Sorry, unbetaed again
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Sansa
Six month in the marriage
Sansa wasn't sure what she should expect to happen next. She walked through the golden corridors of Casterly Rock, heading towards her quarters. From time to time she abrupt stopped and nervously played with her sleeves or adjusted her jewellery, playing with her rings, while pretending to admire a certain paining or tapestry, just to gain time.
It bothered her to wear out her new gown in the process. It was imported from Asshai, long red fire silk held by multiple golden chain at her waist. She really liked it because of the fine material, she would order more of it soon. It perfectly hugged her features without revealing too much, felt like the sun on her skin and went beautifully with rubies. But sacrificing it to her nervousness about something that should be normal was something she disliked.
Everybody did it, but she had to have problems alone thinking of it. Sansa had already found the guilty one. She blamed Septa Mordane for educating her the way she had done, harbouring her shyness instead of preparing Sansa for the time she would be married.
"You must be shy, modest" She had said: "Not acting like a harlot." She had said. Sansa screamed in the inside alone thinking of her words and how preparing they had been. Why not something like: "When you are married you can be sure your husband's touch is nothing to be afraid of, it's can be something to embrace." But no, Sansa's Septa had failed miserably in this.
'Stupid dried maid' Sansa thought, why her mother had allowed such a prude and unexperienced woman to teach her daughters being a Lady Sansa couldn't understand, it had not been to her benefit. Well, at least the part with the touching.
Sansa had learned to manage all duties of the Lady of Casterly Rock, meetings with Lords and Ladies, hosting feasts or leading the Household. As much as being the first Lady of House Lannister, what manly meant that everybody came to her with family problems or requests, for children to name after a great ancestor or marriages, Sansa sometimes felt like a nanny. Luckily she wasn't alone with this particular part of her new life, it felt strange being above women much older, if not all times wiser, than herself and without Genna and Dorna Sansa would have failed long ago with them.
Both women were always a great help for her since the day she had arrived. Genna the witty and dominant Lannister who had answers and opinions to all matters and Dorna, who was as Sansa an outsider married into this family, but had always a motherly shoulder for Sansa or a warm smile. Both were like aunts for Sansa, very different aunts but Sansa appreciated everything they could give her.
Although Sansa would have liked to have her mother with her. She missed her, like she missed her father and siblings, even Jon. But they were away at Winterfell. Sansa had promised herself she would make them proud, proving she could manage her new life alone. She still wrote letters and received a few, they didn't eased the sorrow much. But now she was the Lady of Lannister, a Lady of a castle, like her mother she had to leave her home to be this Lady and she was good in being a Lady.
Sansa had also successfully found her place as a wife. But perhaps she had to give Tyrion the credit for that. He had lured her out of her shell by proving to her that he was trustworthy, after that it had been easy. Sansa enjoyed to be with him, reading with him, playing cards or Cyvasse from time to time. They had grown together since he had managed to make her smile.
First she had been all closed up, not even looking at him, her feelings had been to hurt by being married off to him, father hadn't even known him. She had relied on the courtesies Septa Mordane had taught her. She had hid herself in them, not wanting anything to do with him. She hadn't cried after the wedding, but she had thought she wouldn't be happy again, forever. She had been so wrong.
Sansa really appreciated Tyrion's efforts, he had gone to great lengths to do everything he could to make her happy or maybe even more important, to make her laugh. Admitted his humour was in need of getting used to but after she had lost her fear of him it all came naturally.
And the fact that she got whatever she wanted, all things she loved so much but never had or dare to ask for had helped to ease the first obstacles. It was like a dream and so she had acted first, but he had always insisted: "Let it be my gift".
This all together had led to Sansa finding comfort in his presence, his personality was so different of what she knew, so loveable. All those parts of him, his mind, wit, humour, how he teasingly tried to cheat while playing carts, always so clumsy she couldn't do differ than noticing, his grins and smiles, his kindness as well as the from time to time impression he could read what she wanted saying or not let her have feelings for him high above liking.
