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catsteeth · 6 months

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The Caged Bird and The Leased Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 3 ✿:+ Tear Drop

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem reader, oral sex (fem rec), mutual masturbation, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of death, mention of arranged marriage.

Word Count: 4826

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The morning after your last encounter with the Hound in the stables you were woken up by two handmaidens. They dressed you in a gown Cersei had made for you, it was red and gold, embellished with intricate beaded flowers. No matter how many times you asked they wouldn’t tell you why you were being summoned by Cersei.

Your paranoia grew as you walked down the halls. You were more paranoid than ever nowadays.

As you walked into Cersei's chambers, her handmaidens closed the doors behind you.

“Hello, little dove.” She said standing on her balcony. You walked towards her, your hands fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

“Your grace, thank you for the gown, it is beautiful.” You tried your best to seem relaxed.

“Ah yes, red and gold. Those colors suit you well. That’s good, they will need to.” She said, stepping towards you, playing with a strand of your hair.

“Your grace?” You asked,

“Tell me, have you met my brother?” She asked softly and gently.

“Which-”

“Tyrion, Tyrion Lannister, have you met him?” She cut you off, dropping the piece of hair she played with and sounding suddenly sterner.

“Only passing pleasantries and exchanges, your grace.” You felt your heart race, your palms sweat.

“What do you think of him?” she narrowed her eyes “He has quite a reputation, and his physical appearance does not help it-”

“He’s been nothing but decent to my family and myself, your grace.” You interrupted hoping she would get to the point faster.

“Good, good. That’ll make things easier.” She forced a sympathetic smile.

“Your grace,” Your eyes fluttered. your voice wavered, and your heart raced faster.

“You have been matched. It is the King's will, and you two shall be wed.” She pet your hair softly.

Your throat went dry and you could help but look taken aback.

“I don’t understand,” Your voice cracked and you took a step back.

“You’ll get used to it.” She nodded, “My brother and I don’t have the best relationship but he is gentle with women. He will serve as a good husband. He will give you a child, that’s the best thing a man can give you. Perhaps we can negotiate with Baelish to keep your titles now that he’s betrothed to your mother.”

You didn’t care to correct her that she was your step mother. You stood there with your eyes wide, you didn’t know what to say. You’d found out two devastating truths in one moment. You’d possibly no longer inherit your fathers titles, and you’d be forced into the family that killed your own.

“Don’t you think?” Cersei asserted trying to gain your attention again not so subtly.

“Yes, yes Your Grace.” You faked a smile.

These people killed your uncle no less than a week ago, you had no choice but to accept. It wasn’t even framed as an option. They only wanted to calm you and make you agreeable, so you gave it to them. You didn’t have options.

You did what Sandor would have told you to do. You agreed, and smiled. You gave them what they wanted.

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Your chambers were small in comparison to Cersei’s. It was a constant reminder that you were not home. The sheets were red with golden lions and flowers embroidered into them. The walls are adorned with golden decorations. It was beautiful but nothing like your home, nothing like your room. You couldn’t imagine it, “(Y/N) Lannister '' it didn’t seem right. You are a girl of the vale in the lion's den.

The prospect of marriage became very real, and very near. Tyrion was the best of them, there was no doubt in that fact. However you didn’t even accept Loras’s proposal so why would you accept Tyrion's. But it would seem, you'd have no choice now, neither did Tyrion.

You thought of him every day, and every night. You would find yourself awake at such late hours they weren’t late anymore they were early. You’d dream of his hands, his broad shoulders, his sad eyes framed by a scowling face. You’d feel yourself pulse and you’d be forced to relieve yourself on your pillows or sometimes your hand to feel any kind of relief. You’d wonder if he had done the same, never knowing but he had. As you found yourself beginning to feel that same pressure in between your legs there was a knock upon your door.

“Who is it?” You beckoned, you were more paranoid than ever nowadays, Cersei’s speech just hours before your uncles execution didn't help.

“Your betrothed it would seem.” Tyrion beckoned back. You rolled your eyes and sighed, slightly hoping for Sandor, and not whatever awkward conversation was about to be held.

As you opened the door you gave a half hearted smile, “My Lord.” You greeted me.

He scrunched up his face and waved his hand in dismissal “No need for that, Tyrion is fine, my lady.” He smiled.

“Then enough ‘my lady’, (Y/N) is fine.” You said smiling back, this time more genuine, “Is there something I can help you with, my-” You stopped yourself and corrected “Tyrion.”

“I hoped we could discuss our arrangement.” He said as if he felt guilty. His eyes were kind, soft and gentle.

You nodded in agreement, however you didn’t know what much else was to be said. You began to step into the hall when he held his hand out to you. You were caught somewhat off guard by such a gentle act, you flinched, and it didn’t go unnoticed. You did however take his hand.

He led you to a secluded chamber. There were books strone about, this is the same room where you had stolen the first book of his. As you sat as he poured himself a goblet of wine, he motioned if you’d want some and you shook your head.

“This is awkward,” He said with a forced smile as he sat with his goblet.

“For you, I’d imagine so.” You said with a huff as you crossed your legs and your arms,

“It isn’t for you? Speaking to the man you are being forced to marry?” He said with a chuckle.

“Awkward or not, given what I have endured here, speaking with you is the least painful thing that has afflicted me.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He said with a furrowed brow. He made you crack a slight smile.

“Is there something you wished to discuss?” You asked shifting in your seat uncomfortably waiting for him to get to the point.

“Ah” He said as he placed his goblet down, his brain snapping back to the original intent of this meeting. “Well, my Lady-”

“(Y/N)” You corrected unapologetically,

“(Y/N)” He smiled softly, “We are to be wed.” You nodded, in agreement, your face however was still stoic. “I want you to know, I did not want this.” “Well” You inhaled sharply “I did not either. Though I hope I did not disappoint you.” You said with that signature venom in your eyes. You knew in a way that he didn’t mean it in that way, but you never passed up an opportunity to show that you weren’t one to shy from confrontation.

“I did not- You did not.” He stammered and stopped himself. He looked down collecting his thoughts, “I am not disappointed in you. But I believe someone you love should take your hand.” He said with a half hearted smile.

“May I ask you something?” You asked shifting in your seat to lean closer to him. “My father, Lord Arryn. When he brought me here, he brought me here with the intention of marrying me off. My father was not one to go into anything blind. I know he had discussed it, I know he had certain men in mind. Tell me who those men were.”

“You don’t believe he picked me?” He chuckled before seeing your still serious face and continuing, “Your father did consider Ser Loras Tyrell, Renly Baratheon, before his marriage of course. I am sure those would have good matches, though I do believe you might be missing some of those men's favorite parts.” You wanted to laugh but didn’t want to lighten the situation, so you settled for a smirk as you looked away hiding your amusement. “Your father did not want you to wed Joffrey.” His joking tone diminished “Baelish requested consideration, which was denied. Your father clearly cared for your honor.” Your eyes went back to him. You thought of it, Baelish requesting your hand? It seemed strange as you never met the man. “I am sure there were many others who requested your hand.”, He smiled softly.

“But not you?” You grinned

“I would not have embarrassed either of us like that,” He said, sipping from his goblet.

“Embarrassed?” “I would not embarrass you by being wed to a dwarf, and I’d not embarrass myself by being rejected by both you and your father.”

“Peytr Baelish didn’t seem to mind.” You jested, and he cracked a smile. “I don’t care about your height.” You scoffed, “You’ve been nothing but decent towards me and my family.”

“But if I proposed you wouldn’t have accepted.” “No I wouldn’t have.” He nodded “But that’s not because of your height. Or even your reputation. It’s because I don’t know you. Other than the few books of yours I have stolen and the passing exchanges between you, my family, and myself I do not know you.”

“Well we’ve all the time we need to know each other now.” He smirked, “You’ve stolen my books?”

“Four, maybe five.” You responded quickly “Things get awfully dull around here.”

“I suppose they will be our books soon enough.” He tried to jest, “I think I know something about you now. You’re honest, opinionated-” You stopped him

“The king does not like those traits of mine, it would seem.” You said slightly smiling.

“No doubt why he created his engagement... What my nephew has done to your cousin,” He stopped himself and looked at your lip, still slightly bruised from Joffrey’s Name Day. “What he has done to you… it is-” He stammered, unable to find an appropriate word for it, “deplorable.”

“I suppose he will be my nephew as well, soon enough.” You attempted to jest,

“(Y/N),” he said leaning forward, grasping your hand lightly “I promise you- I swear to you, no harm shall come to you.”

“You cannot promise that,”

“I suppose I can’t.” he said looking at your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, “I can promise that I will never harm you. I will do all I can to make you happy.”

You felt your eyes beginning to dissect his words as your brows furrowed in concern. You forced a smile to ease his mind. You placed your hand atop of his that was holding yours. You were genuinely appreciative of his gentleness and his kind words. You should be happy, he was handsome enough. But it was times like this, when another man's hand was on yours when you felt disappointment burrowing in your chest, how you wished it was another man, how you wished it was your man.

“I can assign a handmaiden to be with you at all times when I cannot, they’ll make sure you and Joffrey are far apart-”

“I don’t need a shadow, I can take care of myself” You removed your hand sitting back in your chair.

“I say you can,” He smiled, “I do have something for you, I thought, it might soften the blow.” He said as he sat up and retrieved a silver necklace from his coat pocket. It was a dainty chain that held a silver falconed winged woman who held a large natural pearl. What made it stand out to you even more was a blue sapphire teardrop that came from her eye.

“Valyrian steel.” He said, your eyes went wide as you looked at him, how generous, too generous. “Falcon wings, and blue sapphire for your house.”

“I cannot take that,” You said,

“Hm,” He looked at the necklace in his hand, “Well I cannot wear it.” He grinned holding it out to you again.

You sighed and took it, you smiled at him, “I look forward to getting to know you, Tyrion.”

You actually did.

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After such a long talk with your future husband and the idea of becoming a Lannister made your body run a cold sweat. You ran a bath with lavender to calm yourself but it hardly worked.

As you stood in your chambers, in your white nightgown and soaking wet hair, you looked around at the red and golden interior. The room is adorned with lions and flower embellishments. It was as if they were intentionally rubbing the fact you were misplaced in your face.

You looked for something to ground yourself, you grabbed the necklace that Tyrion gave to you.

You felt the Valyrian steel necklace in your palm. The cold of the metal reminded you of the cold breeze that would rush through the halls of the Eyrie. But then, it reminded you of something else. The metal of chainmail, the metal of armor.

You longed for so much nowadays.

You longed for your mother, father, your brother whom you’d only spent an hour of life with, your room, your birds. All were gone, but you remained.

You did long for one other thing though, one thing that was in reach but still so far. That made it worse, that it was so close and yet you were unable to take it. Your longing for your mothers comfort was easier to accept because it was so unattainable but this, this was so close it made you sick.

Then that sound that becoming too familiar,

Knock, knock, knock, ‘Gods” you thought, wishing everyone would finally leave you alone. You were certain it was some handmaiden that Tyrion promised you. A doting husband he was shaping up to be, how awful.

“Go away.” You beckoned, as you dropped the necklace onto your nightstand.

BAM BAM BAM BAM, the knocks were now banging at your door. You jumped, clutching the thin fabric of your nightgown.

You approached the door slowly, “Who is it,” you asked much gentler this time.

“I could bust this door down if I wanted.” He grumbled through the door. You knew that tone all too well, you dreamt of it enough times.

You relaxed and unlocked the door, opening it just a crack, but he busted his way inside.

“What're you doing-” You began but were cut off by him slamming the door and making his way to a golden pitcher on a small table on the other side of your room.

“Don’t ever open your door for anyone who knocks like that.” He grumbled under his breath as he took a long deep swig and promptly spitting it out. “Fuck water.” He hissed “You got no fucking wine in here?”

“Sandor-” You started before he cut you off

“Don't call me that!” He barked at you,

“What should I call you then, Dog?” You snapped back at him.

“And what shall I call you? Lady fucking Lannister?” He said with a fake mocking grin.

“You ignore me for days, and now- now you come into my chambers to let out whatever irrational rage is consuming you on to me?” You walked up to him, your eyes filled with hurt, “Why? Hm? Why are you in my room?” He didn’t respond and you stepped even closer, “Why Sandor-''

You were cut off by his large arm wrapping around your waist pulling you into his body, hoisting you up just enough you were on your tiptoes. As his other hand cupped your jaw as his scarred lips pressed against yours.

You ran your hands up his thick arms covered in hard cold metal.

That burning pressure between your legs began to rise once again once his large hand traveled down your jaw to your chest. You mewled into his lips as his hand traveled towards your clothed breasts.

He growled into your lips as he said through his teeth “Tell me to go, tell me to get the fuck away from you.” He said in a primal growl as he began to remove his armor.

You shook your head “No,” you painted, your eyes fluttering from the tingling between your legs only grew as his armor fell to the ground. You took in all the scars you could see peeking through his loose tunic.

“Run away from me,” He said in a low rumble as his hands returned to your waist and breast.

“No” You almost moaned as your hands explored his broad shoulders to his thick neck. You pulled yourself up to his neck, peppering it with kisses.

“Stubborn fucking woman” He grumbled as he grabbed you by your thighs, wrapping you around his waist. His mouth traveled from your plush lips to your jaw, then to your neck, your collar bones, and to your chest. Your breathy moans rushed straight to his cock.

“Put me on the bed.” You commanded softly, he obeys immediately, his lips and tongue not stopping until you were sat on the bed. He laid you there surprisingly gently.

You sat up onto your knees on the bed. You faced him as he stood at the edge of the end of the bed. Your eyes stayed locked on his as you pulled your nightgown over your head, the soft silk melted off of you as you tossed it onto the floor. His eyes wandered over you, his hand cupped your jaw as he looked down into your eyes

“You’re beautiful. I’ve waited a very long time to tell you that.” His words were sweet but his tone was dark and deep. Like a dog growling over a bone.

You never liked being called beautiful, but this felt different. You didn’t respond, you took his hand and kissed the palm before you reached your hands up to the ties of his tunic. He pulled it off of him before you could finish.

Your fingers traced the scars that littered his chest and stomach. You stopped at one on his lower stomach, you licked and kissed it softly. His hand came and brushed the hair on your head, pulling it back forcing you to look at him.

“You don’t want this,” He said, his voice was deep but gentle.

“This is all I want.” You said as your hand traced down to the ties of his breeches. He grabbed your hand.

“Have you ever seen a man unclothed before?” He rasped.

You shook your head, “No. Not like this.” The Eyrie was a cage with a cloak on top of it. You’d seen so little of the world so high up, and the men who worked there never dared defy Lysa. But you’d see paintings and sculptures.

He began to untie his breeches for you, he practically tore the laces as he pulled himself out. He let out a groan as he was released from his breeches. His cock wasn’t even fully erect yet, still twitching at the sight of your body beneath him. Your lips parted and you tried desperately to conceal your surprise, it was bigger than what you’d seen on a canvas or carved in marble.

You reached out to take him in your hand but he grabbed your wrist, again, stopping you.

“You’ve never done this before?” He rasped again,

“Only to myself.” You said softly.

A deep and dry chuckle left his lips as he stared down at you, “Dirty little bird.” He growled under his breath. “Lay back on the bed.” He rasped “Now.” He commanded in a low growl. As you did he pulled you close by your ankles.

He leaned down and kissed your lips roughly, groaned at the sensation of his cock touching the soft skin of your thighs.

Your hand began to trail down his chest to his stomach to his cock, before his hand could stop you once more. You whined into his lips as he pulled away “If you touch me, I won’t be able to stop, I’ll fuck you bloody.” He grumbled into your lips. It didn’t sound bad at all to you.

“What if I want that?”

“You don’t. Not really.”

“Or maybe you don’t want that.”

“I want to mark you up. I want to leave bites and bruises all over you, want everyone to know I did it. I want to fuck you bloody, stretch you over my cock. I want to make you all fucking mine. But, then your lord wouldn’t care that much would he?” He growled.

“Then what do you want with me?” You asked with venom in your eyes. You were annoyed with him and his teasing. You knew he was angry with the situation but you knew the reason he didn’t do it was because it would mean others would know of your infidelity. It would risk your safety. He refused you, because he cared, even if he didn’t want to admit that.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for too long.” He said as he dropped to his knees. You squirmed a bit, but his large arm wrapped over your thighs and pinned you down.

