"You may." Without a second glance at Lord Baelish, you lay your hand atop Tywin's and followed his lead out onto the floor. The music began, the dance a slower minuet that allowed for conversation.

"You've been the talk of the evening, my lady."

"Have I, my lord?"

"Entering the hall in the finery of a queen, and on the arm of a notorious man? It seems you intend to make a statement, my lady." Tywin considers you sharply, as you circle each other. You incline your head, but say nothing. "Just what statement that is... remains to be seen."

"As you say, my lord."

"It is said that the Westerosi may write the music, but that the Bravosi invented the art of dance."

"I see the Lord Lannister is well informed." You say lightly, your palm pressed against his as you make a turn on the floor. Tywin hummed.

"Though, I must say, my lady, you affect the Bravos accent very well for someone who was doubtlessly raised elsewhere."

"Oh?" You tilted your face up a little to meet his eyes. "And you have a keen ear, my lord, to have picked up on the discrepancy." His lips tilted up at the corner.

"Still, I am having trouble placing your native accent, my lady, mayhaps you might assist me?" You smirk, grateful for the mask thst covers your expressions.

"I am native to wherever pleases you, Lord Lannister. Pentos, Essos, Bravos, Dorne, take your pick my lord." Your tone is laced with a surety, the smug smile on your lips evident, despite the mask and dim lighting. Tywins eyes narrowed in thought, and his piercing gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

"I've seen your eyes once before, my lady, on another face." He said quietly. Your blood ran cold at the steel behind his gaze. "And those aren't eyes likely to be forgotten." His grip on your hand tightened, as he ground to a halt. "You've been long away, my lady, welcome home." He raised your hand to his lips, and his next words sent your heart dropping to your feet.

"Lady Mormont."

#tywin lannister x reader #tywin x reader #tywin lannister #Mormont!reader #tywin lannister fanfic #tyrion lannister #jaime lannister #house lannister #Tywin lannister x y/n #game of thrones fic #a song of ice and fire

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crownedtargaryen · 1 year

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Headcanons for Your First Time With Aemond, Aegon, Jacerys, Bran, Robb and Podrick

A/N : I’ve never written a headcanons post before so I have no real promises this will be any good. Please feel free to go to my ask box and recommend some ideas!

ALL NOTES (SHARES, LIKES, COMMENTS) ARE APPRECIATED!!

18+ NSFW content

Aegon

Without hesitation I can tell you this man is a switch

He would definitely start off harsh

He’d immediately go to tear your clothes off like you’re a whore h’s bought from a brothel

He looks at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat and he’s been starved for ages, absolutely craving every inch of your skin

You push him back and he’ll stare at you in shock, but then calm down

I’m assuming since you’re reading his you have a “i can fix him” mentality, so you’ve fixed him in this

he feels guilty at first, but you reassure him it’s alright and to be gentle, that you’ve never done this before

at you admitting he’s your first, he starts to rile up again, but is obviously swallowing it down

he’ll lift your dress and slip his hand beneath your undone corset, kissing over that fragile neck and leaving the filthiest bites on your skin

”You’re mine” he’ll demand against your earlobe “And I’ll make sure the whole castle knows that by the end of this.”

He’ll slip his fingers in, working your insides hesitantly. He’s not used to pleasuring someone else, more doing all this for his own pleasure

His movements are sloppy and reckless, but it feels good either way

It’s almost awkward, he stares at you at moments, trying to see if you’re feeling good

eventually you have to take charge of the situation, pushing him onto the sheets and working your way around his body

putting his dick in your mouth, watching as he whines and bucks his hips while panting like a dog in heat

you slip him in, your head tilting back. He mewls in pleasure, sitting up and guiding your hips, you stop him and tell him it hurts.

he listens, something you wouldn’t expect. You smile, petting his white hair and then locking lips with his, your bodies smothering each other as you ride him

you both are noisy, and he starts getting rougher with you, but you don’t seem to mind.

by the end of it all, he’s fucking you senseless until you’re on the verge of losing yourself, making a mess all over him as he does inside of you.