Tyrion had also started to introduce her in the deeps of politics, making her sit beside him while he hold court. He wanted Sansa to be more than just the woman at his side, he asked for her advice with increased frequency, wanted to discuss matters of importance with her rather than with his aunt.
Sadly Sansa was lost if it came to this, how was she supposed to know? Nobody ever taught her about politics. Tyrion had waved her objections away like a childish excuse, but instead of demanding something from her she couldn't do he had given her books and led her through their discussions. Sansa understood more and more every day, but had also noticed that he was too paranoid. For him everybody had second thoughts, some evil plot somewhere hidden. Sansa thought it ridiculous. Why couldn't he simply trust people?
But it didn't matter, the feeling that he trusted her with such important matters, had honoured her. He thought she was more than just a daft song loving girl, like he saw some of his cousins. Sansa had to admit it flattered her to be more to him than just a neat trophy and it benefited their relationship even more, especially since she knew that he actually liked it to have her talking back to him. Sansa had learned that he would listen to her, doing what she said an entirely new feeling for her. But it came with the fact that sometimes she had to direct him in the right direction. Sometimes with a little force, she had no problems with that, she knew she could feel safe with him no matter what.
But there was one thing she still failed miserable with, being his wife in the bed. She was so shy, flinching when he touched her. Even with him only doing so after she had allowed it. Kissing was hard as well, Sansa had always imagined it sweet, but when they made an attempt her heart began to pound in her chest, she blushed uncontrollably, not to mention the sweat and the blood rushing through her ears. She couldn't even sleep in the same bed without blushing, hiding her womanly parts with her arms before shielding herself with the blanked, nightgown or not. This was also the reason she wouldn't wear silken nightshifts, she was too uncomfortable. But she wanted to, she had a stunning blue nightshift made out of a special silk from Lys, it felt so good on her skin but it also revealed too much of her. But because of Septa Mordane's stupid education she only could wear long plump woollen shifts formed like a sack and thick like a winter coat.
It wasn't because of his look, yes first she had found him ugly as hells but in time the words her Septa had spoken came true: "All man are beautiful" It just had taken time and she discovered what Sept Mordane had meant. Now she wasn't afraid or disgusted anymore. Actually Tyrion had some really cute features, the way he smiled together with his puppy look. Only Sansa could see it in this awesome mismatched eyes of his, she really liked them, especially the black one when it shimmered in the light as much as the warm green one.
All together Sansa wasn't in anyway revolted by his look, sometimes it was the opposite. Or so she thought, it was not like fancying somebody she saw from a far. Sometimes in the night when he slept and the moon would shine she turned to him and thought it would be nice to touch him, feel him, this urge came together with a warm feeling in her belly that occurred when he was with her or if she just heard his voice. But in all this nights she had blushed again, how she hated it.
They sparsely talked about the topic, Tyrion was very patient with her, more than expected from a husband. But driven by the confusing although complex feelings she had for her husband Sansa had talked to him about it this morning at breakfast.
He had been dumbfounded at first, it had been really funny to see her eloquent man searching for his tongue. Sansa had explained she wanted more, but didn't know how when she wasn't even comfortable around him in a nightgown.
He had said he would prepare something for this evening, a little exercise for them, to start overcoming this problem. Sansa had no idea what he had meant, and it made her nervous. Although the prospect of him and her together gave her a thrill of anticipation. She knew Tyrion had experience, with whores, but he had also been married before her, so it wasn't like a blind would guide a blind.
He never talked about his former wife, like everybody else at the Rock, like there would be a dark secret within it. Sansa had given up to bring him to talk about her. She was now his wife and that was all that mattered.
Finally arriving at the huge gold plated door to their chambers Sansa took a last deep breath, still unsure what to do. She wanted to go in, her mind, yes, her heart told her to go in, but there was her chest and this godsforsaken feeling it would be improper. This feeling Septa Mordane had let growing in her.
Gathering her courage, all she had, she ordered the servant besides the door to open the heavy doors for her. She was a Stark of Winterfell, she wouldn't be afraid of something every couple did.
But by stepping inside, she already hesitated again, her intentions replaced with uncertainty.