His beard tickled you, as he began to lap up your wetness. His tongue circled and tapped against your clit.

You let out a sweet, breathy moan, as you tossed your head back onto the bed you laid on. You grabbed a handful of the hair at the back of his head, It was then when he began to fuck you with his tongue, letting his nose rub against your sensitive needy clit. Once you felt his tongue penetrate you. The loud noises filled the room, mixing with your moans of pleasure.

He lifted his head from between her legs, “Keep your mouth shut,” He was panting and tightening his grip on your thigh. You pushed his head back, “Keep yours open.” you painted,

He went back to ravaging you with his tongue. You covered your mouth to keep yourself from moaning any louder, an effort almost in vain once he sucked on your clit. “Gods- Sandor” You whispered in a moan. You saying his name made him moan into your cunt, the vibration of it made that pressure in you build, about to snap.

“Sandor” You repeated wanting that same vibration, and you got it, it drove you past the edge and you felt the heat rush out of you. He drank your cum like it was wine. You mewled, as he stood up you saw his cock as hard as stone.

Your eyes fluttering and weakly trying to sit up you asked him softly “Let me help you.” As you reached out to his cock, but for the third time he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t” he urged, “I told you, if you touch me, I won’t be able to control myself.”

You sighed, “But I want you to feel what I did.”

“Lay back” This time his voice softer “Show me how you fuck yourself.” He whispered,

You reached down and played with your clit, a groan left his lips as he took himself in his hand watching you. You watched as his huge thick hand gripped himself and pushed back and forth. He grunted and moaned behind gritted teeth. And you let out sweet mewls watching him, hardly focused on your own pleasure. Picking up his pace he almost collapsed on top of you, his one arm able to hold him up as he leaned over you.

His grunts were angry and deep.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he fucked himself in his hand, locking eyes with you, no longer looking at you fucking yourself or his hand. It was as if he was pretending his hand was your cunt, pretending he was fucking you the way he wanted to for so long. You moaned his name sweetly which only helped push him further off that cliff. Your eyes fluttering, you held his jaw in your free hand, you pulled him in and kissed his lips gently despite the savage pace he was thrusting into his hand.

“Sandor” You moaned once more before he finally came undone. “Gods!” He gritted his teeth and groaned as he was harmed. You felt his heat pour onto your stomach.

The two of you planted together. Sandor cupped your face with his rough large hand, looking at you deeply before getting up and finding his tunic. He ripped the sleeve off of it and used it to clean you before he threw it into the fireplace in your chambers.

You sat up and crawled over the edge of your bed, leaning over and grabbing your silk nightgown. You threw it on as you watched him dressing himself again. Once he finished he looked back to you, the two of you locked eyes for a moment, longer than either of you wanted. Neither of you knew what to say. You stood and approached him.

“I care for you.” You whispered, your eyes softened and you cupped his cheek with your hand.

He took your hand by the wrist and kissed your palm, “You shouldn’t.” he rasped before leaving you.

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After that night, you couldn’t get your mind off of it. It was nothing you’d ever experienced, it only made your emotions deeper for someone who couldn’t have. And now, you were engaged to someone else. You needed someone to talk to about it. Sansa wouldn’t understand, she was too young, and you clearly couldn’t talk to Tyrion. So against your better judgment you found yourself confiding in Loras.

“You're an imbecile.” He quipped as soon as you told him the event of the past two days. You could hardly blame him, you had wronged him.

“I know you're upset with me, no doubt you don’t see things the way that I do.” You said stoically.

“No I don’t. No one does, (Y/N).” His voice raised slightly with annoyance.

“I do, that seems to be what matters.”

“You could be in High Garden right now, or you could be back in the Vale, in the Eyrie. I would have had men fight for your titles that Baelish stole from under you. I would have the finest things for you. Whatever you wished for I would have done it.”

“I wished for my cousins to be safe.” You were annoyed by his lack of understanding, “Besides Tyrion seems content to do all those things you mentioned anyways.” That wasn’t the kindest thing for you to say, but you often lose your temper when pushed.

“Is he content to let you bed a king's guard?” Loras retorted quickly and at a higher volume than you’d prefer.

“Keep your voice down.” You commanded in a lower and stern tone.

“Will he be content to have a bastard? Content to raise it as his own? Content to defend you and that bastard, when people begin to notice how little they look alike?” He said with saddened eyes, “I would have been. You were my one friend, my one true friend.” His tone mellowed, defeatedly

“I still am, it needn’t be this way. I should have accepted your proposal, I know, but I-”

“I know. Your cousin.” He cut you off. He picked a flower in the garden and handed it to you. “You are the most intelligent woman I know. But you are too stubborn and selfless, if you weren’t you’d be the most powerful woman in the realm I’d wager.” He said with a hint of a grin

“I don’t need any of that. What good has it done anyone? You gain an ounce of power and you gain three enemies.” You said examining the flower he gave you.

“Just, just stay alive, look out for yourself.” He said, defeatedly. He placed a hand on your cheek and walked away.

You sighed, nothing comforting came from it. You didn’t know what to expect but you were disappointed nonetheless.

You looked back at the flower in your hand, you huffed and tossed it back into the bushes and continued on.

You looked up and saw Joffrey with his guards walking past across the garden. You caught a glimpse of the Hound. His eyes caught yours. But soon you two were ripped from each other's gaze.

You didn’t know what to do now. All you did know is that you had three men who wanted you and three men who could despise you if you took the wrong step. And your mind lingered on one man in particular, one the other three weren’t even concerned with.

Baelish, and what he wanted with the Vale.

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Note: bark like you want it baby… I told y'all we’d be laying it down. And don’t worry we will be busting it down as well. Also the actual jewler who created that gorgeous pendent in the banner is miya kumo

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justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year

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Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Let me know if you enjoy this. Likes and comments are appreciated. Enjoy -L

Warning: NSFW, being the it girl, Joffrey being Joffrey, Robert is nice to us, manipulation at its finest, daddy's girl, princess wants princess gets, territorial!

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“It was a miracle.” Robert Baratheon, your father told you. You had survived the horrid fever that took your twin brother away. It was a secret that was kept among the Lannisters and only Robert. While Cersei was in mourning of the loss of her son, Robert’s was cut short. Cersei always resented him for that and that he gave you his undivided attention. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew how Robert adored you. Some had even said that he loves you more than his own wife, Cersei and as you grew, he practically gave you whatever your heart desired. Your father wasn’t the only one to give you gifts. Fur straight from House Stark, jewels and the finest dresses from House Martell. Seafood freshly caught by House Greyjoy. The list of gifts went on and on. You were named the realm’s delight among the people.

When Robert learned about the nickname that you have been given he feared that you will have the same fate as Lyanna Stark. Robert decided to do what was best, keep you protected at all times. Robert declared for Sandor Clegane to become your personal guard. Cersei had cried out to Robert about it. He is a monstrosity and hideous beast, she ranted. You heard of the Clegane’s brothers. Lord Baelish always been somewhat kind enough to keep you up to date about the accomplishments Ser Gregor had done along with Sandor’s.

“A flower like you shouldn’t be guarded by such an animal.” Lord Baelish exclaimed as his wandering eyes looked up and down that you. You grabbed a hold of his hands. Lord Baelish blushed from the sudden contact.

“I will grow to be the most beautiful flower because of that animal.” You whispered to Lord Baelish who honestly wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying.

You were so close to him, his mind was in the gutters. Rolling your eyes when you turn away to leave Lord Baelish, you wipe your hands on your dress while walking away from him. Men, they will always think with their cock. Cersei had told you after she had too many cups of wine. Your uncle, Jamie had laughed at her and tried to take her back to her chambers before she said anything else. That’s how you used Lord Baelish to tell you about the gossip going around. A praise, batting your eyelashes at him or giving him a smile was all needed for him to tell you what you wanted to know.

When Sandor was presented to you for the first time, you were surprised. He was the second tallest man you ever seen, his brother was the first. He had lowered his head as he entered the chambers so he wouldn’t hit the door frame. Robert had taken your hand and pulled you towards Sandor. You noticed Sandor had the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen. Brown, like the earth and as the light hit his eyes, they looked like honey. You got a closer look when he knelt in front of you and vowed to keep you safe. You knew about the story of his burn scars. It took you an afternoon with Lord Baelish, drinking tea to learn about it. You had taken a liking to Sandor when he became your guard. He was too silent for your liking but that meant you had to break his walls down.

Sandor stood and waited with you outside of your mother’s chambers. She was going to give birth to her second child. Sandor had mumbled to you to keep still since you kept walking back and forth, worried every time you heard your mother’s screams. You were about to say something when the screams stopped. Joffrey was born, and he was healthy. King Robert had his heir to the iron throne. Cersei had two other children after that and your relationship with her became unsteady. Sandor would cast a look at you whenever someone mentioned to you about Joffrey’s and your siblings' golden locks as they grew. You gave them a smile and answered. “They have been blessed with the Lannister’s golden hair.”

He knew you weren’t an idiot, he ignored when people said you were and sometimes when in a bad mood he slayed them whenever they expressed their opinions about it to him loudly. All beauty but nothing in your head. He wanted to tell them how wrong they were. He had spent hours with you in the dusty library of the castle. Seen you excelled in your studies. The winning smile you gave them disappears the moment they leave your sight.

“Something to say, my beloved Sandor?” The tips of Sandor’s ears grew hot by your affectionate words. You had a habit of calling him all sorts of names after both of you grew closer. You didn't want to admit it to Sandor but you like seeing him squirm after calling him those sweet names.

“No, princess.” He croaked out when you gave a cheeky smile. He immediately looked down at the ground.

“Do you think father will ever notice?” You ask Sandor and he looks back at you. You were being serious.

Sandor shook his head, no. “Maybe if he stops drinking and catches a break from his whores, I reckon he might see it. Unfortunately I can’t say anything. As much as father loves me more, I fear I will be punished if I say it.”

Sandor was right you weren’t the dumb princess everyone seems to think. As the time passed, Joffrey and the rest of your siblings grew; it's been nearly 16 years. You had finally managed to get out of a marriage proposal that your father mentioned to you. Sandor was waiting outside as he heard your voice behind your father’s chambers door. He couldn’t help but grin when he heard the hearty laughter from the King.

“Thank you, father. I knew you would be able to understand. That’s why you are the most wonderful King to ever live.” Sandor heard you say before walking out.

Sandor watched as you shut the door behind you and pointed at the staircase nearby. Sandor looked around his surroundings, making sure no one was in sight. He walked a few steps down and turned to see you walking towards him. He lets out a huff when you jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Seven hells.” Sandor cursed when kissed his cheek, attacking him with kisses. Sandor moved to capture your lips with his.

“I take it. It went well.” Sandor said, pulling you close to him. You nodded with a grin.

“Father can be very kind when he’s drunk out of his mind.” You told him as he put you down on the steps. Both of you froze at the sound of Joffrey’s voice, he was coming up the steps. Sandor immediately took a few steps away from you.

“Oh look, it’s my dear sister.”

“Hello, my dear brother.” You greeted Joffrey in the same sarcastic tone. The blonde stood a few steps down from you with Ser Meryn Trant behind him.

“Dog.” Joffrey said. “My-.”

“You mean Sandor.” You cut Sandor off. Your harsh tone wiped the smirk off Joffrey's face. You crossed your arms over your chest. This was an ongoing thing. Joffrey would call Sandor a dog to get a rise out of you.

“His name is Sandor. Have you forgotten?” Joffrey can’t help but smile wickedly at you. It irritated you, Joffrey grew to be more ill and filled with a horrible attitude. He was a spoiled child, that’s all you had to say about your brother. His words and remarks were vile and you wouldn’t stand for it especially when it came to Sandor or to your servants.

“He’s a dog, my dear sister. There’s no changing that. He is The Hound.”

“You’re a dog as well. You even act like one and yet people still call you prince.” You answered back.

“You little-.” Meryn Trant stopped mid sentence when he saw Sandor walking down the steps to get next to you.

“Finish what you were saying. I fucking dare you.” Sandor threatens Meryn Trant and gives him a cold stare down. Sandor’s reputation grew as the years passed. Killer, monster, perhaps even worse than his brother, the names and the fear of fighting against him grew. They all knew no one is safe when he’s protecting you.

“You are so kind to the people below us.” Joffrey said, making your eyes roll. You wished for the day when Joffrey realized that he is a bastard. It was called a rumor but you knew the truth. Cersei has always been a bit sloppy when she was drunk. You had seen your mother and your uncle, Jamie getting cozy.

“I will be so heartbroken when you finally leave King’s Landing and join those filthy people from Drone.” You smile at your brother. Plans have been changed.

“I’m surprised that you know about my marriage proposal with Drone.” You said knowing him and your mother had conspired this marriage proposal.

“Let me be the one to deliver this good news to you, dear brother.” Joffrey frowned as you approached him closer.

“There is no need to be heartbroken, for I am staying. There is no proposal.” Joffrey's blonde brows rose up and his shocked expression turned into an angry one.

“It must be hard not being father’s favorite.” You whispered.

This dispute, the rivalry between you and brother began when he was able to see how Robert favored you more. He reached out for Robert but Robert was busy being King or being drunk. Joffrey was always envious of you, you had your father wrapped around your finger along with the entire realm while you got cheered and praised. He got concerned looks from the people of King's Landing.

“Shall we go, Sandor? Agatha said she was preparing chicken for prandium.” You looked over at Sandor who nodded at you.

“Yes, princess.” Passing by Joffrey, you ignored the look from Mery Trant. Sandor bowed his head to Joffrey and followed you. You can hear Sandor’s heavy footsteps behind you as you continue to hold your front. You wouldn’t let Joffrey know that his little plan to get rid of you didn’t work. Thanks to Lord Baelish and Lord Varys who gave you a heads up about it again, this wasn’t the first time. Joffrey wanted to get rid of you again and now he had even gotten your mother to play along.

Night came and you welcomed the warmth Sandor provided you. Even though the weather of King’s Landing was already warm you still preferred the heat from Sandor’s body.

“I heard something.” Sandor spoke after a moment of silence. You played with the soft hair on his chest while you laid your head on his arm, his arms tightening around you.

“Speak, Sandor.” You softly said, growing anxious every passing second.

“The servants overheard Joffrey asking Cersei about taking me as his own guard.” You raised your head off his arm and looked down at him.

“What?”

“He wants me as his guard.” Sandor answered you. You shook your head.

“That little cunt.” You whispered under your breath and you realized Sandor wasn’t even looking at you. He kept staring up at the ceiling of your chambers. His eyes had become dull and his face was emotionless. Pushing the sheets off your body, you moved to sit in his lap. Paying no attention to the soreness between your legs, you felt him hold on to your legs as you cupped his face with both hands.

“He won’t take you away from me.” Sandor let out a strain chuckle.

He knew what he had with you won’t last. He had made a promise to himself when he first met you. He wouldn't fall in love with you but he broke it. He was utterly in love with you after being your guard for many years. He had convinced himself in the beginning of your relationship that you guys can be together but reality was hitting him straight in the face, you were a princess and he was just a second born son. You would be married to someone else, someone better. You would leave him.

“I swear it.”

“Might be for the best if I do switch. It will be for the best.” Sandor said, making you frown.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to watch you marry some lord or a king and give him kids.” Sandor traced the skin of your legs as he spoke.

“Your father won’t decline the next marriage proposal. He did it for the last two but not the third one. He won’t, I know it. The realm wants to see you married and have children. If I keep guarding you and you get married, I’ll kill your husband.” Sandor said sincerely. You dropped your hands from his face and brought it down to his chest.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

Sandor’s jaw clenched and his eyes grew hard. “Yes or no?”

“You know I do. I have killed for you.” Sandor responded with no remorse. He had spilled blood for you and had lost count on how many people he killed to protect you and your honor.

“If you love me then never say those words again. Promise me?! Promise me that you won’t say that it’s best.”

Sandor said your name softly but you yelled at him. “Swear it to me! Please.”

Sandor nodded, raising his hand up to cup your cheek when he saw you on the verge of tears. He couldn’t bear seeing you cry. You grabbed on to his wrist, kissing his palm.