as for aftercare, he knows nothing of such. He merely gets up, wipes himself off, then lays with you and lets you cuddle close as he strokes your hair

honestly, the sex was good but he doesn’t seem to be educated enough. It’ll take a lot of it to get him perfect. ;)

Aemond

He’s a top and would NEVER let you overpower him

The entire experience is like a power trip, he tells you over and over that he owns you, and you believe it

but it took forever to even get him into bed

you’ve been set to wed for quite a while, but he’s so focused on the war and everything else that he won’t pay you ANY attention

and you HATE it

so, when the wedding comes around, you specifically request a bedding ceremony, which pleases his mother after some hesitation

at first he weirdly hesitates in touching you, instead he commands you strip in front of him.

as your corset and gown drop, a sly smile comes to his face as he licks his lips at the sight of your figure

he’ll move over and run his fingers down your stomach and to your lower lips, rubbing in a circle

where he learned this? God knows, but it feels so good you can’t dwell

your legs turn to jelly as he slowly strips himself from his garb, smacking your hand away when you attempt to assist

he’ll lower you on the bed with one arm, kissing down your collar bone and chest, licking over your nipples

”You’re gorgeous,” he’ll whisper in a deep and lustful voice. “All of this is mine.”

he’ll then push inside you without warning, stilling and looking into your eyes forcefully, his eye patch still on

”Isn’t that right.” He’ll growl, thrusting unto you with slow and rough smacks of his waist to your inner thigh

”Come on, baby” he’ll coo, holding your hands down and smiling so sly

”say it.”

you swallow hard then can’t utter any words, it feels amazing, like you were made for this very moment

he slows to a stop and chuckles at your whimpers, shuffling ur hips

”Say. It.”

“I’m yours” you’ll whimper, his smile growing. “I’m yours and yours alone, Aemond.”

You reach up to take his eyepatch off and he flinches, catching you off guard

”I don’t want to scare you,” he suddenly says, making you flush and smile.

”You’re perfect, a scar couldn’t scare me.”

He hesitantly let’s you take off the patch, his sapphire eye now visible. You hold his face and kiss the scar, feeling him twitch inside you at such a gesture.

He starts moving in and out, panting and letting out low grunts but not loud enough for it to trail outside of the room

He’ll grow into a pounding, enjoying pulling your hair and flipping you around like you’re a play thing

He’d degrade you, mixing them with praises and leave red hand prints from smacking your ass and thighs

He’d go for about 2-3 rounds before finishing up inside, and making sure you finished as well.

He’ll then clean you up with extra cloth and even give your cunt a few licks, then kiss you and make you taste both of your juices and the love you made.

then, he’ll arrange a bath and take it with you, not caring to clean up the mess on the sheets, urging a servant to do it for him as he holds you close in the water and says nothing

just rubbing your thigh and kissing over your shoulder with relaxed breathing as you wash his hair and face with peppered kisses between each other

Jacerys

A top. For sure.

he definitely likes to take control after you think you are, another power trip but much gentler

hes also like Aemond with he doesn’t do anything sexual until the bedding ceremony

but not because he’s too busy for you, oh no he’s made SO much time for you

he just has fun doing romantics rather than sexual things with you

every day is a new adventure, you almost forget your desires

but once the bedding ceremony starts, he’s got his hands on you in ways you didn’t think were possible

of course, he starts off slow, taking you from your garb without any haste

he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but doesn’t seem all that interested in your body

no, he loves that pretty face of yours

he loves the expressions it makes, the noises that come out of those beautiful parted lips

he loves it with so much of his being that he’ll do anything to see those faces

so, he picks you up with a heated kiss and places you against the wall, looking to you eagerly as his kisses trail down. He keeps you up with just those strong arms on your legs

he loves how surprised you get when he places your thighs on his shoulders

oh he definitely knows his way with his tongue too

he’ll know all the right places, looking up to you as his tongue dances on your cunt and inside

he smiles, you can feel it in those lower lips of yours, when you tilt your head back and say his name

he LOVES it when you say his full name

not Jace, but Jacerys

he removes himself just before you can finish, kissing you and making you taste yourself on his tongue

he’ll place you on the bed so gently, his hands feeling over your waist and a giddy grin spread on his face