The room was brightly lit, hundreds of candles flickered in their golden holds. Their chambers consisted out of a gracious antechamber with a curtained arc to the big living room which was attached at the bedchamber where the doors to the dressing rooms, wardrobes as well as a passageway to the privy and another room with marble basins to bath, laid.
But while striding the antechamber and entering the living quarter through the heavy red curtains she found no clue of Tyrion. What she found was a big golden bathtub in the centre of the living room.
Sansa was puzzled by the sight, they had no use for a bathtub with the bath room so nearby. Stepping closer Sansa looked in the filled tub, hot steam rose from the with foam and bubbles covered surface of the water.
Sansa had no idea what Tyrion intended with this, but then she spotted a piece parchment on a table at the side of the tub, together with a flacon of wine and two cups. First thing Sansa did was smiling at the wine. She never liked the bitter flavour of the wine in the North, if she was allowed to drink some at all. The fruity and sweet wine of Casterly Rock was so much better, she had also tasted different sorts of wine over the last month but the wine at the Rock was still her favourite.
Sansa took the parchment and read what was written in what she recognised as Tyrion's neat handwriting:
My dear wife
If you are sure of what you want, take a long hot bath, with much foam
What had that to mean? Was she not clean enough for him? Sansa felt suddenly insulted by Tyrion, how could he dare? Or was it an inappropriate jest? But then she rethought her notion, he wouldn't have gone to such careful preparations just to bath her. He was up to something.
Sansa considered her options, did she really want it? She had feelings for Tyrion, she wasn't sure if it was love but there was something more than liking. She remembered that she had thought about it all day and that her wish for more had already overpowered her doubts.
She unfastened the golden chains around her waist and let her gown drop to the ground unceremoniously, she picked it up and folded it over a nearby chair before taking of her jewellery. It took some time to remove all her necklaces, rings and earrings. Finished she looked around to be sure nobody was there, this behaviour was again owed to her trained shyness, and let her undergarments fell to the ground, not bothering to pick them up, a servant or maid could do that later.
Quickly so she wouldn't be exposed for too long she slipped into the bathtub. The water was still hot and Sansa embraced the feeling of the foamed water on her skin, around her limbs. She loved the feeling and relaxed immediately.
Sansa leaned against the back of the tub and reached for the wine, noticing pleased that the liquid was cold. The servants couldn't have been ready with this scenery long before she had arrived. She poured herself a cup and leaned back, closing her eyes and savoured the momentum. Her body was covered in water and foam together with bubbles, so nothing except for her neck and head was to see. She liked it, in the evening after a long day a hot bath was a pleasant experience, Sansa decided to do this more often. All her worries about what Tyrion planed were forgotten.
Sansa had no idea how long she had been in the tub when the door was loudly opened and Tyrion marched nonchalant in the room. Startled by his intrusion and realising how much on display she was Sansa contorted in the tub, quickly covering herself with her hands.
Tyrion only grinned at her and bowed before he stepped to the edge of the tub. Sansa, blushing again, let herself sink deeper in the water until only her head above her nose was to see. She eyed her husband suspiciously, embarrassed for her own shyness, but she couldn't do anything about it, it was a reflex and she couldn't stop.
Tyrion leaned at the edge of the tub, he was just as tall as necessary to cross his arms on the edge. He grinned widely at her before letting his gaze wander over the water, causing Sansa's reflexes to strike in again and the water churn up.
"You know Sansa" He told her still grinning. "As more as you struggle in the tub as more will the water be churning and this thick layer of foam will disappear." He let his finger wander over the water, catching foam on it and hold it in front of his face. "Not that I would complain about it, I could see more of you then." He smiled wickedly at her, before leaving the side of the tub to get himself a chair.
Sansa surfaced out of the water, only to the chin and confirmed that he was right, the foam made it impossible to see any part of her body, it made her feel more relieved, she could breathe more freely. The foam was like a blanked over her and the water around, even transparent as it was felt in her mind better than being naked.
In the meantime Tyrion had dragged a chair at her side and climbed on it, only to take the second cup on the table, pouring himself a gracious portion of wine after refilling her cup.