“I promise. I swear it.” He told you. You leaned down to kiss him. Enjoying the tender moment with him, there were a few times when Sandor showed his soft side with you. It was mostly in bed, both of you would be wrapped around each other and sometimes the aftermath of many orgasms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He told you and you began to kiss him harder moving your hips, your cunt humping against his cock. Whining loudly when you felt him pull you to his chest and wrap an arm around you. His free hand touches your bare ass. Sandor takes a deep breath as he feels how warm and wet you are.

“I won't let Joffrey take you away from me. I have a plan.”

Sandor’s hand freezes on your ass and looks down at you.

“A plan?” You nodded as you pressed a kiss on his chest.

“Yes. You’re mine, Sandor. No one is going to take you away from me.” Your words were like a shot of adrenaline to him. He gripped your ass harder, he wanted to believe you.

He didn't want to ruin this moment with a fight. He wanted to remember this night with you incase this would be the last night he gets to spent with you. Naked and curled up together. He wanted to enjoy it, so he moved to his side, taking you with him. Facing each other now, Sandor drapes your leg over his waist, your right arm under his head while his arm goes under you. In a thirst position, he can hold you close to him. You bump his nose softly and kiss his scared cheek. He gripped your waist pulling you closer to him.

You shut your eyes and moan when his thick fingers touch your slit. Gather the reminiscence of your cum and his dripping from your hole and rub it on along the swollen lips of your cunt. The tip of his fingers gliding over your clit making you cry out, your cunt was sensitive from earlier. Your toes curled up and legs tensed up when you felt his finger inside of you.

“Fuck.” He groans as he holds you close to him. Moaning his name as you felt him finger you for a moment. He shifted and moved your legs higher so he had room.

“Sandor.” You cry out his name as he slips inside of you. You held on to his arms as he gripped your waist while pumping into you.

His face hidden between your neck and shoulder, you can feel his hand on your back, nails digging into your skin. You held on for dear life as you heard him growl against your skin.

“I’ll kill him, Y/n.” He moans to you as he fucks you, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. His thrust was growing faster and harsher. The thought of you married with some prince made him angry. Even if people didn't know, you were his and he would keep it that way.

“You hear me?” He said with a moan. He moves his face towards you. You nod at him letting out a pitched whine when he hits that sweet spot.

“You belong with me. You’re mine.” You kissed him trying to mask your moans but nothing in the world would mask the squelching sound of your pussy being fucked.

Sandor held on to you as he moved his hips back and forward. He feels his balls tighten when he feels you cum on him, you’re trembling, skin slick with sweat. Sandor is grunting as he manhandles you. Your hands are on him, touching him, you can feel the muscles and his scars from his battles on his back and his arms.

Sandor cries your name and you shut your eyes as he presses his hips against you, slamming his cock deep inside of you. His hand on your hips goes down your ass, cups your cheek. He squeezes it as he cums deep inside of you. You whimper feeling stuff, your pussy keeps clenching and unclenching around him. He shifts his hips and you moan at the feeling of your clit being ticked by his pubic hair.

You feel his lips on your cheek, pressing soft kisses as he huffs out of breath.

“Sandor.” You whispered as you nuzzled against his face. You didn’t mind the feeling of the scars against your face, you kept close to him enjoying the aftermath of your orgasm.

You didn’t want this to end, you wouldn’t allow it. Sandor was yours first, Sandor belongs to you just as much you belong to him. You weren’t going to give him up without a fight.

Morning came and you were woken by your ladies in waiting. The flock of ladies knocked and waited for you outside to respond. You rose up, finding yourself alone. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and invited them inside. One by one they walked inside, picking up the sheets from the floor, one went to your closet to get your clothes for the day and one opened the doors to the balcony.

“Here, my princess.” The eldest came by you after you covered yourself with your robe. You thanked her for the tea and waited patiently while one warmed your bath water.

One of the ladies was brushing your hair after your bath. They stopped when there was a knock on the door, opening the door. Sandor came walking in, he had a concerning look on his face.

“Good morrow, princess. The king demands your presence in his chambers at once.”

You walked to your father’s chambers with Sandor behind you. He sensed how nervous you were. Before going around the hall, you felt Sandor grab your arm. He gently pulled you back. You were pushed softly against the wall. Sandor stood in front of you, towers over you as he looked down at you.

“Worried?” You whispered to him. You feel one of his hands cup your face.

Sandor doesn’t reply, he simply presses his lips against yours. “Go on.” He tells you and steps away from you.

Sandor has a habit of never expressing his feelings out loud. Sandor followed you quietly. He wasn’t worried at all, he was scared and he hasn’t felt this way since he was a child when Gregor disfigured him.

You walked down the hall and came to a halt when you saw Ser Meryn Trant standing outside of your father’s chamber. It meant that Joffrey was inside. You felt bile rise up. Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath to calm your nervousness.

Meryn Trant saw you and opened your father’s chamber door for you. You looked over your shoulder and gave Sandor a look of nervousness. You took one last look of his brown eyes. It calms you for a moment and you’re able to walk inside your father’s chamber. You noticed Joffrey sitting down along with your mother while your father sat behind his desk. The door shut behind you as you walked towards your father.

“Mother. Brother.” You greeted them and walked next to your father. You leaned down to kiss one of his pudgy cheeks. Robert gave you a smile and greeted you. You can smell the wine coming off your father.

“Sit, we have been waiting. Joffrey and your mother wish to discuss something with us.”

You sat on the empty seat next to your mother. “Joffrey has told me that he would like Sandor as his personal guard.” Your mother said.

So this was about Sandor. “What's wrong with Ser Meryn Trant?” You asked Joffrey.

Joffrey wasn't expecting for you to say something. He thought you would obey instantly. You stare at Joffrey, you weren't going to let Sandor slip away from you. You were going to fight for him.

Joffrey looked over at his father who was also staring at him. “Well, since Y/n is going off in Dorne. I want Sandor.”

“I'm not going to Dorne. I told you.” Joffrey clenched his jaw.

“You had refused your last marriage proposal. Father, are you going to accept this?” Joffrey asked Robert.

“She isn't going to Dorne.” Robert said, making Cersei sit up. “Why not?” She asked him.

“You dare to question me, woman.” Robert eyed Cersei.

“Our daughter has not been wed, people will talk.”

“You think I care what people say about her. She is my daughter. My word is law and final. She won't be shipped to Dorne.”

You dislike how sometimes your father would speak to your mother. Robert was a down right misogynist but when it came to you he was different. You knew it had to do with Lyanna Stark, everyone told you how there was a resemblance between you and her. It was confirmed when Ned Stark and his family came to King's Landing to celebrate your name day. Ned couldn't take his eyes off of you and had even stuttered his sister's name after drinking with your father.

You felt bad for Ned after so many years the death of his sister still had a hold over him just like Robert. He had begged forgiveness to you the next day. “Nonsense. No need to forgive, Lord Stark.”

“He’s a good man.” Sandor told you after Ned left. You had finished a walk with Ned in the garden after you told him if it would be alright to share some stories about Lyanna. He gave you a smile and accepted. You learned a lot about her and intend to use this information.

“He is.” You replied to him.

“It will get him killed one of these days.” Sandor’s words made you sad. You didn't want to see the Lord of Winterfell dead. Unlike Joffrey and your mother, you enjoy their presence and have grown fond of his wife, Catelyn.

“Our daughter should have been married and had babies by now. We can use her as an advantage, a leverage.” Cersei stood up from her seat and walked to the corner of the room where the cart of wines and cups were at.

“I believe it has to be that atrocious dog always behind her. His face scares off any suitors. She will be married soon and doesn’t need him anymore.”

“He protects me, mother.” You said folding your hands on your lap. Cersei looked over her shoulder at you. You looked over at your father because at the end of the day, he has the last day.

“Father, remember the riot. Those men would have killed me. Sandor was there and killed them all. He killed those men.” Robert nodded remembering all too well about that horrible riot that broke out.

You stood up from your seat and walked towards the desk. You kneel down near your father ignoring the tsk sound from Joffrey. You decided if Joffrey and your mother wanted to play dirty. So will you.

“I do not wish the same fate as the lovely Lyanna Stark. May she be at peace.” Your father’s eyes shifted at the mention of Lyanna.

“I know. I have refused two marriage proposals now but I must tell you the truth, Sandor didn’t trust them. He had seen him, heard them speak ill behind my back.” You knew the words you were about to say will be a low blow to your mother and it will create a shift between you two but you had to do it. You didn’t want Joffrey to have Sandor. Sandor Clegane is yours.

“You might think this is ridiculous, father.” You grabbed your father’s hand.

“I want to be loved. The type of love you and Lyanna shared. Ned told me stories about your love with her and it warmed my heart. I crave for that love you both shared.” You flinched at the sound of Cersei throwing her cup of wine to the ground and walked out of the room. No one said anything for a moment. You just watched as the red wine from Drone stained the carpeted rug. This was your chance, your moment to seal it. Joffrey won’t take Sandor away from you.

Sandor stood straight up when he saw the queen running out of the room. The door was opened and he looked ahead. He saw you kneeling by your father, looking up at him.

“Don't take Sandor away from me. Don't let me have the same fate as the woman you loved.”

Robert smiled down at you and cupped your face. “No need to worry. Clegane will stay by your side.”

Robert looks towards Joffrey. “Stay with Ser Mery Trant. If you wish for a more depraved guard. Perhaps we can ask The Mountain to fill in.” Joffrey quickly shook his head. He sent a glare at you before standing up and walking out of the room. Sandor moved away from the door when he saw Joffrey with a pout on his face. Ser Mery Trant followed the prince.

Sandor looked back at the doorway. Robert had helped you get up on your feet and gave you a hug. Sandor gave you a small smile when he saw you staring back at him with your own smile as you hugged your father. It worked.

Sandor knew he would have to beg forgiveness for not believing in you. Your plan worked. Shame on him for ever doubting you, Princess Y/n Baratheon, the realm's delight.

Chapter 2 ->

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #games of thrones x reader #games of thrones fanfiction #rorymccann #sandor clegane smut #sandor the hound clegane #prince joffrey #robert baratheon #reader baratheon

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Text

To Love A Lannister

chapter 2 | chapter 3

The crowd had gotten louder the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at first against the sun. You wanted to shield your sight but with your hands tied behind your back, all you could do was wiggle your head to the opposite direction. And when you looked to the sides, there Cersei stood, her lips curved into an evil smile, along side her son, King Joffrey. The sound of a man grunting beside you made you turn your head. A masked man was pulling some kind of rope beside you. Your eyes followed where it leads, ending on a machinery located on top of you. It only took you a second to figure out it was a guillotine.

Thwak!

You abruptly woke up, grasping your neck as if on instinct if it was still connected to your body. You weren't scared to die, not for now, anyway. But you'd have a far chance getting killed from drowning rather than execution.

It was only a harmless threat, you thought. Cersei was known for it. And even when you knew what you were getting to in the end, it couldn't hurt you a little less to try, that maybe the endless looks you get from Cersei during dinners and passing meant something other than distaste.

Sleep was hard to get by after that. With nothing else left to do, you decided to wake up for the day.

Oberyn and Ellaria were still fast asleep so you tried to find food for breakfast. And if luck permitted you, you might bumped into the Queen herself.

It was not the Queen you met by the courtyard near the Kitchen's Keep but Tommen, her youngest son. It appeared he was chasing something that scurried further away into the bushes.

When he didn't see you standing behind him, he bumped into your chest. "Apologies My Lady, I was just chasing my cat."

"No worries, My Prince," you greeted back as you bowed. "In fact, I saw him running towards those bushes. I'd help you, if you'd allow it."

"Please, I don't want to bother-"

"Nonsense," you said, then you and Tommen crouched unto the dirt and began looking for his cat. Fortunately, a sliver of gray caught your eye before it jumped to the nearby fence.

"Got you," you said as you caught the furry cat, brushing its fur as you returned it to a smiling Tommen.

"Thank you, My Lady," he said.

"Does it have a name?"

"Ser Pounce."

"An honorable name."

"Do you think so? Joffrey doesn't think so," he said sadly. "He always says he'd kill him and make me eat it."

"I'm sure he's only kidding, My Prince," you said, though you didn't doubt Joffrey wouldn't do it. "If you need any place for him to hide for the meantime, you can always ask me."

Tommen smiled from ear to ear. And that was when you finally noticed you two weren't alone.

"It's time for breakfast, Tommen," Cersei called, her hands tightly clutching against the post. The Queen possessed a kind of beauty no one could compare. And you were completely enamored.

"Your Grace," you greeted, bowing your head.

"Coming, Mother!" Tommen answered before turning back to you. "Would you like to join us for breakfast, My Lady?"

Before you could reply, Cersei added, "I'm sure Y/N has something else to tend to this morning-"

"Of course, I'd like to dine with you," you interrupted, chuckling softly. "I feel famished myself already. Tommen here can tell me more about Ser Pounce and how he became a knight."

Tommen laughed as you walked together towards the dining hall, ignoring Cersei's warning glare she was sending your way.

Luckily, Joffrey wasn't around to join. And that meant Tommen was free to discuss with you about his cat and about the cats in Dorne. You had shared with him how you used to have a pet cat who died due to old age. You mentioned it was your late cousin Elia's cat.

"That's terrible, I don't want that to happen to Ser Pounce," Tommen said as he brushed the furry cat on his lap.

"I'm sure he'll live a long life, My Prince," you assured him. "In fact, Myrcella has also gotten herself a cat in Dorne."

The mention of Cersei's daughter made the Queen drop her spoon.

"Really? I can't wait to meet them. Mother, can we go visit Myrcella in Dorne?" Tommen asked.

Cersei could only force a smile. You didn't mean to put the Queen on the spot so you eventually changed the topic.

When Tommen had excused himself to chase after Ser Pounce, who suddenly jumped from his lap to chase a mouse, the air in the room grew thick.

"You seem to have gotten close to my daughter," Cersei began, after sipping her wine. "I'm glad hospitality is still being practiced in Dorne nowadays."

You smiled at her. "Yes, Your Grace. Myrcella's a bright girl, kind and exceptional. I loved having her around when we're reading scrolls about the night sky and the history of Dorne."

"She doesn't need to know the history of Dorne, when she'll be back to the Capital once she's of age," Cersei said.

"Well, Myrcella always seems curious. And there's no harm seeking more wisdom when there's nothing left to lose."

There was utter silence as you both continued to eat.

"She misses you, Your Grace," you said sincerely. This softened the Queen's stature. It even brought a little smile on her face.

"Mm, we do send each other letters from time to time," Cersei answered.

"You know no words would be tantamount to physical presence-"

"Are you suggesting I should visit Dorne?" Cersei asked, chuckling.

"Why not, Your Grace? I, myself, could give you a tour."

Cersei laughed softly. And it was the kind of laugh that didn't sound evil. It was a genuine one. A soft one. One that's full of longing.

The conversation went on as you both talked about Dorne, about Myrcella, about Cersei's travels when she was young, how being a Queen caged her from exploring and how she once had a dream she had a boat of her own and she'd be the captain.