”You’re all mine,” he’ll whisper, raising a brow. “I want you to remember that. My wife, the barer of my beautiful children.”

unlike Aemond, he sticks to praises and loving terms

”Love” “Beautiful” “Pretty” “My goddess”

and you definitely feel like a goddess

he doesn’t insert just yet, rubbing it on the base of your lower lips and slit

he teases you, but not in painful way

you softly beg him

he loves it, he loves when you speak. Your voice is like honey to him, he wants to eat it up and drown in that beautiful tongue of yours

”Since you asked so nicely, Princess” he’d tease, shoving inside of you before running still and gentle

he def moves his hand down to work the clit. No questions asked.

he’ll kiss you only a few times, not wanting to silence you

he’d work you well. Slow at first, then a steady rhythm. Not too fast, but not insanely slow

he’d leave marks on your chest, in places only he can see

and when you’re done, he’d bury deep inside and let it out

as for aftercare, he’d pick you up once he’s recovered and whisper about how amazing you did

he’d clean you up and see to it you’re bathed. He doesn’t mind being sweaty and heated, so he doesn’t get in the bath with you

no, he instead bathes you like a servant

he’s so gentle with his touch, it almost feels ludicrous

then, he dries you off and takes one last moment to admire your beauty

then, he dresses you. He doesn’t let you do it yourself

he has trouble with it at first, even if it’s just a night garb

But once he’s got you clothed, he’ll take you back to the bedroom and get the sheets changed before holding you close and drifting to sleep after you

Podrick

hear me out, a soft switch

he LIVES to please you

Definitely has mommy issues and a mommy kink

since he isn’t of royalty he’d probably act on his desires when you show interest

he’d definitely only do it when you want to, but that doesn’t stop his tempting gaze

he finds you gorgeous, eyeing you down and smirking slightly to himself as he thinks the nastiest thoughts of you

and oh you love it. So much.

When you finally admit your desires, he’ll ask if he can kiss you

he seems shy at first, gentle with his hands and movements

then, you show eagerness and desire. It drives him crazy

he’ll open your legs and work your cunt with his tongue

he loves. LOVES. When you scream and shake

he’ll pet your thighs and pump his tongue in and out at a steady pace while sucking on your folds and clit

he’d have to hold your legs down as you cum in his mouth, and he loves it

he’d try to get up and leave for a moment, but you stop him and plead for him to lose himself with you

he’s SO hesitant, but then strips from his clothes and gets on top of you

as he’s on top of you he’d softly go “Are you sure?” And wait patiently for your consent

when given, he’ll push in, and the sigh he lets out as his eyes roll back is mesmerizing

he’ll bite his lip, hard, and move slowly in and out, groaning and looking in your eyes, loving the sight of you

your faltering expression gives him confidence as he presses his hand on your clit and works it as he quickens his pace, making you roll your eyes back as well

he’d be too nervous to kiss you, just working you like he’s don’t this a million times over.

he’d cradle you after he busts outside, and finger you until you softly plea him to stop.

he’ll wipe you off and clean himself off, not thinking of bathing, just holding you close and not wanting to lose this moment.

he’ll leave soft marks on your shoulders and chest, obsessed with your breasts, and admire you with so much love

”I love you” he’ll whisper “I hope I can marry you soon.”

Bran

A bottom. I will not take criticism.

he doesn’t know where the clit is, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing. He’s just too inexperienced

When you first present the idea of exploration into sexual territory, he’s hesitant

he’ll look at you with a “me? You want to try with ME?”

When you insist that you want him, he’d flush and kind of pull away

when you ask why he’s so scared, he tells you “I’ve never tried anything like that before.” And then look at you, so lovingly and worrisome “I’m not even sure if *it* works.”

his eyes will widen when you say “There’s only one way to find out.” And he nods then verbalizes consent to trying.