"You are beside me and naked" He chanted, sounding immature like a child, while grinning at her. Sansa reached for her own cup, carefully so he wouldn't see more than her arm reaching out of the foam and took a great sip.
But she relaxed further, the warm water and the fact that he couldn't see her were helping much. It wasn't like wearing clothing, it was totally different but it didn't bother her so much anymore. Then it dawned her, his plan.
"Clever man" She grinned at him, some self-confidence returning. "What is next?"
"Maybe I join you?" He suggested nonchalant, tossing his wine. At his words Sansa blushed again and sunk deeper. Her behaviour cause a roaring laughter from him, he nearly fell from the chair.
Sansa took her revenge by splashing water from the tub at him, she didn't cared of the foam at this moment.
"Stop, stop, I surrender." He plead laughing, shielding his face with his hands, feeling merciful Sansa stopped, but not before laughing loudly. But noticing the small hole in the foam she quickly closed it.
The time went by, Tyrion told her from his day and Sansa told him from hers. She felt comfortable, like at the dinner table, she didn't waste a single though on the fact that she had no clothes on. Tyrion sat beside her on his chair drinking and talking while she stayed in the golden tub. With time the water and her shyness were forgotten. Until she noticed that the foam slowly dissolved and uncovered her. Sansa looked up in shock but Tyrion gave her a grin together with a shrug.
"Still feel uncomfortable?" He asked her and Sansa had to admit that it wasn't so bad. She shacked her head, a bit bewildered by the situation but she didn't try to cover herself, the water was still there, it eased the reflex. It was also more milky than clear, so he only could see a silhouette of her, more than usual, and she was still naked but she didn't care.
"Good." Tyrion grinned. "Next time we perhaps reverse positions." He got up and walked in their bedroom only to return a moment later with a bath robe for her. "And in time, perhaps we bath together." He suggested, climbing on the chair and holding the robe for Sansa. After he had averted his gaze she rose from the tub and quickly covered herself with the robe. "I am sure after we uncovered this obstacle we can manage the rest easily."
He jumped from the chair and offered her his hand to lead her to the bedroom. He was right. Sansa thought to herself. Her she didn't blushed anymore, even dressed improper. It had worked, not entirely but she felt better around him with so less clothes on, a few times maybe and she could be naked around him, without blushing as well as seeing him naked without blushing.
A cunning little husband she gotten there, fighting Septa Mordane's faults by tricking them.
Jaime
Cersei paced her room wildly, looking between being in rage and like a kitten that caught a mouse. But Jaime could see the anger was more powerful.
"He is my son!" she nearly screamed in the room. "I am the Queen!" She turned to him and hammered with her hand on her breasts. Jaime nearly forgot the situation, seeing how her hair moved and her eyes burned, not to mention her breast moving by her hand hammering on them. His sister was breath-taking and he couldn't avoid admiring her dreamingly. But he had to get his act together, the situation demanded it. "After all I endured, he dares to make him regent!"
Robert Baratheon, the great King of the seven Kingdoms lied on his death bed, stricken down by a boar. Cersei's doing, his sister's doing. And Jaime still wasn't sure why she had managed his accident, but somehow its reasons lied with Ned Stark.
Four weeks ago, during the tournament of the Hand, the tournament the actual Hand hadn't participated in, Cersei had talked to the Northerner. The evening after she had been excited and wrathful like she was now. Apparently Lord Littlefinger had tried to cause some trouble between the Houses Stark and Lannister, but had failed miserably. Even if he didn't know it, but Jaime knew he was just a dead man walking. A Lannister paid her debts, Baelish was blissfully unaware that as soon as the succession had been ruled out, he would die a horrible death for defiling the House of Lannister and more important Cersei. But so long he would think he had won, great mistake, but nothing Jaime had to worry about now.
However, Eddard Stark had made an offer of peace, owed by the family bound they supposedly shared. Cersei had taken it, feeling confident to use it for her own benefit. Jaime had gone to him as well, talking to him, just to discover he truly wanted to trust them and believed in their friendship. Jaime thought he was an illusionary fool to think only because Tyrion was nice to him for the sake of his wife he could trust all Lannisters.