It only ended abruptly when Jaime arrived, setting his helmet on the dining table rather loud and harshly, as if he was intentionally interrupting your conversation.

~~~

Later that night, Tywin held a small dinner for the guests. You would have enjoyed it, however, the sight of Cersei and Jaime rather close together only made your stomach churn with spite.

And there was King Joffrey, boastfully showing off the wild boar he had caught earlier that morning. You knew he had ordered a servant to do that for him. You were about to counter his speech but decided against it, remembering how you had promised to control yourself around Cersei's first son.

The only time you couldn't pretend to be happy were the times Cersei was with Jaime. Jaime came back a week ago with a decapitated hand. You felt pity for the man who had suffered being a hostage by the Starks yet you couldn't help feeling bitter whenever he and Cersei had gotten close.

You knew the rumors. Drunk Tyrion even confirmed it one night you accompanied your cousin in certain brothels. That Cersei was truly involved with her twin brother Jaime. That the King was not the true heir. Even Myrcella. Or Tommen.

You decided to ignore them when you could still control yourself. One wrong comment from you would make your nightmare come true.

And then there was Ser Loras Tyrell from Highgarden, brother of the bride to be Lady Margaery, the one Cersei is arranged to be married.

This made you feel more hatred as if you had any right at all.

Cersei was staring outside the window alone with a glass of red wine in her hand when you noticed Loras approached her. She immediately dismissed him the soonest he opened his mouth to talk before she went to watch by the next window instead.

The disappointment on Loras' face brought comfort in yours.

This was the time you finally approached Cersei.

If she'd dismissed you like the way she did to the poor guy, it was probably a sign from the heavens to give up on pursuing after her.

"Your Grace," you greeted, bowing your head before standing beside her by the window. The celebration had spread outside the Red Keep, where you could see a couple of people drinking loudly and yelling outside their houses.

"Parties in Dorne are different," you commented. "It's lively and thrilling."

Cersei snorted before she sipped her wine, her eyes still on the horizon. "And what of the Capital?"

"It's dark and dull, the complete opposite to be honest, but I mean no offense, Your Grace," you replied.

"If it was such a bore to you, why bother come?"

You smiled. "And miss this chance to meet you, Your Grace? I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world."

Cersei's cheeks flushed but your eyes could only be imagining it for the torches inside the castle could be playing tricks on you.

She licked her lips before speaking, "What do you want?"

"What?"

"You've been certainly making it your priority to catch my attention," she went on with disdain in her voice. "Sparing with Joffrey, getting close with Tommen and Myrcella. Is it Tommen you want? I'm sure Dorne won't tolerate such a thing."

It made you laugh. "I believe you're right, Your Grace."

Cersei chuckled darkly. "I'd better be dead before I'd allow your marriage to my youngest boy."

You quickly shook your head, still laughing. "No, Your Grace. It was just to catch your attention."

"To what end?"

And you only stared at her as if you had nothing else to say.

She scoffed, suddenly realizing. "You must be out of your mind. In fact, I believe you want to get yourself killed."

"Dorne is amazing," you reasoned. "In fact, richer and more powerful than Highgarden. And we all know Ser Loras is a pillow biter. And. . . Myrcella already loves it there in Dorne-"

"I don't think you have noticed one wrong physical aspect. How would you even gift an heir to my father?"

You smiled. "Trust me, I have no problems with that, Your Grace. I'm sure the rumors about me have also spread upon my arrival."

Cersei only fell silent as her eyes quickly darted to your crotch back to your face before gazing out the horizon.

"If you think I'd entertain such a ludicrous idea then I suggest you guard your doors at night because I myself will slice off your tongue. You're not even a known Martell. What makes you think degrading myself to your level would even be a fair comparison as to marrying Loras?"

"Forgive me, Your Grace." You bowed, hurt upon the admission. "I didn't mean to offend-"

"Offend? You insulted my family name."

"Cersei, a word?"

Both of you turned to Tywin's voice.

"Apologies My lady Y/n, I have something to discuss with my daughter."

"Of course, Lord Tywin," you said, then you looked at Cersei, avoiding her eyes. "Your Grace."

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #game of thrones #g!p reader

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feyhunter78 · 1 month

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Chapter Fifteen - Your aunt has news, and you find you quite like the taste of blood on your fangs. Ch 16

The air finally returns to your lungs when Tommen proclaims Jon a Dayne, trueborn, of noble linage. You had been waiting, anxious, your nerves on edge, since Ser Arthur and Jon entered the hall, but now, now you feel yourself calming.

Your Uncle Jaime looks as if he will be sick, and as Jon makes his way towards you, your uncle makes his way toward Ser Arthur. You knew the older man was something of a mentor to your uncle, that he revered the man, and you know not how this new knowledge will truly sit with your uncle.

“My Lady.” Jon says, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his lips, a beautiful smile on them, his touch lingering a moment too long as judged by your aunt’s sharp cough.

“Lord Dayne.” You say, returning his smile. There is a new confidence in his eyes, the violet hues peeking through the gray, like amethysts within stone.

“Lord Dayne, my congratulations.” Margaery says as she makes her way out of the hall, throwing you a quick smile.

“Thank you, My Queen.” Jon says, bowing his head.

Your Aunt Cersei takes your hand from Jon’s. “Lord or not, you are still her sworn sword not her suitor, it would do you well to treat your charge with the respect of her station.”

You purse your lips but say nothing in retaliation, simply smiling up at your aunt. “You must excuse us, dear Aunt, we were simply caught up in the excitement. It is similar to how Uncle Jaime names you Queen of Love and Beauty each time he wins a tourney.”

Your aunt’s face becomes unreadable, and she turns on her heel, storming away.

Jon offers you his arm. “Shall we talk a walk through the gardens, Lady Lannister?”

You take his arm, ignoring the stares of the others as you lean ever so slightly into him. “That sounds delightful, Lord Dayne.”

You find yourselves sitting on the large flat rim of a fountain, water spurting from the mouths of various animals, flower petals floating peacefully atop the water collected within the basin. You trail your fingers through the water, the cool sensation feeling quite pleasant as you release a deep breath, your face tilted up towards the sun.

“How does it feel to be a true Dayne?” You ask Jon, your eyes closed against the bright light of the sun.

“Is it strange if I say I do not feel any different? People still stare, they surely will still whisper.”

“It has not even been a day Jon, allow the news to travel, soon dozens of young ladies will be vying for your hand.” You tell him, a soft smile on your face when you feel his fingertips ghost over the apples of your cheek.

He laughs softly. “They shall be sorely disappointed then, for my hand has already been taken.”

“They shall be.” You agree, opening your eyes and tilting your face towards Jon. There is no one here, no one is looking, it would be so easy, so simple to lean forward and kiss him.

“Y/N…we should not, someone might see.” He says, reading the look in your eye even as his own drift down to your lips.

You nod, even as you lean forward ever so slightly on your hand, your lips a hairsbreadth from Jon’s. “We should not, and yet…”

“And yet I find myself quite compelled.” He breathes, closing the distance, his lips soft against yours, a blissful moment before he pulls back.

You give him a confused look, but he nods towards his direwolf. Ghost’s ears have perked up, his ruby eyes turned towards the far entrance of the garden.

You scoot away from him, clasping your hands in your lap, as Jon stands, his arms behind his back.

Then Ghost darts forward, quick as a whip, a crunching sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, fills the air, then the direwolf trots back over, dropping a squirrel at Jon’s feet.

You cover your mouth to stifle your laughter, and Jon groans. “Ghost, why?”

Ghost simply nudges at the squirrel with his nose.

“I think he wants you to throw it, like the ball Tommen throws for his kittens.” You snicker.

“I will do no such thing.” Jon says.

Ghost whines and Jon sighs, shaking his head.

“Go on Ghost, your master will not play with you, might as well eat your kill.” You coo at him.

Ghost picks the squirrel up and trots a few feet away before he begins to eat, nearly swallowing it whole.

“You spoil him.” Jon remarks, taking a seat beside you once more.

“How can I not?”

“It is quite simple, you simply do not. ”

You roll your eyes. “Ah yes, I did not think of that, what a brilliant suggestion.”

You wish you had not encouraged Ghost to eat that squirrel because now you wished him to eat a rat instead.

“My dear, Lady Jayne Westerling, told me what she saw. That Jon had you pinned against the wall like a barbarian.” Your Aunt Cersei says, her voice laid thick with faux sympathy and concern.

“Jayne Westerling is nothing but a bored little girl with no spine, or mind of her own. Clearly this is the work of our enemies, seeking to drag down the reputation of House Lannister.” You say, keeping your expression neutral as your aunt taught you, though you were unable to keep the venom from leaking into your tone.

You are glad Jon had gone to visit with his father, he would tear himself apart with guilt hearing your aunt’s words.

“Many say she is sweet, if not a bit dull, certainly not a liar.” Your aunt says, looking up at you from her place at the table. It is small, round, set in the solar she inhabits while you all remain at Highgarden.

You grip the back of your chair, still not yet sitting as she had bid you to when you entered. “And I am?”

She smiles, it is supposed to be gentle, ones she directed at Sansa when her marriage to Joffrey still remained on the table. “No, no, but you are protective of him, and I understand. You care for him, but y/n you cannot care for him over yourself, that is foolishness.”

“Listening to Jayne Westerling is foolishness. ” You snap, keeping your head held high. “And I thought you smarter than that. A useless daughter of one of our bannermen is attempting to slander our name, she must be punished.”

Your aunt’s smile turns sharp, a lioness bearing her fangs proudly. “You will be the lady of a great house someday soon; I have taught you to deal with slanderous servants, have I not?” There is blood dripping from her fangs, her claws.

It ignites the bloodlust within you, and you smile, bearing your own set of fangs. “You have.”

“Then I trust you to deal with this Westerling waif.” An indirect order from the leader of the pride, one that sets you into motion, stalking down the halls until you find Jayne.

You can almost laugh, Jayne has found herself with Jon somehow, standing, flirting with him in the gardens, Tommen and Margaery at a table in the far corner enjoying pastries with Margaery’s grandmother.

Jon sees you first, gratefully breaking away from Jayne. “My Lady, you should have sent a servant to fetch me once you had finished speaking with your aunt.”

You go to respond, but Jayne beats you to it. “I am sure the Dowager Queen advised her to keep her distance, a shame she has not followed such wise advice.” The look in her eyes, and the disgusted wrinkle of her nose, is not well hidden, and you nearly laugh at the sight.

“Yes, well, I simply reassured my aunt that she should not believe such slanderous lies.” You say coolly, looking down at Jayne.

“Is it slander if I merely repeat what I saw with my own eyes?” She asks innocently, batting her eyelashes at Jon, as if he too was not implicated in the deed she spoke of.

You take a step forward, a sickeningly sweet smile on your face. “You saw nothing, a trick of the light perhaps, and it does you no good to run around spreading lies about your liege lord’s family.”

“I do not lie.” Jayne snaps. “I saw you, pressed up against the wall like a common whore.”

Your eyes narrow. “You speak of a Lannister, to a Lannister, you will watch your tongue you little chit.”

Jayne smirks. “It is not my fault you could not rein in your lust; it must run in the family. You, the Dowager Queen, King Joffrey, the Kingslayer, all horrid and perverse, tell me is it true that while in Winterfell you let Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy take turns with you before you let the bastard into your bed?”

You taste blood on your tongue and lunge, grabbing at her hair, your fist connecting with her cheekbones. “You bitch, I will have your head for those words.”

She screams but tries to kick at you, hands flailing wildly. “Lord Dayne, help me!”

“He is mine, he will not help you.” You snarl, twisting the hair caught in your fist.

Jayne gets a hand in your hair, yanking hard, getting in one good shot. You claw at her, cursing under your breath as the fight devolves into a rabid struggle. Your rings make cuts and indents in her skin, your lip bust open and bloodied.

Your vision is red, Lannister red, bleeding royal blood, purging your mind of any doubts, any hesitations. You are a lioness, you will taste blood, you will darken your claws and fangs with it.

Then you are ripped away from Jayne by Jon and you fight against his hold as Tyrell guards rush forward to carry Jayne to a maester.

“I want her tongue ripped out for her words.” You scream after them, sounding so like your Aunt Cersei for a moment you think she has spoken the words not you.

“Y/N, please, calm, calm, you are not thinking clearly.” Jon urges, setting you down and turning you to face him.

“Vile, what she said was vile, and untrue, you must know that.” You say, trying to make him understand. The world feels as if it is spinning, a frantic, manic energy ricocheting beneath your skin.

“I know, I know my starlight, I know.” He reassures you, gently running his fingers through your tangled hair.

Your father confines you to your chambers while the maesters look over Jayne, but not without giving you a kiss on the cheek and a fond pat on the hand. Your aunt visits you next and strokes your cheek, with a small but proud smile.

Tommen visits you next, wringing his hands, he should not be having to deal with these things, not when he is so young. Guilt runs through you, washing away any lingering anger.

“Tommen I am so sorry; I should not have lost my temper.”

He shakes his head and buries his hands in his pockets. “I cannot take her tongue y/n, it is too mean, but I can send her home if that would make you feel better?”

You pull him into your arms, he is still a baby in your eyes, sweet Tommen who has never harmed anyone, who loves kittens and his family. “It will, thank you.”

He nods but does not remove himself from your embrace. “I do not think Margaery likes me very much.”

You stiffen, but smooth your hand down his back. “Why do you say that?”

“She never wishes to play with me, she spends all her time writing letters to her cousins, and she only smiles when we do things that she likes, and she likes boring things.”

You release him and sit cross-legged on your rug arranging your skirts out before beckoning Tommen to sit as well as lean his head against your shoulder, fitting himself into your side. “She is quite older than you, which you know, and that can make it difficult for her to find the enjoyment in the things you do. I do not think that means she does like you, though.”

“I see…”

You card your fingers through his hair, you wish Myrcella was here, she always knew what to say to brighten Tommen’s mood. “Is there anything else you wish to speak of?”

“I do not like being king.” He whispers, holding onto your skirts as he did when he was a toddler and wished to be everywhere you were.

“It does not seem to be much fun, but it is a great honor, and you are doing much better than Joffrey did.” You poke him in the side playfully, trying to get him to laugh.

“Do you think you could talk to grandsire and see if he will take me with him back to Casterly Rock?” Tommen asks, looking up at her with tears brimming in his eyes.

“Who would rule then, silly boy?” You ask softly, squeezing him tightly.

“Margaery is better than I at ruling, she is a good queen, she can have the throne I want to go back to the Rock and take Ser Pounce with me.”

Gods you wish it was that simple.

“I will speak with grandsire and see if we cannot spend some time in our ancestral home, once we return to King’s Landing, perhaps you and I can go together.”

Tommen nods and rubs his eyes before laying his head back down on your shoulder. “Can I sit here for a little longer?”

You rest your head atop his, wishing you could spare him this pain. “You can sit with me for as long as you would like.”

Note: Tommen is like 8-9 at this point he's a babyyy, and his life is so stresful :(

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain

#meg's writing #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x you #lannister!reader #Jon Dayne #jon snow imagines

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atopvisenyashill · 8 months

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Thoughts on the Alysanne is Maegor's daughter AU? I feel like it has some interesting potential, and it vastly recontextualizes different parts of Jaehaehae (I do not like him sjsjsjs) and Alysanne's relationship (such as Jaehaehae's treatment of their daughters) but I wanna hear what you think about it!

I’ve touched on this a bit before but since you actually want to hear my thoughts, allow me to present to you my Jaehaerys Is The Goddamn Worst, And Alysanne Annoys Me Too: An Essay lmao but my answer is basically “yeah all of what you just said.”

I think it makes Alysanne much more palatable (to me) as a character because as she stands, she just fixates on forcing her daughters through these fucked up marriages at too young an age bc it traumatized her to be married and pregnant at 15 too but she’d never admit that being a willing participant in her own kidnapping by her brother-husband was the single worst thing that ever happened to her, and because Alysanne doesn’t want to admit it (and Jaehaerys would never see it as wrong or a mistake) F&B really shies away from delving into the fact that Alysanne is as deranged of a mother as Cersei is. So as she stands, she’s very flat to me because she’s presented very flatly and inconsistently. She’s so in love with Jaehaerys, she’s maritally raped by Jaehaerys, she’s a loving and doting mother, she forces her daughters into marriages when they’re the same too young age she was, she accuses her teenage girls of being scheming whores then gets angry when her husband accuses their teenage girls of being scheming whores, and worst of all we are just told “Maegelle tells them to make up so they do” so we don’t know why Alysanne gets over all of this. What is the point of riding a dragon when you never use that dragon to protect your daughters from unwanted teen marriages? We’re just not given a good enough justification for why her behavior is so weird and frustrating towards her daughters.

Make her Maegor’s daughter though…most of her behavior as an adult makes more sense. Like a worse version of Rhaenyra’s childhood almost - a father desperate for a son, but lowkey obsessed with his daughter, who makes all his hang ups about his parents the problems of every woman around him, except Maegor is out here blood sacrificing and torturing and starting wars and forcing babies on wives he discards quickly and brutally. Then here comes Jaehaerys on a white horse green dragon to save her from the horror her life has become, and he loves her so much he runs away with her even though Alyssa says they shouldn’t marry because people won’t like it. And they have beautiful children, and a beautiful marriage, and build a beautiful kingdom.

Then her pregnancies start getting dangerous. Gaemon, then Valerion, die. Alysanne thinks of the shriveled up mutants she called brothers, if Maegor’s taint has passed to her. Her perfect husband ignores her no, and forces Gael on her. Alysanne remembers that he said nothing to Rogar when Alyssa died, merely wept. Then her daughters start to die. Daella, Alyssa, Viserra, all within a few years. Then Jaehaerys makes Saera watch as he murders her boyfriend, calls her a whore, and says Alysanne cannot follow Saera to Lys. Alysanne thinks of Maegor torturing the Harroways over Alys’ presumed infidelity. Jaehaerys says he’s sorry, and her daughter badgers her into forgiving him, and she remembers how she helped Jaehaerys badger Alyssa into forgiving Rogar. Not two years later, Jaehaerys passes over Rhaenys. Alysanne thinks of how she was never enough for her father, how she felt so superior to Rhaena banished to Dragonstone and resented by Aerea, yet there she is dragging Gael away from court because she can’t stand to be with Jaehaerys. How her father was surrounded by dead women and dead babies and how Jaehaerys is surrounded by his own dead daughters, but surely she did the right thing, surely Maegor was worse, surely the realm is better off? Is he right to pass over Rhaenys? Is she enabling a man just as monstrous as her father? She will never decide, because Maegelle will guilt her about keeping Gael isolated at Dragonstone, and Alysanne will do as she’s told, just like Rhaena, and Alyssa, and Jeyne, Elinor, Ceryse, Alys, and Tyanna, just like every one of her daughters.

I do get why Alysanne is Alyssa & Aenys’ and not Maegor’s. The weird Targ babies, the line not descending from Visenya, Jaehaerys and Alysanne being held up as the perfect Targaryen couple specifically because they are brother and sister and dragon riders. I do even think canon Alysanne is likely traumatized by her time as a hostage on Dragonstone, and the ensuing war, and the trauma bond that caused with Jaehaerys, and it makes her idolize Jaehaerys, and then he isolates her at Dragonstone so he can swiftly and safely marry, groom, and knock her up. It’s not like,,,, a fun time, and it’s enough to make anyone crazy and weird about their daughters, but I think having her father be Maegor makes Alysanne herself much deeper because it gives her, as the most beloved Targaryen queen, a blood tie to the most hated Targaryen king, and a marriage to the most beloved Targaryen king. It fits better with a lot of the themes of the main series (again, imo) - forcing the spotlight on the outsiders to see how the affect the story from behind the scenes. The fall of Aegon’s sons, and The Long Reign, not told from the PoV or to serve the PoV of any of the kings or princes, but of the queen that tied them all together.