He’s shaking as you help him lay comfortably on the bed, his eyes trailing you. He loves when you tease him.

you sit on his lap and roll your hips as your garb is stripped, and he eagerly reaches for you, but you stop him. He obeys, looking at you with pleading and innocent eyes

his eyes start on only your face, then his thoughts best him. He looks lower, eyeing your chest and sighing, a new hardness under his clothes. Then lower, and he lets out what almost sounds like a pitiful whimper

you’re flushed at his reactions, taking his hand as his gaze snaps to your face with a guilty look. You move his hand and guide it to your clit, where his breath hitches at the wetness below.

”Rub in circles, Bran,” you’ll whisper, watching as he swallows hard and licks his lips as he works you insanely well, surprising you. You whine and moan softly, his eyes blowing wide and his cheeks blood red.

he LOVVVES your noises holy shit

and he adores the way your breasts bounce as he pleases you

he would be fine doing this and only this the entire time, but is surprised when you move his fingers to your entrance and adjust them, then push them in.

he keeps them still, then you guide them in and out, his eyes going to your face as you sigh and groan. He moves faster, picking up the movement amazingly.

As you strip him from his clothes, he looks adorable while he’s flustered. Shuffling and eyeing your chest once more then your face.

he does NOT know where to look

you’ll reveal his cock, and it’s big. Much bigger than you expected on a man, it’s stands up straight and eager, twitching slightly. He looks HUMILIATED.

you reassure him, moving to his side and holding his head to your chest, he kisses over your breasts and groans, moving and licking over your nipples. He LOVVVVES this.

you jerk him off, seeing if he feels it. And oh he definitely does.

he grabs you, shuffling and moaning under his breath, it almost doesn’t make you wanna stop

but you steady to a stop and ride him, his eyes rolling back and his breathing heavy and uneven. He holds your waist, moaning your name over and over as you hold his arms and tilt your head back. He sits up all the way and kisses you

he loves how your lips taste, groaning against your mouth and even moving into a sloppy make out to muffle his pathetic whimpers.

he softly tells you he thinks he’s about to burst from the inside and you tell him it’s you being close to cumming. He doesn’t even think about it and without warning bursts inside of you.

hes definitely apologetic after the high wears down, but you shush him and cuddle close, not caring about a cleanup. You just want to be close to him, and he wants the same.

Robb

He’s a hard read, but I feel like he’d top you after being a bit unsure about his place in the bedroom

he’d definitely know where the clit is. I take no criticism.

he’d do it whenever you seem to show a lot of interest in it, and would sacrifice anything to keep you as his

he starts off slow, getting excited at just the sight of the garb sliding down your shoulders

his eyes are EVERYWHERE. At first, your face, in need to feel like he isn’t disrespecting you somehow, but once he sees your body he’s done for

he loves when you pull his hair, especially when you kiss him.

he’d finger you until you can’t function, smiling so wide at just the sight of your desires

he’d never push you into anything, just kissing down your body and leaving love bites all along your skin

he’s OBSESSED with the way your body follows his hands, and how you lean into him with such desire

he’s definitely a doggy style type of boy

dont get me wrong, he LOVES looking at your expressions, but he loves pulling your hair and seeing the way your back arches

he’d start off slow, rolling his hips in a gentle and easy rhythm, but when it’s not enough for you he hastily pounds you into the bed

he’ll bite. 100% he bites you and will whisper “Such a good girl, my pretty little thing… You’re all mine.” And would grip your ass, groaning softly in your ear

no hesitation or apologies, he cums inside and ENSURES you’re over your limit before he’s done

he’d take such good care of you. Washing you off, kissing the sore spots, massaging you, he’d even offer to give you some… “after treatment” with his mouth ;)

def eats you out after too, after he washes you off he goes for another round but only for your pleasure, letting your ride his face

he’ll then wipe you down and pepper you with kisses, dressing you and refusing to let you help

he’d then cuddle you so close, promising to love you forever and that he’d never let anyone hurt you, refusing to sleep until you’re sound asleep and he knows you’re safe.

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john-get-the-salt · 9 months

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Third Times A Charm (w/tyrion lannister)

Imagine: Two times Tyrion realized he was falling in love with you, and then the third time when he finally did something about it.