But there had been two reasons Jaime hadn't laughed in his face, first Cersei was worried, she always worried too much. Worried about Littlefinger's lies, worried about the King finding out, worried about losing all and be alone. So he had played along and now Jaime had to admit that an alliance between them could be a benefit at the court. Not to mention that it drove all the other ass kisser and lecherous schemer of the court crazy to see wolf and lion being a nice, functional family standing together.
His second reason was Tyrion, Jaime hadn't forgotten the fight they had had in Winterfell. Jaime had promised himself at least to try to be nice. It really seemed to matter a lot for Tyrion that they families were at good terms.
But now the great problem was that Cersei felt so over confident with the trust Lord Stark put in them, yes slavish trust, that she had decided to get rid of her husband. Jaime shouldn't have a problem with disposing this drunken violent fatso who constantly insulted his sister. But Robert was his King and Jaime was a member of the King's Guard, it was his duty to protect the King.
Luckily for his consciousness Cersei hadn't bothered to tell him what she panned. She somehow had urged the King to go hunting, making sure he would drink himself to death and the fool had done it. Now the King was dying and Cersei had seen her great chance to finally rule.
Jaime actually had no problem with seeing his sister on the Iron Throne. It had always bothered Cersei that because of her cunt nobody would let her have power or a sword. Jaime never shared this opinion, there were worse male ruler out there than Cersei would have been, would be.
But Robert had decided to make Ned Stark the regent for Joffrey, and Cersei raged.
Although Jaime saw the situation different than his sister, he had small liking for the man but Ned Stark would most likely be a capable ruler, naïve he was, yes, but potentially a good regent for Joffrey. The boy needed a male example he could follow other than the whoring fat ass and then perhaps he could become a halfway decent King, instead of flaying his brother's pets.
Robert had never showed interest in Cersei's children and when Jaime had wanted to get involved in their lives Cersei had forbade it. He had never been allowed to be more than an sparsely there uncle. Even Tyrion had spent more time with the children, but not enough to make good for Robert's failures. Jaime had honestly to admit that he was not sure if Joffrey was to be a person meant to life. Cersei had pampered him so much, made him depend on her so much that in the end he not cared for more than her and his ego. He would be a cruel King, too cruel and unfortunately with the same illusions Cersei had about ruling.
His sister still thought that ruling would be a right by blood, that a ruler goo do as he liked without caring for other. And if named other had a different thought, or disobeyed they were traitors to kill. Jaime had seen this attitude, even if Cersei's had lessened since their father had died.
Ned Stark's children on the other side seemed to be better, and perhaps he could teach Joffrey something, as well would Jaime do, he could be the uncle who took care after the father's death. And the boy would need help alone if he wanted to survive his soon to be bride.
After speaking with Tyrion Jaime had put an interest in the Stark children, for his brother, and he had discovered that the younger girl was a real wolf. Cersei saw only a threat for her relationship with Joffrey or his health, given the incident with the wolf, but Jaime saw a bit of Lyanna Stark, he had seen at Harrenhal, in the girl as well as something of Cersei. This clearly visible wish to be more than a sowing breeding mare with the girl was so much like Cersei, only that Stark hadn't been their father and didn't put an end to it, like Lord Tywin had done so often when he had noticed. Joffrey would have huge problems if he wouldn't change, Jaime thought, thinking at the faith of King with the stinking wound in the keep.
"I will not let them take my time away from me Jaime" Cersei declare in rage, Jaime was sure she was ready to throw something through the room. So he got up and sneaked behind her to hug her tightly, feeling her warmth.
"Ned Stark wants nothing more than to be back in his cold home." Jaime whispered in Cersei's ear, leaning his head on her shoulder. Her hair tickled his side. "He will do his duty as long as he is needed and then he will leave. Let him be." He tried to calm his sister, only to witness how she remove herself from his embrace, turned around and glared at him with her wonderful green eyes, that had turned to wildfire.