#anti jaehaerys i targaryen #f&b critical #fire and blood critical #asks #thesadboy #like he kind of does this with aenys & maegor by focusing on alyssa and rhaena and the wives and visenya.#but the Moment jaehaerys enters the scene he completely dominates it. the same way daemon and aemond do actually.#but this is not. it should not!! be their story. that’s not how the main series is told anyway!!#if f&b isn’t told by a dornish maester than it should have been written by a septa!!!#nuns wrote books!!!!!#rich noblewomen wrote novels and poetry!!!!!!!#GEORGE DO YOU READ WOMEN. I AM NO LONGER ASKING POLITELY.#i went to look for her mother and apparently this was just a mistake elio made and i’m even more depressed. i can’t believe i’m saying this #but elio damn your mind.#i bet he saw that and went ‘wait which one is her fucjing mother’ and george was like what in the goddamn hell are you talking about.#idk who would be her mother in this au. if we want to keep her within 3 ish years of jaehaerys it Has to be alys or ceryse. ceryse hightowe #is the hilarious and obvious choice. but don’t count out alys harroway second wife here either.#then there’s rhaena as her mother which with the canon timeline makes him 12 years older and isn’t THAT horrible let’s stop here actually.

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jozor-johai · 2 months

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Ser Arthur and Ser Jaime, the Maiden

Jaime’s knighting by Ser Arthur is, in so many ways, Jaime’s deflowering. I did not come up with this idea on my own—credit to @mylestoyne for pointing this out first, or at least for bringing this idea to my dash—but I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now, and I wanted to do a closer examination of this idea.

It had been years since his last vigil. And I was younger then, a boy of fifteen years. He had worn no armor then, only a plain white tunic. The sept where he’d spent the night was not a third as large as any of the Great Sept’s seven transepts. Jaime had laid his sword across the Warrior’s knees, piled his armor at his feet, and knelt upon the rough stone floor before the altar. When dawn came his knees were raw and bloody. “All knights must bleed, Jaime,” Ser Arthur Dayne had said, when he saw. “Blood is the seal of our devotion.” With dawn he tapped him on the shoulder; the pale blade was so sharp that even that light touch cut through Jaime’s tunic, so he bled anew. He never felt it. A boy knelt; a knight rose. (AFFC Jaime I)

Arthur Dayne reaffirms that “blood is the seal of our devotion,” which is true for this religious vigil just as it is true for the marriage bed. A marriage that is not consummated can be annulled:

Do I need to remind you that a marriage that has not been consummated can be set aside? (ASOS Tyrion IV)

Therefore, the revealing of the bloody sheet after a bedding is proof that the oath of marriage has been matched by a blood oath:

“Did you chance to see the marriage bed the morning after?” Cersei asked. “Did she bleed?” “No sheet was shown, Your Grace.” (AFFC Cersei VI)

So Jaime’s memory of his knighting ceremony is like a metaphorical wedding—and deflowering—in this way.

The imagery of the bloody sheet is present in this knighting ceremony, too. Jaime is cut through his plain white tunic, leaving a bloody mark on his clothing identical to the blood of a maiden on a white sheet.

We can also look to Barbrey Dustin for the significance of a bloody sword used this way:

Brandon was never shy about taking what he wanted. I am old now, a dried-up thing, too long a widow, but I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing, yes. It hurt, but it was a sweet pain. (ADWD The Turncloak)

Like Brandon with Barbrey, we have Arthur Dayne bloodying his sword on Jaime. For his part, Jaime “never felt it,” because of the significance of the moment—not unlike Barbrey, who says it was a “sweet pain.”

Finally, we have the significance of deflowering as representative of the transition to adulthood.

Sex is frequently described as one marker of the transition from boyhood to manhood:

His sweet innocent Tysha had been a lie start to finish, only a whore his brother Jaime had hired to make him a man. (ACOK Tyrion VII)

For Sansa, we see that her blood, as well as the image of the bloody sheet, marks her transition from girlhood to womanhood when she wakes in a bloody bed after “flowering” —a term notable for the implication that she can now be deflowered.

The blood is the seal of your womanhood. (ACOK Sansa IV)

Unpacking the reasons why a girl would ascend to womanhood with a natural process, and not an action, while a boy’s ascension to manhood would be an act would be a whole other issue, but it’s significant here that both situations result in the “bloody sheet,” whether it be Sansa’s flowering, a maiden’s deflowering, or Jaime’s knighting with the blood welling up through his white tunic.

The loss of innocence and skipping manhood

Part of this relationship with Jaime and Arthur is tragic: let’s not forget that Jaime is knighted and then subsequently is elevated to the Kingsguard both at fifteen, after having been entering tourneys and melees at thirteen. While he was clearly capable, there is something tragic about his youth here: this is someone who was clearly barely out of childhood being thrust directly into an adult role without any of the preparation required.

Consider how Jaime thinks of this transformation:

A boy knelt; a knight rose.

He’s skipped over manhood here—he’s gone directly from boy to knight. Soon after this, he will enter the Kingsguard and be expected to take a vow of chastity and forsake his familial ties in service to the king.

Consider a similarly young man—Jon Snow—considering a future in a similarly chaste and isolated role, and the difference in his mentorship here. Benjen warns him that he is too young to understand what he is entering, and tries to insist Jon live more of his life—to become a man first, and then a Man of the Watch:

Uncle Benjen studied his face carefully. “The Wall is a hard place for a boy, Jon.” “I am almost a man grown,” Jon protested. “I will turn fifteen on my next name day, and Maester Luwin says bastards grow up faster than other children.” “That’s true enough,” Benjen said with a downward twist of his mouth. He took Jon’s cup from the table, filled it fresh from a nearby pitcher, and drank down a long swallow. … “You don’t know what you’re asking, Jon. The Night’s Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor.” “A bastard can have honor too,” Jon said. “I am ready to swear your oath.” “You are a boy of fourteen,” Benjen said. “Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up.” “I don’t care about that!” Jon said hotly. “You might, if you knew what it meant,” Benjen said. “If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son.” Jon felt anger rise inside him. “I’m not your son!” Benjen Stark stood up. “More’s the pity.” He put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Come back to me after you’ve fathered a few bastards of your own, and we’ll see how you feel.” (AGOT Jon I)

Benjen fails to convince Jon, of course, but he tries to warn Jon of this experience, of the tragedy of growing up too suddenly.

Jaime receives no such warning, especially not from Ser Arthur Dayne; instead, Dayne coldly acknowledges that “all knights must bleed,” even those who are fifteen.

This too is a common theme with this loss of virginity, especially in connection with a sudden ascension to power. At the same age Jaime was entering and winning melees against grown men, Daenerys Targaryen was losing her virginity to Khal Drogo and cementing her role as khaleesi. With her, the shock of her young age is much more clear, and GRRM makes it much more clear, closing a chapter with these haunting words:

They were on the far side of the Dothraki sea when Jhiqui brushed the soft swell of Dany’s stomach with her fingers and said, “Khaleesi, you are with child.” “I know,” Dany told her. It was her fourteenth name day. (AGOT Daenerys III)

However, she’s in a similar situation as Jaime. Whereas Jaime’s deflowering was metaphorical as he bypassed manhood and ascended from boyhood to knighthood, Dany’s deflowering is literal—with all associated horrors—as she ascends suddenly from girlhood to the role of khaleesi.

Like Jaime, this is tragic, and we shouldn’t forget that it should not be the responsibility of one so young to bear the weight of a khalasar, of her blood and heritage, and of her for a lost people. Like with Jaime, whose childhood becomes increasingly sad the more we learn of its nonexistence and corruption, we should not forget to mourn Dany’s age and loss of childhood even when we cheer her successes.

The Kingsguard White

As an aside: especially since Jaime and Arthur enter the Kingsguard later, we can also imagine the bloody white Kingsguard cloak, another even better analogue for the bloody sheet of a deflowered maiden. This image appears in a major way elsewhere when Sandor visits Sansa at night and leaves behind his bloody Kingsguard cloak.

Since the Kingsguard are expected to hold to their vow of chastity, we can see the bloodying of the Kingsguard cloak to be as much a deflowering as the bloodying of the white sheet on wedding night. For the Kingsguard, who share the same notion of chastity-as-purity as a virginal maiden, this deflowering can almost be seen as identical: it is the loss of innocence, chastity, and purity all in one.

Consider the circumstances that lead one to bloody the Kingsguard cloak, however: simply the act of killing, an act which is expected and demanded of the Kingsguard from the moment of their initiation.

Killing is the realm of knights, as Sandor points out to Sansa:

“Just as if I was one of those true knights you love so well, yes. What do you think a knight is for, girl? You think it’s all taking favors from ladies and looking fine in gold plate? Knights are for killing.” (ACOK Sansa IV)

So it is no surprise that Jaime’s deflowering—and loss of innocence—comes with his ascension from boyhood to knighthood.

A boy knelt; a knight rose.

However, it is therefore ironic that all Kingsguard are expected to be knights, and knights are meant for killing, and yet killing results in the red blood spatter on the white Kingsguard cloak, a symbol of their metaphorical virginal purity and chastity lost.

Here, then, we see that the bloody white cloak, when placed in comparison to the bloody sheet of the maiden’s wedding bed, illustrates the inherent contradiction of the Kingsguard.

In this scene with Jaime and Arthur, we see that this begins from the moment of knighthood: Arthur initiates Jaime into a world where “all knights must bleed.”

The myth of Maidenhood (and it’s significance)

I do want to add a disclaimer that I know (and we should all know in this century) that the concept of a virgin bleeding when she loses her virginity is pretty much a myth, and that if there is blood with penetration it has nothing to do with the “virginal” nature of the woman and rather more to do with arousal or other circumstances.

GRRM includes a passage, eventually, that seems to hint that even in Westeros, this is unofficially understood to be a myth, even as the practice of “examining” to prove the maidenhood of those marrying the king is still carried out, and even as the “bloody sheet” of the wedding night is still trotted out to appease family and tradition.

“Did you chance to see the marriage bed the morning after?” Cersei asked. “Did she bleed?” “No sheet was shown, Your Grace.”A pity. Still, the absence of a bloody sheet meant little, by itself. Common peasant girls bled like pigs upon their wedding nights, she had heard, but that was less true of highborn maids like Margaery Tyrell. A lord’s daughter was more like to give her maidenhead to a horse than a husband, it was said, and Margaery had been riding since she was old enough to walk. (AFFC Cersei VI)

Cersei, at least, has an understanding that the “maidenhead,” and perhaps even “maidenhood” does not actually work the way that is believed, although this even is a poor excuse for an explanation because it still allows for the existence of the myth elsewhere, and for allowing the idea that the “maidenhead” will bleed, only not in the ways that are alleged.

Since this concept of the virgin bleeding is really an outdated myth with little real-life relevance and yet is foregrounded so often in the story, I tend to imagine that GRRM has included and highlighted the concept so frequently because there is some non-literal importance to the idea or the symbols it offers.

For one, it’s one way to being the ever-present blood motif to yet another relationship, which I think is probably the key point here. Blood is a huge motif in ASOIAF; it appears in many different contexts with many layered meanings. There’s blood sacrifice, blood magic, blood heritage, blood ties, blood oaths, bloody weirwood sap, bloody weddings, blood sausage, blood and fire, black blood, etc etc. Being able to add blood into the wedding rite offers beneficial symbolic opportunities.

In that vein, highlighting the concept of “virgins bleeding” allows for a lot of the comparisons between swords and penises I’ve mentioned above which I assume are thematically central because of the penetration of Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa.

Arthur Dayne

The one remaining notion here is that which I began to think about this scene with.

While Jaime spends so much of his storyline unpacking what this means for him, I wonder what this interaction says about Ser Arthur Dayne, who played this role in Jaime’s life?

If it’s about devotion and oaths, what does this deflowering say about Dayne’s relationship to Jaime’s relationship with oaths? If it’s about innocence, what does this say about Dayne’s relationship to Jaime’s innocence? If it’s about sex, what does this say about Dayne’s relationship to sex?

What does it mean for Dayne’s character that he’s the one who metaphorically took Jaime’s innocence here?

Or, alternatively, perhaps this says something about Dayne more directly. “All knights must bleed” and “blood is the seal of our devotion” may be true in the grander sense of Westerosi culture, but they’re hardly normal things to say. Does this say something about Dayne’s attitude specifically?

Should we be seeing this as Dayne personally being somewhat responsible for Jaime’s loss of innocence? Should we be seeing this act of metaphorical penetration as a power dynamic which Dayne is specifically enforcing?

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #jozor thoughts #valyrianscrolls #jaime lannister #asoiaf analysis #arthur dayne

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1800naveen · 1 month

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SJM fans gotta be quiet

Saw some chick on tik tok say some bullshit. "HBO should adapt Throne of Glass instead of giving us more got spinoffs and it could be better than game of thrones."

Delete the app now. Get rid of it. Pack your bags, you're getting sent off to delulu land.

That would be plagiarism if it got adapted. COPYRIGHT, HOE.

I would rather watch George RR Martin take a fat fucking shit in front of my eyes and destroy the damn toilet.

"Don't you like throne of glass?" Yes, I do and I don't care.

Are SJM fans not aware of the world of a song of ice and fire? It's not only game of thrones?? GOT comes from A song of ice and fire (the main series) and House of the Dragon comes from Fire and Blood (basically a history book).

George has written one of the best worldbuilding I've seen in books, Sarah wish she could come up with that. It's so damn beautiful, I could shed a tear. Sarah's worldbuilding got some plot holes, confusing magic systems, and other stuff that don't make sense if you think into it.

Both got weird things in their stories, I can't lie. But George somehow finds a way to mostly have a reason for it (Not all of it though, not all of it. Targs gonna Targ with the inbreeding.) In A Court of Wings and Ruin, there are twins named Dagdan and Brannagh which are incestuous for no reason at all. It says they're sexual partners on the wiki page. Knock off Jaime and Cersei? Wait, that goes to Mor and Cassian. She had no reason for them to be partners like what the hell??

The amount of stories that could be turned into shows (small edit because I fucked up and put stories again)from George's work? That's much more than SJM's. Like we got another show coming out about King Aegon V and Duncan the tall (A knight of the seven kingdoms), one about Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys and the conquest for Westeros, Corlys and his nine voyages (The sea snake). The entirety of Fire and Blood could get adapted on screen.

We could still get shows adapted to the big screen even after George leaves this earth (peepaw is old, I'm worried and hoping he's staying healthy.)

Examples are:

Robert's rebellion

Nymeria's war

Old Valyria and how it came to an end

The Blackfyre rebellions

The Golden Empire of Yi Ti (not much is known on the place so I really want this)

Snow (This was shelved because they didn't have anything to work with, not a shocker)

The Amethyst Empress and the Bloodstone Emperor (she was usurped by her younger brother and when she died, the long night came to the world. Sound familiar?)

The Long Night and Azor Ahai

Great Empire of the Dawn

Maegor's entire reign. It's so wild.

Jaehaerys, Alysanne, and their children. Would love to see that.

They need to stop acting like fools when they say this shit. YOU WOULDN'T HAVE THRONE OF GLASS IF A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE DIDN'T EXIST. REMEMBER WHAT CAME FIRST.

Here's a post I made about throne of glass and asoiaf.

Anyways, that's enough of my yapping. Till then when another Sarah J mASS fan makes me mad✌🏾✌🏾

#a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #house of the dragon #george rr martin #sjm #sjm critical #anti sjm #throne of glass #anti booktok #just yappin #rant #anti throne of glass

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Please tell us you’ll do a part 2 for your head canon about Leon’s girlfriend finding out about Ada and Claire. Surely he wouldn’t just let her run off like that if he loves her.

All you need to know is that while I was writing this part, I listened to "I Love How You Lie" - Eminem feat. Rihanna. At least twenty times. Maybe more.

There is no physical violence here, but you can see a broken Lеon when his girlfriend left for TWO months without explanation. Fuck knows why Tumbler gave me some character restrictions in the last post, but out of fear I shortened some part of the text. (And this time there were no such gifts)

Tornado meets volcano.

So, a few people asked for the second part and I translated it as far as I could into English. Enjoy it if you can.

I like this text. I consider this one of my best works (I think it looks much better on the original).

If you need a translation of the third part, then let me know. Because of the fucking restriction, I'm not sure it's worth putting this whole story out.

As Cersei Lannister once said, "Love is poison. Yes, it is sweet, but it kills no worse than any other".

Because of one man, you have no desire to go out into the daylight, there is no reason to smile or laugh. The realization that for Leon you were nothing more than a beautiful doll still makes the heart bleed and quietly cry into the pillow looking for salvation in the night while everyone is sleeping.

It seems that there will be no end to this pain, and your hero turned out to be the main villain in your story, because of which you suffer. You allowed yourself to be deceived, you allowed yourself to be played with. You're the one who let a stranger become someone close. You're the one who let Leon rip out his heart, leaving a gaping wound that's slowly rotting away.

Nevertheless, you still miss his warm, slightly rough hands at night, who hugged you tightly, hugging you on cool nights. Now this whole stupid story reminds of how the moth flew into the light and eventually burned to the ground, so that only ashes remained of it. The truth is that the fire is Leon, and you are a stupid moth that has gone out. Although now, looking at the night sky, pressing your knees to your stomach, hugging yourself tightly, despite the great loss, you hope one day to start shining brighter than comets again.

Carey called last week, telling the latest news and gossip, not forgetting to mention your boyfriend who came to college looking for you, but she lied to him saying she didn't know where you were and where you disappeared. Leon hardly believed it, but he was not a man who beat the truth out of others. At least not from stupid students. But your happiness is that he did not know where your parents' house was, which means that in any case his search will not be successful.

You're very happy about it. Here you allow yourself to walk through the fields, remembering your youth and go with your father to the forest, just like in childhood jumping on the biggest stones. In the evening, the old man plays guitar to you and your mother while you and her clean up the dishes after a hearty dinner. Here at home, your wounds don't ache so much from the pain, and you look with laughter at the childhood photos taken by your mother in Calcutta, when you wrapped yourself in someone's sari trying to repeat the movements of Indian dancers. Flipping through the pages, you came across a photo with your fifth birthday, where you joyfully got dirty with a birthday cake.

And while your parents were laughing, you suddenly remembered that for some reason Leon didn't have more than one child's photo. Then, for some reason, he still said that his parents died quite early, but it was a sore subject that the two of you never touched on with him again. But he really liked to hear about your childhood adventures.

So you thought…

You so wanted to escape from the noisy city, away from Leon, and now involuntarily the soul is drawn to him. Although it doesn't make sense to dream about a summer together anymore. You had a wonderful, romantic love. You left Leon your dream of living together, but he never touched on the topic of future family with you.

It was really funny. Your father still doesn't like your first high school crush, even though you were fifteen and there was nothing between you and this guy but a chaste kiss on the cheek, this guy was forever blacklisted by your father. To make him think about Leon, who was twelve years older? Most likely, he would have tried to shoot him with his hunting rifle.