Contains: cute Tyrion moments, use of she/her pronouns, fem!reader, Bronn totally shipping his two besties, brief mentions of rated R activities but no actual acts, some lyrics from High Enough by K.Flay because i think they fit the way Tyrion would love so well

Warnings: none

Tyrion wasn't sure exactly when he began falling in love with you. There were plenty of instances that he longed for you, but he couldn't be sure when that feeling began.

Could it have begun that night you drank too much ale and accidentally shared some of your deepest secrets?

Tyrion and Bronn were hiding away from the world and drinking together, as they did any other night, when a knock at the door to Tyrion's chambers interrupted them.

"Yeeeees?" Tyrion called out. The door to his chambers creaked open and a familiar face popped in.

"I was walking past and couldn't help but overhear the two of you. Are you having fun without me?"

The men grinned at you.

As the daughter of a distant lord you'd been sent on your families behalf to King's Landing a few weeks ago to mend your people's relationship with the iron throne and according to your father, find a wealthy husband. Despite Tyrion's reputation you'd inexplicably befriended the man and his guard. Before long they were the few people in King's Landing that you trusted fully and vice versa.

"My lady!" Tyrion cheered.

You closed the door and plopped down at the table across from the two.

"Come on you two, share the goods."

They obeyed, opening a bottle and pouring out another glass of precious liquid. You took a hearty gulp, sighing as the liquid warmed your belly. "That's better. I'll tell you this, politics would be much more fun if everyone drank beforehand."

Bronn laughed. "That's what I've always said. Lads would start less wars if they had an ale in hand."

"And perhaps they would perform better....both on the battlefield and off!"

Tyrion shook his head fondly as he watched you and his guard giggle. He was so used to Bronn being a stubborn headed mule, but he treated you like a younger sister and you brought out the child in him.

Bronn wiped tears out of his eyes at his laughter died down. "And that's my cue, lass. Once I start laughing at your ridiculous jokes I know I've had too much to drink."

"Aw, but I've just started!"

"And I'm sure Tyrion would love nothin more than to continue drinking with you, my lady." He winked at the Lord, who was by then glaring at his guard. "But I take my leave." And with a nod goodbye Bronn was gone.

And then there were two. Lord Tyrion and yourself fell into easy conversation, swapping tales and laughing at each other's past misfortunes. He told you about the time he woke up hungover in a barn alongside goats and you told him of the time you accidentally started a fire after attempting to learn how to cook.

The night drew on, alcohol sipped and chugged down, and you two grew more and more inebriated. By time the alcohol was gone it was the middle of the night, and you were both lying on your backs on the floor rambling on about everything and nothing.

"Tyrion?" You asked at one point.

"My lady?”

"What would your dream life look like?"

"Do you not dream enough?"

You knocked his shoulder with yours, unable to withhold a giggle. "That's not what I mean, you buffoon. I mean if you could live anywhere, do whatever you wanted, what would you do?"

"That is a terribly deep question for a couple of intoxicated fools. What would you do?"

A sigh left your lips as your giggly mood slipped away. "I would live in the mountains, near the ocean. I'd tend to my garden and write and learn how to wield a bow and arrow. I'd set traps in the water and feast on seafood and fresh bread every night. And I'd have a husband who loved me even when I didn't love myself."

"Any children?"

You scrunched your nose. "No children. I mean, maybe one day, if my husband wanted. But I think I could be quite content with my world."

Tyrion was quiet as he thought about the question.

"I'd live somewhere far, far, away from Kings Landing. Far away from everybody, really. No neighbors. I would read every book I could get my hands on, sitting in a window where the sunlight hit just right. Not too far from the sea, so I could go feel the ocean breeze when I desired. And I would have my own apple trees, so I could make my own cider.

"That sounds nice," you murmured, eyelids beginning to droop. "I think I'll just sleep on your floor tonight, Ty. I'm much too tired to return to my own chambers."

"Here," he reached out a hand, pulling the blankets from of his bed and onto the floor. "We can at least stay warm."

Humming in thanks, you allowed yourself to be swathed in the warm furs. You curled closer to your friend, who always seemed to be radiating heat.

"Maybe in our dream lives we could neighbors." You whispered into the air as you began to fall asleep.

Tyrion smiled softly as he too began to succumb to the warmth inviting him to rest.