"Why should I let this happen? Heh?" Jaime wanted to approach her but she backed up, punishing his words with coldness. "Joffrey is my son, it's my time to rule and if he doesn't want to give to me what is my right I will take it by force." She started pacing again, Jaime suddenly had a very bad feeling about it.
"What do you mean?" He asked carefully, not to provoke his angry lioness.
"When Robert is death I will make sure Ned Stark is gone." She declared seriously. "And he can take his dirty daughter with him."
"And how do you want to accomplish that?" Jaime asked, stepping forward now, this wasn't good, Cersei risked too much.
"We are family, or did you forget?" She mocked him, smiling malicious. "He will go. I will make sure of that and if not I will make sure of it with force." She picked up a cup of wine from a nearby table and guided it to her lips but didn't drink. "Maybe the gold cloaks. This butcher Slynt would surely do it if I promise him a Lordship."
"You can't!" Jaime exhaled, he tried to calm his tone, wanted to reason with her. This was to rash, inconsiderately. Cersei never thought her plans all through, it was too rash, like her plan to kill Robert, yes it had worked but it could have strike back terrible, she had luck. But her idea now would mean war. "What you plan will only accomplish one thing, a war we can't win." He tried to make it clear to her. Cersei gave him a sour expression and a pejorative gaze.
"Are you afraid of a few northern savages with pikes brother?" She smirked at him. "I thought you were more of a man." It had hurt, Cersei knew exactly where to hit him. But he couldn't let her corner him.
"Depose Ned Stark and the Northerner will fight against you, and what then?"
"I will be Queen Regent, my son will be King. What should I care about a few harry savages, they will be crushed on my command." Cersei took a winning sip of her wine thinking she had won. Jaime would have liked nothing more than shaking his head, but knowing his lovely sister he decided not to. She made the same mistake the Mad King had done.
"And who will fight for you?" He asked her, only receiving a doubting glance before she dedicating to her wine again. Jaime took a deep breath and started: "Robert's brother will rather seek power for themselves than let you be Queen Regent, they won't fight for you. The dornish couldn't care less, maybe they will enjoy seeing Lannister die. The Reach won't fight for us they hate us." Jaime had hoped his recital would be enough but seemingly it wasn't: "On the other side Tully and maybe Arryn will fight for the North, this is for sure. Who is left? Tyrion?" Cersei gave him a poisoning look by his mentioning of their brother but Jaime knew she knew he was right. "You never gave him a single reason to raise his banners for you. But the Stark-girl gives him a reason to fight for her father every night."
"So you want me to give our dwarf a reason to fight for me?" She spatted at him, making him now back up by her outburst. "Oh would you like it to have him in my bed, do you want to join while he touches me, like a common whore of his or do you want to watch?"
"What I want, my dear love" Jaime said, hoping not to show his wound Cersei just ripped "is that you see clear."
"See clear?" Jaime was sure she would throw her cup at him. She was so beautiful when she was angry. So Jaime ceased the moment and took her in his arms again, she struggled but when she gave up he whispered:
"Let him have his time as regent." Jaime tightened his grip. "Let Joffrey be prince until he is of age." Jaime savoured her smell. "Share the power with him. He will be good but with you together he will be even better." He tried to seduce her, roaming his hands all over her body. Jaime really thought what he had said. On his own this city would swallow even the best regent, if he was so honourable like Ned Stark. He was too honourable and Cersei too rash. Maybe working together would be of benefit for both. They could be a team and showing the realm that everything is all right. Tyrion would like that too. But Jaime was sure Ned Stark would have some problems to face then. "And if he doesn't share familiar, like he should. I will kill him. I will kill them all."
"You want me to share, why should I? Or better, why should he?" Cersei asked defeated, Jaime had finally reached her. She considered hi idea and that was worth a lot.
"Because we are family, have you forgotten?" He smirked in her ear before going with his head around and kissed the corner of her lip. It would be better this way, for all of them.
"I see." Cersei said, not returning his kiss but also not turning away. But Jaime could see another plan being born in her eyes, it worried him.
Hope it wasn't too much and you like it
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