All the things, books, clothes, cosmetics, even the phone - everything is left with Leon and you will have to come back for them anyway. However, the mere thought of the collision of these sapphire eyes makes, the body goosebumps. You can lick your wounds at home, but there…all the scabs will open up again if only he touches you. If he suddenly says that Ada does not matter to him, however, by that smile and the compact in his bedside table, you realized that she would always be in the first place for him.

I wonder how long he's been looking for you? You called your friend because you wanted to clarify (and once again slash at the heart with a sharp knife of truth) whether Leon appeared in college or tried to reach you through friends, but the truth is cruel: he wasn't looking for you. Of course, it was probably stupid to worry, but you hoped that you meant something to him at least a little.

Leon has become your sweet poison.

Somehow, all thoughts returned to him alone. You are ready to fall into the abyss after him, get a hundred bullets instead of him, but it was his bullet that killed you.

Therefore, no matter how much you love him, the mind, and not the remnants of feelings, tells you a reasonable "Let him go." This is what needs to be done, and it will be the right thing to do.

Unfortunately, Leon is not the hero of Tolkien's beautiful story. He is not Beren, and you are not his Luthien. Funny comparison… But this is an analgesic balm, so you can stand firmly at the door of the apartment from which you escaped a little more than two months ago.

However, uncertainty again knocked down your legs at the very last minute, turning you into a mess with swollen red eyes, drowning in a puddle of your own tears. But to hell with it! You weren't tempted to listen to his voice or reread old messages, so why the hell are all these fucking feelings coming back out?! The cleaner handed you the keys and you exhaled with relief, hoping that you would have time to pick up all the things before Leon returned and then the need for an explanation would disappear by itself.

You will simply disappear from his life. He will cherish his love for Ada Wong or find someone who will not mind being a replacement for this irreplaceable woman.

But you cross the threshold of the house, leaving the keys on the bedside table, intending to finish it as soon as possible. This person is not capable of loving you, and by and large your days together are numbered. This is what you repeat to yourself, pulling out of the closet a large suitcase and a bag, alternately putting your things there.

Yes, you notice a few bottles of alcohol in the kitchen, a mess and your phone. Leon unlocked it, and you think that maybe he decided to check your correspondence or recent calls, but he definitely didn't find anything "criminal". Because Ada Wong didn't write to you.

Without wasting precious time, you continue packing, still taking the phone and putting it in your coat pocket. Your blouses, dresses, underwear…actually, you wouldn't mind quickly changing into more comfortable clothes than the one you took from home. But still discarding the thought of changing clothes, you zipped up suitcase, grabbing an empty bag with her free hand to put all the cosmetics there. You turn around to go to the dressing table and…freeze.

Leon.

He tricked you. He wasn't on your side. Burn it with fire, but he will not see you in tears. You won't stay with him and let him tear you to pieces. You are not the heroine of Lana Del Rey's music video…

But Leon was just silently watching your hurried movements. With those deep bruises under his eyes and a faraway look. He looked so exhausted that you wanted to go up to him and kiss him almost on a reflex level, but your brain was still saying "let him go! Save the remnants of your poor heart!"

You thought one thing, and Leon did not understand why you poured caustic poison on him in this way, running away without explaining anything. Smouldering like a coal, he was still just glad to see you alive and unharmed. And yet the sandcastle that he was building with you was now being destroyed on his hands.

The only thing Leon knows is that if he loses you, he will lose his only home.

"I can't…I'm leaving you," you whispered, still fiddling with the strap of the bag, watching the light blue eyes darken in an instant.

"What do you mean?" - Leon takes the bag out of your hands, throwing it on the bed at the same time looking strangely at the already packed suitcase. - "Baby, if you've been wanting to tell me something for a long time, then you should have done it, and not run the devil knows where without money and a phone. What was I supposed to think? Where have you been? You haven't been to college for two months!"

My God, your body is screaming again, as it did then: "Run." Although it was a lie. Leon's voice remains even, calm… and gentle. Just don't run away from him. His hand gently grabs your palm, warming it, forcing the blood to circulate through your veins. He's been so damn worried, missed you so much, that he seriously thinks he'd rather tie you to a bed and set the fucking house on fire than let you leave.

"I'm not her. But I'm not a fucking piece of cake that you can take whenever you see fit. I loved you, but I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to talk to you and know you."

The good question is, who is going to hurt who now? Some part of you wants to cause him at least a fraction of the pain that you experienced, while Leon becomes a shadow of his former self in front of your eyes from these words. You fucking promised him! Be with him!

"I'm not Ada Wong. I'm not a mysterious spy. But I'm not your toy either, Leon. I'm the fucking person whose feelings you played with! When I loved you so much that it went beyond sanity, you loved a completely different woman!"

You're crying, turning away from him to grab the remnants of things and throw them into a fucking bag and run far, far away to start all over again. Away from Leon and his woman in red. The main thing is that he does not look at you with that sad, tired look, otherwise you will not stand it and burst into tears out loud. Do you want to yell at him when he asks one simple question, "Is it because of Ada? Is she the reason you left?"

But you turn around abruptly.

"No. The reason is you, not her. You hurt me. Not Ada. She's the part of you that you'll never let go of. "

This quote and the compact should be enough for him to understand. But it drives to lose your mind. Your love melts when you look at him and listen to his tacit consent. He would never let this woman go. And you still have some remnants of pride. "Maybe you're right." - This is what finally breaks your love. Next to him, you become quieter, smaller…Leon won another round, and you lost to him. Your heartbeat slows down, but his words finally force you not to let him touch you.

"Good" - Your lips whispered it so simply. As if it doesn't hurt at all. "I'm leaving."

"Don't!" - Almost a plea, but you jump away from Leon when he grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you to him. Despite how much you missed him, now in order to save yourself, your brain began to make a monster out of him. "I won't let you go. I love you, you know that! That should be enough!"

"But it's not enough! You love her and you will always choose her from the two of us. I'm not coming back to you anymore. I'm NOT her replacement! I won't fall into these nets anymore!

This is your end.

The last point. You don't know how to continue to believe in better days, but it's time to part. It's time to leave and forget this feeling. You resist when Leon tries to hold you to him. This is what tears apart. You just loved him. Your emotions are in a mess, you don't even realize right away that you are choking on the howl of that same beaten dog. How can you love and hate him at the same time?

That's all. Leave. Run. But you fall to your knees because you can't do anything against him! You love him so much! Whether he's a monster or a scoundrel. What should you do? It shouldn't be like that at all.

"Angel, believe me! It has not been as important as it used to be for a long time. I love you. That message doesn't mean anything!" - His hands hold you tightly by the waist, not allowing you to leave. He also loves you no less than you love him. Why didn't you just tell him what was bothering you? - "You are my love."

He's fucking lying. He wasn't even looking for you.

"Let me go!" - You scream, remembering all the nights with him without sleep, when everything was fine. You want to believe in this fucking lie, but in order to escape, you grab the very last thread, strike a fatal blow: "I don't love you anymore!"

It was painful. Leon feels a ringing in his ears and wants to loosen his grip at the last second, but for some reason he leans against the top of your head, still hoping that you are lying.

"It is not true." You both knew that. You heard only a pulse pounding and one boundless silence. You would be ashamed to look at yourself in the mirror, but Leon turns you over to face him, wiping the wet tracks of tears on his swollen cheeks with his thumbs. - "I don't believe it. Princess, if you would tell me…I was going crazy. You ran away without even explaining anything. Do you really believe that I could hurt you? I love you, not her. That's all you need to know. I will always choose you."

"I want to leave." Leon nods negatively, feeling a lump in his throat, but you want to leave him. You've already decided everything. Even for the first time, only now he continues to deprive you of strength, being your biggest weakness. Even if you feel calm right now, burying your nose in his neck, you have to do it.

"Please don't say that…"

"But it's true!"

Leon's hands close around your waist as he kisses your temple. He has found you and right now he is holding you in his arms not so that you will leave. Not so that everything that you both have been building for so long will collapse. He doesn't need tears to hurt. He needs you.

And again a single tear falls from your eyelashes. Why is he lying to your face? Why did you become his victim? But you can't order your heart and you can't lie to your soul - you want your love for him to disappear like a bird in the sky, what a pity that miracles don't happen.

You are bound by these hands and absolutely unarmed. Hell, you can't even leave as beautifully as Ada always does.

"You don't want that, I know. Please baby…We can talk about it. Look at me." - You're doing it. Idiot. You look at him when his gentle touches become rough, as long as you just don't look away. Unlikely you could have turned your head even a couple of degrees. - "It's all good."

It would be better if you died now. There is no doubt in your sincere love… he will always come back to her. Therefore, not a damn thing is all right! You're not okay! It's you who are suffering from agony, while he just needs the warmth of a young body.

This is what you shout at him, pushing him away from you, getting to your feet, grabbing a suitcase. You don't care about anything anymore! You're running away forever. Leon's reaction, however, is faster than yours, and he manages to intercept you faster than you get to the open door, throwing the damn suitcase aside.

You are probably the unluckiest girl.

A familiar record of Leon's promises that he loves you. He pinned you against the wall, hanging like a mighty rock, cutting off escape routes. At this moment, you do not have enough air, as if the breathing taps have been blocked.

"Princess…" - You smile bitterly. A princess who was banished from her own kingdom and from his heart. You turn from a princess into a prisoner. It was he who left you a deep crater instead of a heart. -"You're not her, but that's why I'm with you. I don't love you for your body. If I wanted a beautiful girl for the night, then this relationship would never have happened."

"Please go" - The request hidden from the lips responds with a dull pain inside Leon. Taking a step towards you, he bumps into an obstacle from your hands that have fallen on his chest. - "I don't want to be second place anymore."

All Leon is thinking about at this very second, while you are tearing his skin and flesh getting to his heart in shreds, which bastard drove this thought into your head?

You're the reason he's still alive. How can you want to leave him after he has allowed you to become a part of his life? He's been looking for you these fucking two months! Sometimes, in a frenzy, I rushed after every passerby thinking that it was you. You are his most beloved person, so how can you leave him?

Why has everything changed so much? Because of that stupid message from Ada and the compact, which he hadn't thought about for a long time. He just threw it away and forgot, not thinking that you can find it, but if you find it…Why didn't you just ask him about it?! He would have gotten rid of this item in front of you!

You have to stay. But you had different points of view on the situation.

He couldn't fucking sleep in a shared bed, thinking about where you were and who you were with. What if you had actually been killed in an alley somewhere? But the way your friend calmly said that he allegedly knew nothing about your whereabouts made him calm down, because he was sure that this girl was not one of those who are in the dark. So you were either with her or at least safe.

The thought of another man who could touch you the way he touched you turned him inside out. You couldn't run off to another guy to hurt him even more. That's not your style.

"You always came first." - It's true, but why the hell do you think it's a lie? How can you think that he has someone else?! What the fuck is wrong with you? - "Since came into my life. All I ever wanted was you."

Leon wants this whole two-month performance to be a fucking manipulation. God, he'll forgive you for your stupidity. He will strip you naked, hold you close and tell you that he loves you very much. The main thing is not to leave. He'll take you wherever you want, just stay with him. Don't lie to him that you don't love him!

"I don't believe you." - The end. - "You're right, my heart is full of blind love for you, but enough of this torment. My biggest mistake is to think that you loved me too. I'm tired of this pain, and if I stay here, it will kill me once. I want to be happy. But to become one of them, you don't have to be in my life! Аlthough I love the way you lie."

"Don't say that!" - Leon grabbed you, hugging you to him, which is why the familiar smell of cologne hit you in the nose, which made you want to close your eyes, enjoying it. You become a disassembled puzzle in his hands again. - "I've never lied to you! Not a single day. Princess, Ada was an important part of my life. However, what I feel for her is nothing compared to what I felt for you. Believe in it."

And that's what you want. It seems that only one step separates you from the possibility of leaving. You pressed against his shoulder-so strong, warm, safe, while his palm covered the back of your head.

So weak. Grabbed him by the back, giving a spark of hope that you will stay. Instilling in him the hope that now he will calm you down and you will put on these shackles again when he puts you on the bed and makes love sex to you.

You thought it would be easier to do.

"That's it. It's all good. I'm here with you. You're with me." - Leon's voice is shaking. If you believe him now… remember the compact in his bedside table. Push him away! Save yourself! - "I love you."

He is the one who kisses your tears from your cheeks and nose. He holds your neck, so it seems he can squeeze it until it crunches in order to end your life, but Leon just strokes the skin with his thumb.

Leon's heartbeat slows down, returning to a normal rhythm. And you are his little favorite toy, which he takes away from the door, confident that everything is in the past. Sure he convinced you. And you take six whole steps forward with him, glancing at the suitcase he threw.

Your pulse is pounding in your temples. If you stay, then only God will know how much loneliness you can endure. Leon may not be cheating on you physically, but his thoughts will always be with the woman in red. With Ada. He will always come back to her.

If you stay, you will lose yourself forever. You suddenly thought that one day you would want children, but Leon's work does not imply their presence. Then even they won't be your outlet. And one day, the best solution would be to just kill yourself. Poison, knife, rope… you will be so broken by him that you will absolutely not care.

You're leaving. Point.

Don't forget about all the happy moments that he gave you, but don't you dare let him destroy you!

If you can't leave like Ada, then do it your way. Even if it looks ugly and pathetic. You may look like a beaten dog, but you will be ALIVE.

Someday this day will be just a nightmare from which you could wake up. Just find a little strength in yourself to take the handle of the suitcase and… leave.

Then you bend down, grab the handle and lift your luggage off the floor as Leon takes a few small steps away from you, intending to remove the empty bottles and finally throw Ada's compact away. He knows that you picked up the suitcase and for ten whole seconds was sure that you just want to put things back in their places.

So scary.

Both him and you.

"Sorry." - You exhale. It's so complicated. Either God is such a masochist, or you yourself. Leon looks at you and doesn't believe you. Some strange smile appears on his lips mixed with despair.

"Sweetheart, wait."

"Goodbye Leon"

And you're really leaving him.

You run out of the apartment like the first time, leaving him alone. But you won't come back.

Your days together were numbered.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #reader #re

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jackoshadows · 9 months

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No doubt Tyrion Lannister is a morally grey character, especially with regards to his treatment of women. Nevertheless, when I come across some posts, it hits me how so much of the hate/critique directed towards the character is because of ableism, just like in the books.

Brienne of Tarth maybe at the top of a morally good scale, but even she is susceptible to bigoted propaganda like every other character in the world of Westeros. It's up to us as impartial and enlightened readers to parse through her thoughts and opinions and agree or disagree with her instead of just accepting that she is right because she is good.

Lady Catelyn had said that Sansa was a gentle soul who loved lemon cakes, silken gowns, and songs of chivalry, yet the girl had seen her father's head lopped off and been forced to marry one of his killers afterward. If half the tales were true, the dwarf was the cruelest Lannister of all. If she did poison King Joffrey, the Imp surely forced her hand. She was alone and friendless at that court. In King's Landing, Brienne had hunted down a certain Brella, who had been one of Sansa's maids. The woman told her that there was little warmth between Sansa and the dwarf. Perhaps she had been fleeing him as well as Joffrey's murder. - Brienne, AFfC

IMO, Brienne is wrong because on a scale of Lannister cruelty (Tywin, Cersei, Jaime, Joffrey) Tyrion has in actuality been the least cruel Lannister of them all - especially towards the Stark kids, including bastard Jon and disabled Bran. And yet a consistent theme in the books is that Tyrion gets the most hate from the people because of his disability.

Even Brienne's last point of Sansa specifically fleeing from Tyrion stands out because we see from Sansa's own POV in the vale that she considers Tyrion an option to escape to if he had been alive.

The man Brienne loves and defends - Jaime Lannister - has tried to murder one Stark child, attempted to maim and cut off the hand of another Stark child and forced himself on Cersei. If Jaime had been in KL instead of being taken prisoner, he would have continued being Cersei's henchman and supported his sister and their son while they abused Sansa as opposed to Tyrion stepping in and putting an end to the beatings. Jaime has been verbally abusive and cruel to Brienne herself.

Hell, even when they are parting, Jaime tells Brienne to not save the poor child being send off to marry Ramsay Bolton.

"With a sword at my throat, but never mind. Lady Catelyn's dead. I could not give her back her daughters even if I had them. And the girl my father sent with Steelshanks was not Arya Stark." "Not Arya Stark?" "You heard me. My lord father found some skinny northern girl more or less the same age with more or less the same coloring. He dressed her up in white and grey, gave her a silver wolf to pin her cloak, and sent her off to wed Bolton's bastard." He lifted his stump to point at her. "I wanted to tell you that before you went galloping off to rescue her and got yourself killed for no good purpose. You're not half bad with a sword, but you're not good enough to take on two hundred men by yourself." - Jaime, ASoS

Despite all this, while Brienne thinks positively of Jaime because he's beautiful and saved her, Tyrion is the worst of all the Lannisters because everyone says so. Brienne feels pity for poor Sansa being forced to marry the imp but what of the poor girl the Lannisters - Jaime included - are sending off to marry Ramsay Bolton. We all know what poor Jeyne Poole has been through.

Not defending Tyrion's marriage to Sansa here because that was wrong. However, the fact that Brienne thinks Tyrion was even crueler than Cersei and Joffrey towards Sansa and that it was Tyrion who forced poor, gentle Sansa to murder Joffrey should tell us that even Brienne is not without her biases and unquestioningly accepts Westerosi bigotry.

Let's take the character of Jon Snow. One could argue that he is a character closer to Brienne on a morality scale, as one of the good guys. However, the fun aspect here is that if one puts Brienne of Tarth and Jon Snow together they would end up disagreeing on Catelyn Stark and Tyrion Lannister.

This is not a point to argue which character is good or bad except that characters form relationships based on their personal interactions and experiences rather than whether characters are good or bad and this is why GRRM argues all his characters are morally grey.

The Old Bear shrugged. "A boy king … I imagine he'll listen to his mother. A pity the dwarf isn't with them. He's the lad's uncle, and he saw our need when he visited us. It was a bad thing, your lady mother taking him captive—" "Lady Stark is not my mother," Jon reminded him sharply. Tyrion Lannister had been a friend to him. If Lord Eddard was killed, she would be as much to blame as the queen. " - Jon VII, AGoT