"Indeed."

•

If that hadn't been the time he began falling, was it when you saw right through the facade that fooled everyone else?

•

Tyrion sat amongst the lords and ladies, nursing a goblet of wine. The only reason he was allowed at these events was his family connections. No one discussed battle strategy, no one asked him to dance, and no one would even dare to attempt small talk.

And the prince was fine with that. That was what he always said, wasn't it? When faced with his harsh reality he would grin and snark and insist that he wouldn't be able to stand it even if someone tried. His sharp mouth protected his soft heart. And no one knew.

Tyrion caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, turning to see the only person stupid enough to approach him at a time like this. You.

"You foolish woman," Tyrion muttered as you settled at his side, your own cup in hand.

"I'm not going to deny it, but what have I done now?" Your voice came out smooth, the accent of silk brought out by the alcohol you'd no doubt been consuming.

"Your father told you to find a husband, and here you are during your best chance of that sitting with the pitiful dwarf."

He wasn't wrong. If you had any desire to find an advantageous match this was the time, as the King hosted lords from all across the continent. However, you had no such desire.

"I don't appreciate your lamenting tone. You know I care not for my father's wishes, I would much rather sit with my friend. These people are cruel to you, and thus I do not care for any of them.

"You know I care not what these people think of me, my lady. It no longer bothers me."

Yet even as Tyrion said that he could feel eyes on the two of you as you conversed, sharp as daggers.

"The world is a curse, Tyrion. It'll kill if you let it."

Tyrion turned to look at you. Your kept your gaze forward, eyes drinking in everything you could.

"Don't let it kill you."

•

Were either of those times the start? Tyrion couldn't be sure. But what he could be sure of, was the moment that he knew he needed to do something about it.

•

Of all your family, it was your younger sister who insisted you come home for an extended visit. She knew you planned to be at King's Landing for a long while but she missed you. More than that your father had allegedly began harping on her to find a husband the moment you left, and you couldn't stomach that. She was too young to worry of such things.

You obliged, after getting King Joffrey's blessing. You could not stand that petulant child, but all you had to do was bat your eyes and he usually allowed you to do as you wished. It helped that you tended to stay out of his way.

So for a few weeks you reunited with your family and homeland. Father was upset you hadn't managed to find a 'high ranking husband' but you were happy enough that he didn't press the issue. You told of the immature new king, dishing all the gossip of King's Landing. Your younger sisters, who'd never let the comforts of home, absorbed it all with childish wonder.

It was a comforting trip, but you found yourself missing King's Landing and a select few of it's inhabitants. You were quite relieved when it was time again to return.

The throne room was full, in the middle of a day court, when the thick heavy doors swung open. A front guardsman apologized for the interruption before announcing your official return. You stepped into the room with your spine straight as a pin and head held high, accompanied by your guards.

The corset you wore tightly gave the illusion of a perfect hourglass and did wonders for your bust, no doubt noticed by the King as he gave you a disgusting grin. You knew everyone's eyes were on you. Your father raised you to know that if you presented yourself as if you belonged, others wouldn't question it. It was how you moved unnoticed, how you infiltrated royalty when in reality you had no business in it. It was how you survived.

However this time there was an added, unexpected reaction. Unlike the first time you arrived in King's Landing, Tyrion was now witness to your official entry.

The moment you stepped through the doors his eyes were glued to your form. The lord wasn't used to seeing you this way. He was used to pants and tunics while practicing swordsmanship, riding boots while flying around on horses, tight buns and loose jackets as you chased after Bronn.

He already thought you beautiful, even when wearing tough leather and shaking dust from your hair. But wrapped in silks and diamonds you looked dangerously divine, like the gods themselves had blessed you.

You fit right in, Tyrion thought as you approached the King. You could easily be a member of royalty, a high lady, a queen. And when your eyes glided over to meet his, the way you shifted, the Prince had to raise his fist and bite into it for fear he would say something crass.

You stopped in front of the Iron Throne, bowing your head. "My grace, I thank you for your kindness in allowing me to return to your castle."

The child grinned, staring unashamedly at your body. "Of course, a creature as gorgeous as you is welcome to come and go as much as she pleases. Have a good time with daddy, did you?"

You nodded, keeping your face neutral. "Yes your grace. My father sends his love and support for your rule on the iron throne."

Joffrey preened. "Good. You may be dismissed."

"Thank you your grace." You bowed your head once more, and as you turned to leave you paused to face Tyrion. His gaze was still glued to you.

"My lord," you said softly, bowing deeply before rising and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Murmurs broke throughout the room, the people shocked that anyone dare acknowledge the dwarf in the presence of the king, but before anyone object you picked up your skirts and glided out of the throne room. As the doors closed and you made your way to your old chambers you could hear nothing but the beating of your own heart. Tyrion had been staring at you with such fervor, such awe....it made your skin prickle.

You reached your chambers and with shaky hands let yourself in. However when you attempted to close the door behind you it stuck, and someone forced their way in before slamming it behind them.

You teetered on your heels, falling back onto your bed with an oof. Eyes wide and blinking in surprise, you stared at Lord Tyrion as he now stood in your chambers. It was utterly silent as he walked over to the bed where you sat still as a statue. He stopped just in front of you, only a breaths width away.

"You bow to me, in front of the king and his people, in that dress and then expect to vanish." He paused for long enough to take a shuddering breath. "Had I no self control I would have taken you right there the moment you rose," he finally whispered.

Your lips parted, eyes measuring his expression before meeting his gaze.

"And how’s your self control now....my lord?"

•

Tyrion chuckled to himself at the memory. That was a long night, and the official beginning of this angelic new life.

"Humoring yourself, my love?"

Speaking of angels...the lord turned to watch as you approached him. For his entire life before you, he was fighting. Fighting for his place in the world, fighting to be inspired. For what was life without inspiration, without reason, without drive? He used to like liquor to get him inspired, but you were his new supplier.

Tyrion held out his hand and you wordlessly took it as you joined him in overlooking the gardens.

"Just reminiscing on the times we're shared, my dear. I was trying to decide when exactly I began falling in love with you, but for the life of me I can not seem to narrow it down."

You smiled sweetly. "I know the exact moment I began falling in love with you."

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue.

Instead you shook your head. "That's for me to cherish, and for you to ponder."

The lord tsked. "I'll get you to tell me, mark my words."

You cheeks warmed as you gazed at him. "I'm sure you will....eventually."

Tyrion chuckled before he raised your hand in his, kissing your knuckles softly.

"I'm in no rush, my dear. After all-we have forever."

#tyrion lannister #game of thrones #got #tyrion #tyrion x reader #tyrion imagine #tyrion lannister imagine #fanfic #drabble #x reader #x reader imagine #fanfiction

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lovedandliving · 8 months

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the lack of x reader fics in the GOT fandom is horrible 😔

#fanfic #game of thrones #got #hotd #daenerys targaryen #littlefinger #petyr baelish #bran stark #joffrey baratheon #robb stark #petyr littlefinger baelish #ned stark #arya stark #tywin lannister #tyrion lannister #jamie lannister #x reader #self insert

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sugarprincessbitch · 4 months

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Hi! I saw that you are open for solicitations, so…. How about yandere! Tyrion who is in love with Reader? She is just so sweet and kind, she doesn't understand much about politics, but she makes her effort. She is (unfortunately) engaged against her will to a nasty lord, what would Tyrion do? Headcannons, please

WARNING: Mentions of Yandere aspects, manipulation, death and killing

It was another boring day at court on the Red Keep, Tyrion had taken the place deceased Ned Stark had taken as the hand of the King...this king being his stupid nephew Joffrey. He was with the other advisors hearing Cersie ranting demands like always and dear Joffrey making additions to his mother's no senses.

Tyrion was like always, drowning in his cup of wine, trying to zone out his sister's annoying high pitch voice. He decided to observe the people in the room, he saw the same long and boring faces of the lords, but when he put his piercing gaze on Cersie direction...he saw a young maiden standing uncomfortable behind the Queen, he had never seen her before or never cared too much to notice. She peaked his attention...he had seen young noble maidens flocking around his sister, but the difference is how she didn't recoil while looking at his horrible face or his odd short limbs.