Here is Jon defending Tyrion and assigning equal blame to Catelyn and Cersei if any harm befell Ned Stark. Keep in mind that even after knowing Sansa and Tyrion are married, Jon does not show an iota of the concern Brienne shows for Sansa. Instead his thoughts are for Tyrion, finding it hard to imagine the man he shook hands with and called friend as a kinslayer.

"It is not my intent to choose any side," said Jon, "but I am not as certain of the outcome of this war as you seem to be, my lord. Not with Lord Tywin dead." If the tales coming up the kingsroad could be believed, the King's Hand had been murdered by his dwarf son whilst sitting on a privy. Jon had known Tyrion Lannister, briefly. He took my hand and named me friend. It was hard to believe the little man had it in him to murder his own sire, but the fact of Lord Tywin's demise seemed to be beyond doubt. "The lion in King's Landing is a cub, and the Iron Throne has been known to cut grown men to ribbons." - Jon, ADwD

Jon's personal experiences define his opinions just as Brienne's personal experiences define hers. Brienne's admiration for Lady Catelyn means that she agrees with all of Cat's opinions and has sympathy for Catelyn's daughter. In fact if Catelyn had talked of Jon Snow, Brienne would think of Jon as a treacherous bastard out to steal the Stark birthright like Catelyn warned Robb that Jon or Jon's children would do.

Remember when the Blackfish casts aspersions on Jon Snow's character because his sister has told him that the bastard was not to be trusted? We would see Brienne think the same way because she has never met Jon Snow and would trust in Catelyn's opinions of him.

Would we then unquestionably accept Brienne's opinions of Jon Snow because she's a good person? I doubt it. Brienne's opinions of Tyrion as the cruelest Lannister - when Cersei and Jaime are right there - should similarly not be taken at face value and instead attributed to the bigotry that has surrounded Tyrion for as long as he has lived.

#Tyrion Lannister #Brienne of Tarth #Jon Snow

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writingsofwesteros · 2 years

Note

so i’ve never seen you writing fro cersei so feel free to ignore this request if you don’t like it.

i was thinking mother in low cersei punishing reader, margaery’s little sister, because she’s going to marry tommen. she just wants the best for his son and she’s ready to remind her of her position even if she’ll be future queen. maybe then cersei will try to correct her more times just for fun. she likes her all bothered, humiliated and also a little bit pleasured.

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

The Queen mother’s delicate fingers moved through your long, thick brown locks as you looked innocently through the mirror to her. “Thank you for helping me.” You whispered; the quiet had you growing nervous as well as being in the room with the famous Lioness. Gods, you wished your sister was in your place.

“Hmm, my son deserves the best.” Cersei whispered; enjoying how tense you were a little more than she should. The lioness had enjoyed the sight of your bitch of a grandmother as her face fell when the Queen picked you. The sweet, innocent rose with no thorns that would be so easy to manipulate.

You chewed on your plump, bottom lip nervously at her words. You did not believe you were the best and something inside you thought the Queen did not either. “It would seem I have my work cut out in making you the best.” She purred into your ear and watched as you gulped at her closeness.

Her hand gently rested on your shoulder that the beautiful blue, highgarden style sat with. It showed off your smooth skin that the Queen was now stroking. “I am sure you will not disappoint me.” Cersei hummed as her hand moved over your shoulder now and down the valley of your breasts.

A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes widened at her touch. Goosebumps quickly rushed over your soft skin. “Hmm, will you?” She whispered; her soft lips brushing against your ear as she cupped one of your ample breasts. “Cersei…” You whimpered out in shock; your lips parting.

Her fingers brushed against your easily pebbling nipple as you began to move in your seat, trying to hide from her. “Shh, pretty one.” Cersei hummed, slowly moving around the table. “Let us make you presentable.” She purred and watched in delight as a blush made its way over your cheeks.

Her hand moved onto your thigh now and you nearly jumped. The act had her chuckling as she leaned closer. “You will be good, will you not?” Cersei whispered as you lost yourself in her eyes for a moment before finding the strength to nod your head. “Yes, promise..” You whispered out; her hand slowly moving higher.

She watched as your pretty little eyes widened in anticipation before she slowly leaned in. Her soft lips brushing against yours. You were shocked and whined as her tongue moved in. You clumsily tried to pull away but her free hand moved to the back of your neck and pulled you closer.

“It seems I will have to teach you to kiss.” The queen hummed as she leaned away. Your eyes glazed over as you stared at her in shock. She took that moment to move her hand in between your legs. “Oh, at least you get wet.” She taunted you as your legs clamped together; trapping her.

Her chuckles echoed around the room as her knuckles brushed against your weeping, bare folds. “If I didn't know better, I would say you wanted this.” Cersei purred, pushing her knuckle against your clit that had you jolting from the chair. Your eyes still wide as you not so gracefully moved to stand.

All Cerise did was smirk at you; her soaked fingers moving to her mouth and her tongue moved over them.

“I do apologise, my Lord, I’m sure the little rose will remember your name next time.” Cersei purred to the man in front of her. Gods, you had not even noticed his presence. How could you when the Queen’s fingers were stuffed inside your weeping pussy and had been since the feast had started.

“Say sorry.” She whispered into your ear; her fingers pushing deeper as she leaned close. “..Apologies..I..I hope you enjoy your evening.” You babbled out. Your cheeks flushed as you stuttered but it seemed to be enough for the man who only bowed his head before turning around.

“It seems I have my work cut out for me.” Cersei whispered into your ear and watched in delight at your humiliation. Gods, you were so fun to play with. She had chosen well. “I believe we might need some lessons.” She continued to whisper; her fingers began to move now whilst her thumb brushed over your clit.

“I wonder..will you need lessons in the bedroom too.” She purred and pinched your clit without warning. A sharp cry escaped you as you reached to cling to the table in front of you. Thankfully, the music of the feast was loud and attentions were elsewhere whilst unfortunately for you, the Queen’s attention was for you only.

“Please…please stop..” You whispered to her. Soft whimpers escaped you when her fingers curled. A spot she touched had you gasping for air as she fiercely pushed against it again and again. “Oh, there it is.” Cersei hummed, leaning in as if to whisper into your ear as she cheekily added a third finger.

You stretched so prettily as your hand reached for her own. If you were stronger, you would have tried to push her away. But all you could do was whimper and take what she gave you. “Good girl…you are going to cum in front of all these people, my pretty little whore.” Cersei hummed.

You hated how it was her words that pushed you over the edge. Her fingers continued to fuck you as you squirted around them. Her palm hit your clit with each move that had you rocking against her. Your legs were shaking now whilst her knuckles moved to pinch your clit again and again.

“Lady Tyrell, may I have this dance…” Your eyes widened at the sound of your husband to be. “Of course she would, darling.” Cersei hummed and not so gently removed her soaked fingers. “Go on then..” She whispered, leaning back into her seat as if nothing had happened.

She watched in delight as you struggled to stand up. “It seems she’s had some wine.” Cersei giggled whilst Tommen took with a gentle smile and brought you to him. Your inner thighs are completely soaked with your wetness as you rested your head on his shoulder. Your eyes caught sight of Cersei sucking on her fingers.

#cersei lannister x reader #request

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atomic--peach · 1 year

Text

Her Grace's Handmaiden pt.4

(Cersei x Fem Reader x Jaime. Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader)

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

WARNING: IMPLIED SA and Physical Abuse

The journey from that point was infinitely more pleasant. Not only because of the infinitely improved dynamic between yourself, your mistress, and her brother, but also because you'd finally mastered the basics of riding on your own.

"Ride by me today" Jaime advised you, acutely aware of the mounting tension between yourself and Clegane. "Sometimes it best to just steer clear of men like him"

It was stretching the bounds of protocol, a handmaid riding this close to the leader of the goldcloaks and member of the royal family, but you knew no one would question it if the queen approved.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you departed Kings Landing, and Winterfell was only a few days away by now. The North was beautiful country, much more sparsely populated than The South, and the inns grew farther and fewer between.

Some nights you camped out off the road and some nights you rode straight through without sleep.

By the final inn before reaching Winterfell, you were eager for sleep. You ate with the other servants in the dining hall that had been cleared for the royal party, but keep glancing up at the head table, constantly gauging if you were needed.

The king had been drinking far too much, growing loud and boisterous in a way that clearly embarrassed the queen, who took long drinks from her goblet with a deep frown.

When Cersei left the high table, you rose to follow her quickly.

"Shall l draw a bath, your grace?" You asked, knowing a hot bath was one of the best ways for you mistress to relax.

"No" she said shortly, "Just help me undress, we will be sleeping early tonight."

"Surely, Your Garce" you fumbled with the silken scarves and gown, more catching than undressing as her stripped with haste.

"Lock the door" she snapped. "Firmly"

You obeyed cooly, trying to maintain calm in the face of the Queen's obvious frustration.

You passed the evening in silence, the queen switching between pacing and sitting on the bed until the sun sank and the sky went black.

Before long, there was a heavy shuffling outside the door. It sounded as if someone was pressing their weight against the wall for support as they stumbled down the hall. Cersei stiffened and eyed the door cautiously.

"Your Grace?"

"Be quiet" she snapped in a harsh whisper.

The footsteps stopped outside the door and the door handle tried to turn, stopping firmly against the lock. There was another, harder turn followed by a violent jerking of the door against its hinges.

For a moment there was a heavy, tense silence before the room was full of the sound of cracking wood and squealing metal. You screamed at first, stumbling back in fear as King Robert ruefully examined the damage.

"Is that any kind of welcome for your king?" He rumbled, slurring his words.

"You're drunk" Cersei growled lowly. "Leave my room"

"No" Robert stumbled over to where she sat, leaning against whatever was available to steady himself. "Tonight, I will be with my wife"

You stared with large, frightened eyes at the exchange, but Cersei looked more annoyed than frightened.

"No, You've had too much too drink, there would be no point"

"You!" He wagged a sausage like finger in her direction "are my wife, and you will do a your King commands!"

Cersei looked him up and down a moment with disapproving eyes. "Y/N, leave us"

"But Your Grace!"

Her sharp green eyes flashed at you, "Did I say stand there and talk back? No, I said *Go*"

"Oh, let her stay if she wants" Robert half laughed, "Don't think I don't know you've been showing her your favors already"

Cersei drew in a long breath. "Out. Now"

You hesitated a moment before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind you.

To your surprise, you found Jaime stationed outside the door, face grim as a funeral. You stared at each other a moment before he sighed.

"This doesn't happen very often, not like it used to anyway" he assured you.

You frowned deeply, "It's not right"

"No" Jaime agreed, "it's not."

You waited dutifully beside him, trying to block out the sounds emanating from within the room. It did not last long, maybe 10 minutes.

When it was over, Robert came bumbling out and down the hall, not even noticing you or Jaime watching him go.

"Y/N" the voice that crawled it's way through the door was laced with venom. "Come. Here"

You swallowed hard but peered into the room before entering. Cersei was still clothed but her robe was rumpled, her golden locks a tousled mess in the back. Her face was drawn in tight, angry lines

"Your Grace."

Your head whipped to the side sharply, and then to the other side just as hard. Cercei's ringed fingers left red welts and small cuts across your cheeks as you began to tremble.

"Don't you *ever*, in your pathetic life, question me again." She grabbed a handful of your hair and shook you. The yelp you let out prompted Jaime to enter and blanched at the sight.

"I ought to have you lashed for your insolence, do you hear me?!"

"Yes, your grace." You sobbed, feeling some of the hairs at the back of your head begin to pull out of you scalp. "I'm so sorry, please I beg your forgiveness"

"Beg all you like." Cersei dropped you and watched as you scrambled backwards. "I want you out, I don't want to see your face or hear you voice until we reach Winterfell. Do you hear me?!"

You nodded in silence, fumbling to get to your feet and flee before you could face worse punishment.

Jaime watched you go with a blank expression before turning back to Cersei.

"That wasn't very nice."

"Shut up"

Jaime sighed, "it wasn't her fault, you know. She just didn't want to leave you alone."

"What she wants" Cersei growled. "Is irrelevant. She is here to serve *me* and obey *me*. If she can't do that, what is she good for?"

Jaime pulled an amused face and looked back at the door you fled through "I can think of a few things"

"Fine" Cersei spat at him, "take the little whore into your bed for the night, see if I care."

Meanwhile, in your flight you found yourself by the stables once again. You all but collapsed into an empty stall, trying to catch your breath and slow your racing thoughts.

She didn't mean that

Yes, yes she did. It was clear as the nose on her face.

You sobbed into your knees, hoping the hay you sat on would swallow you whole.

Jaime wandered out into the night, knowing better than to call out your name but at a loss wear to look first.

He followed the torch light from the stable and found Sandor Clegane sitting on a bench in front of one of the stall doors, sharpening his sword.

"Clegane" he called, "have you seen-?"

Clegane flashed him a look and raise a finger to his lips, jerking his head at the stall behind him.

Jaime peered over the door as he got closer and saw your curled up tightly in the straw, face still damp with tears.

"Cried herself out." Clegane grumbled. "Stupid girl didn't have the sense not to fall asleep where anyone could find her."

"I'll take her in" Jaime shook his head but Clegane jammed his foot again the stall door as the knight tried to open it.

"Why don't you just leave her be?" The Hound growled. "The both of you."

"What exactly are you implying?" Jaime jutted his jaw in indignation and The Hound stood up, towering over him.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He pushed but didn't elaborate further.

Jaime considered this a moment and smirked coldly. "Fine then. A good night to you both"

Clegane watched him go before sitting back down and returning to his blade, keeping a careful eye on each person who walked past the stable.

At dawn you rose when the sky was still grey and the sun was engulfed in clouds. A few souls stirred in the chilled morning air and you assessed where exactly you were. In a horse stall, thankfully a clean one.

A deep growl of a yawn pulled your attention and you sucked in a breath. Sandor Clegane had fallen asleep with his chin tucked into his chest, hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

He blinked a moment, scanning this ground with his eyes before glancing at you and frowning.

"What kind of stupid girl falls a sleep out in the open like that?" Were the first words out of his mouth.

You flushed with embarrassment, both that he had found you and because he'd say up making sure no one else did.

"Thank you, ser"

"I'm not a ser, don't call me that" he yawned again, "Come here"

You stepped forward and flinched as he grasped your chin, running a thumb over your purplish swollen skin. The cuts had scabbed over but a few looked red and angry.

"I've seen worse" he sniffed "make yourself useful and fetch me some water will you?"

You moved to go but paused, replaying the events of last night in your mind.

"What is it?" Sandor rolled his eyes as you turned back to him.

"I- I think I got sacked last night" you said blankly. "I think the queen might have dismissed me?"

Sandor shrugged. "Good, that means you can help get the horses set."

You gaped at him a moment and he gave an exasperated sigh.

"Come on, if you're going to ride a horse you should know how to saddle one"

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #jaime lannister x reader #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #Her Grace's Handmaiden

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katy-89 · 1 year

Text

I loved Cersei in the show, but damn, Cersei in the books is….HOLY SHIT.

She's insane! Basically, in the books:

-The relationship between Jaime and Cersei is completely one sided. Her affair with her brother is simply an extension of her narcissism. Cersei is Jaimes worst trait.

-She blames her washerwomen for “shrinking her dresses” because she refuses to admit she’s gaining weight 😭

-She thinks that Tyrion is hiding in the walls, after he killed Tywin 😭

-When she was trying to seduce NED of all people i was like "no way!" i wasn't expecting it. It was just a power move, yeah, but girl….it's NED LOL

-Her obsession with Rhaegar Targaryen OMG i had no idea! She said he's more beautiful than Jaime :O The mourning dress that Cersei is wearing when they summon Sansa to write the letters is all black with red rubies on it . . . just like the armor that Rhaegar was wearing when Robert killed him IMAO she was cosplaying as Rhaegar. I'm surprised me how much Cersei thinks about him 17 years after his death, she looked like….a normal person.

-Alienating competent people who would have been loyal, like Kevan and Jaime, and instead surrounding herself with fresh faces of dubious loyalty like Aurane Waters, the Merryweathers and Qyburn.

-Alienating the Tyrells who are literally her only ally, feeding the entire city, and saved her ass from Stannis. She's actively planning their entire downfall DAMN

-Using the money the crown owes to build a fleet for the bastard from a rebel house who vaguely resembles Rhaegar. Aurane Waters LEAVES with the fleet under her nose 😭 How did Rhaegar make HER that delusional? 😭

-Making an enemy of the Iron Bank NO WAY

-Overturning the prohibition on the Faith Militant, thus allowing a fanatically true believer she was always going to be on the wrong side of an army.

-In addition to the Iron Bank and rearming the Faith, she was setting up Tommen for disaster by never letting him practice, like, being a king. And not even for the right reasons! It would be one thing if Cersei just wanted Tommen to be a kid or whatever, that would be a sympathetic reason (although still short-sighted), but she just can’t bring herself to do anything that might mean sharing her power.

..........

She's so different than show!Cersei omg

I AM the biggest fan of Cersei. She is the most entertaining villain in the series. It's internalized abuse that you can sympathize with, which humanizes her, but also her very own vanity and greed and paranoia, so you can revel in her failures. It's absolutely phenomenal.

One of her most savage moments is when she "consoled" Margaery by saying she'll make sure Loras gets the greatest monument when he "dies" 🤣

HAIL THE MOTHER LIONESS 🦁

#asoiaf #cersei lannister #game of thrones #jaime lannister #rhaegar targaryen #house lannister #house tyrell #got #tyrion lannister

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loggiepj · 21 days

Text

To Love A Lannister

chapter 5 | chapter 6

"And I thought you had bid farewell to old practices, My Lady," Tyrion greeted, upon seeing you request for liquor replenishment from a servant. Tyrion was with his personal bodyguard, assassin, and enforcer Bronn and his squire Podrick, appearing to have visited the brothel you had frequently stayed these past couple of nights.

Forcing a smile their way, you ordered the servant to bring the liquors and food into your accommodation.

"The Red Keep has been a bore recently," you replied, hoping it would satisfy the Lord, and not make him wonder how there's not a whore present in your room that time or any days and nights you had stayed, knowing no one would find you there.

"And here I thought you had only been avoiding a certain Lannister," Tyrion said, chuckling.

Caught in the act.

Before you could respond with wits, he quickly added. "Somehow, my dear sister has been looking for you for quite some time now. How often was it, Podrick?"

Podrick jumped when he was called and looked between you and Tyrion. "Every night, My Lord."

"Every night, right," Tyrion said, laughing. "You might just give my brother Jaime a heart attack."

"The wedding is in a week from now," you said, avoiding their gazes. "I don't think there's any need for me to be physically present in the castle at the moment. Besides, my cousin Oberyn is staying there."

Tyrion smirked before whispering lightly, "We know it's not the Prince she finds quite fond of. Although, I don't think she has been fond of anything at all. Well, until you, of course. Must be the Dornish accent."

"Does she now?" You tried to appear nonchalant upon the revelation. "Are you here to escort me back then?"

"Of course, not. You are welcome to use the lovely amenities here in the Capital whenever you please," Tyrion answered, then pointed at his squire. "We're just here to reward Podrick for his services."

Tyrion and Bronn erupted in laughter, as the latter patted the nervous looking Podrick on the back. You let out a small chuckle their way, but internally, you knew you had to go back. Oberyn might question why you had been acting weird recently.