...

It is a matter well known that Tyrion is terrible at anything that matters the problems of the heart...we know from the books and the series, mostly the books, that he had troublesome relationships with women in his life. He tends to be naturally possessive and protective of the woman he holds affection for, so if he was a Yandere...he will be a dangerous one.

He can seem calm and collected on the exterior, but he is an animal waiting to snap, for something he is the son of Tywin Lannister. Tyrion will appeal to be passive aggressive to a possible threat for his darling affection, or even recurring to send men to kill them, but only if this person is a minor lord or a commoner.

Tyrion doesn't have to his advantage beauty or natural charm to attract his darling, but he has his cunning mind...that will help manipulating her. I think he will guilt trip her, using his disability at favour.

If his darling was not a noble lady, he will try to use his power and financial position to charm her, if the first doesn't work then he will threaten her with it. He may be a mockery in his family, but he still has the Lannister blood running from his veins and their money in his pockets.

But we will suppose that the darling is a noble lady of a not such an important house, then he will have complications at the time of having her in his grasp fully. Because there are norms on how a lady has to handle themselves and also a social expectation of courting and marriage, he will not only have to gain his darling affection but also the favour of her father.

It will be more troublesome if her darling is engaged with another Lord, this will send him to a furious pit and he will start to plan the downfall of the poor bastard that decided to get on his way.

Tyrion will probably try to coerce his darling father to change his mind and choose him as a possible bachelor, maybe he is a dwarf, but he comes from an important house and also he is currently in a very prestigious position, the hand of the king.

If this doesn't work (that I think it will probably go this way) he will convince his darling that he is better than an old hag, he will treat her kindly and with the utmost respect. Also, he will start courting his darling and showering her in costly jewelry and refined dresses.

When he finally has her on his grasp, convinced that he is the better suitor for her and not his future husband, he will fall upon his "enemy" with everything he has. Clearly, sending his men to kill silently that Old lord his darling was engaged with, claiming that it died from his frail and old age, natural causes.

The sudden death of his darling suitor and the pressure he will put not only financially but also using his position on the court so your lord father has no other option than to marry you to him.

Now, he finally has you for himself... And you know what they say, the preserverants win at the end.

#asioaf books #asioaf #fanfic #game of thrones #ice and fire books #house lannister #tyrion lannister #tyrion lannister x reader #thanks for the ask!#yandere game of thrones #yandere x reader #game of thrones universe

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chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct · 2 months

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What Abigail wore to Tyrion & Sansa's wedding

How much slaying is too much slaying when at someone else's wedding in ASOIAF? /G (no pun intended) I toned it down a bit but I am curious 🙃

I don't have an excerpt for this but I feel like a good summary would be "When your father marries your forced proximity bestie and only three people are happy about it"

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countrymusiclover · 2 months

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The Last Velaryon

Haelesa is the last daughter of the Velaryon tree, and her house is in danger of dying out. So her father decides to convince Tywin to make her and Jaime wed. Yet when she rides North with the royal family, she can't help but fall for the young wolf Robb Stark.

1 - The Arrangement

2 - Swords and Winterfell

3 - The Feast pt 1

4 - The Feast pt 2

5 - The Wedding I Didn’t Choose

6 - Revealing Letters

7 - The Waring Battlefield

8 - The Truth of Jaime Lannister

9 - The Language of Desire

10 -

???

Comments / reblogged thoughts really appreciated ❤️

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

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damn-stark · 1 year

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Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

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

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

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

*JON*

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

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

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

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

*LATER. YOU*

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

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

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

Where did they bring you?

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

What’s her plan with you?

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

There’s no answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

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

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

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

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

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

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The babies?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

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

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just for a second…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me have a—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

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

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

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

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

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

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

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They better be in there though.

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

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

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That makes killing him much easier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

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

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

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

——

*LATER*

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

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

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

“Halt right there!”

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

“It’s okay—”

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

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

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

However, neither of them rise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

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

“Good,” you comment.

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

She was injured?

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunspear?” She queries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not mine,” you mirror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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