~~~

The Lord Hand Tywin held another small dinner celebration for the soon to be married couple. It was of no doubt you had no choice but to attend since your absence might raise some questions from the Lannisters. Oberyn forced you, to maintain appearance, although you knew it was the last thing he wanted to do.

You bowed when you met Cersei and greeted her, although rather quick and short. Even when your feelings for the Queen was mostly filled with disappointment, you couldn't help but be captivated once again by her beauty. She wore a high-collared red silk gown, with a hundred dark red rubies sewn into her bodice. Her fingers clasped tightly together as she nodded back at your greeting.

Cersei's eyes never left you until you took a seat between Oberyn and a lady from Highgarden.

When Lady Margaery approached your seats, the three of you stood and greeted the bride to be.

Margaery then introduced the Lady sitting next to you. "I want you to meet Lady Elinor of Highgarden. Elinor, this is Lady Y/n and Prince Oberyn from Dorne."

You spent the rest of the dinner talking to Elinor, and rather found yourself enjoying. Oberyn had left you two to discuss what it was like living in Highgarden, unaware of the glaring eyes the Queen had been sending your way.

You were in the middle of your conversation some time later when you caught sudden raising of voices at the center of the table. Lord Tywin and Queen Cersei appeared to be throwing snide remarks against each other. Apparently, Tywin would send Tommen to train with the Kingsguard the following day. And it made sense how Cersei was totally against it.

"Tommen is just a young boy," Cersei reasoned, her voice reaching the far ends of the table.

"It's okay, Mother," Tommen murmured beside her. The guests around the table seemed uncomfortable with the course of the discussion.

"How can you expect him to defend himself against our enemies when you're always smothering him?"

"You already took my daughter away from me," Cersei hissed with gritted teeth.

"This is why you're a woman," Tywin said, making Joffrey laugh. "You're too soft and naive in this world of men. There's a reason why men are sent to the war. And women stayed in the castles nursing the babies that will become warriors someday."

"War exists because of men," you chimed in, after swallowing a piece of lemon tart. Everyone's heads turned your way. You didn't dare to look. Oberyn squeezed your thigh under the table, as if to stop you from whatever you were about to do, but you didn't seem fazed.

"Lady Y/n," Tywin said, "you have something to say to the matter?"

Once you had gulped a sip of your wine, you reiterated, "War exists because of arrogant and prideful men. It's common sense that they are the only ones involved because they started it."

One guest laughed and the others followed suit.

"And what of the women, Lady Y/n?" Tywin said, forcing a laugh. "Do you not agree they are just mere instruments?"

"Any one is just an instrument in this world. Be it a man or a woman, the world does not discriminate. Even a man's cock is just an instrument in fornication, don't you all agree?"

The guests laughed and some even clapped the table with their hands from amusement.

"She's not wrong, Lord Hand," Olenna agreed, raising her wineglass your way.

You smiled. "Right? A woman may be the only one who can grow a child in her belly. But it's not an easy task. Giving birth is a task as difficult as any war there is out there. In fact, we wouldn't even be here if not for our mothers."

"And what of the whores who gave birth to bastards, Lady Y/n?" Tywin teased, chuckling, knowing it would affect you the most.

Oberyn came to the rescue. "Are they built different than any woman here in this table?"

There was utter silence before another round of laughter exploded.

~~~

"I can't believe I joined this hunt," King Joffrey commented as he pulled the collar of his armor due to humidity. Two servants were fanning him while he sat on top of his own carriage.

You couldn't even believe it yourself, but there you were with your cousin Oberyn, Ser Loras, the Lord Hand Tywin and his son, Lord Tyrion and among other guests in the wedding, hunting for a wild animal as a gift to Lady Margaery.

It was late notice when Tywin suddenly invited you and Oberyn for a hunt in the forest. Although, you both knew it had something to do with your actions last night that gained his attention, you didn't let it deter you from acting pleasantly.

"A drink, My Lady?" one servant offered. You declined with a smile, flashing your waterskin before him. You knew better. From that moment on, it might be Tywin's plan to poison you while you were still in the Capital.

Sitting on a nearby boulder to rest, you pulled out your handkerchief. It was the same handkerchief you had given the Queen one night, to which she had returned to you earlier this morning before you left the castle.

A token, she had said softly.

You still weren't on speaking terms with her. But somehow, she had managed to corner you that morning.

Bringing it to your nose, Cersei's floral scent infiltrated your nostrils, making you close your eyes and savor. Then you heard it, the snapping of twigs and dry leaves behind you.

It all happened so fast and you all were surrounded by soldiers.

"Protect the King!" one of the knights shouted as you unsheathed your sword, meeting one of the blades thrown your way.

"Y/n!" Oberyn's voice carried through the commotion.

"I'm fine!" you shouted back as you fought one of the incoming men towards you.

When you managed to disarm him and push him to the ground, you could see he was sporting a sigil of crowned stag enclosed within a red heart. Stannis' soldiers.

How did they even get so close to the Capital?

A sliver of red caught your peripheral from the dark forest ahead and for a moment, you stared at her as your gazes met. The woman had red hair. You knew of her tales from Dorne. But you didn't expect you'd actually see her in person. The Lady Melisandre. The Red Woman.

Two flying arrows almost hit you, slashing your arm and part of your leg instead. Wincing and staggering to one side, you quickly pulled your small dagger from your belt and threw it at the attacker, piercing his throat.

The fight lasted for a couple of minutes, until what's left of Stannis' soldiers had retreated deep into the woods.

When you looked back at the direction where you once saw the Red Woman, she was already gone.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #game of thrones #g!p reader

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