Water dripped off her person onto the stone floors of Castlerly Rock. The rain had been relentless the past few days of their journey home and it soaked her through. She hardly knew the meaning of dry anymore. She wrung out her hair, using the cloth Septa Aliane had provided.
Willas was standing in the entrance hall, shaking his head back and forth, droplets from his hair flying all about. Including on Leila, who growled at him irritated. They all stood at the front hall of their home, escaping from the never-ending onslaught of water. Jaime had taken the horses and instructed Willas to take the women on inside.
Merilyn handed the sopping wet cloth back to the Septa and looked around the hall expectantly, "Where's Luna?" She smiled, "I'm surprised she didn't chase me down as soon as I entered the grounds."
Aliane averted her eyes and murmured to the ground, "Maester Culwin has locked her in the outdoor cages. Said she was killing chickens."
Merilyn stiffened, "In the outdoor cages?"
The Septa nodded nervously.
Willas had dropped his bickering with Leila and was observing their conversation warily.
Merilyn digested what Aliane had said, feeling anger course through her. No one other than she herself touched Luna, let alone cage her. Without a further word to her audience, she swept from the hall and back out into the rain.
The outdoor cages were out past the stables, further towards the piles where the servants dumped rotten food and other waste. Sick or injured hunting dogs had once been kept there, but now, after years of disuse, most were rusted over. The bars of the cages were wide enough to let rain through and even before she fully reached them, she saw her Luna crouched in furthest cage, water saturating her fur. As she strode further, she saw the grey fur mangled and matted, with dirt heavy set in it.
Luna caught sight of her and tried to stand up, waiting to greet her mistress happily. But her haunches bumped the top of the cage and she settled instead to thump her tail in recognition.
Merilyn seethed with anger. She grabbed at the opening of the cage and wrenched furiously. The lock clattered frustratingly and she immediately realised there was only one man who would have the keys in this moment. Forgetting she was tired, miserable, and freezing, she reached through the bars and stroked her beloved pet direwolf, whispering the soft promise of her freedom from captivity.
She whirled on her heels and ran back up to the castle. Brushing past Leila who was waiting uncertainly in the same place she had been left, Merilyn strode down the hall and down stone steps two at and a time. She flung open the heavy wooden door to the kitchens, hearing it crash upon impacting with the wall.
Culwin stopped lecturing one of the cooks about proper hen roasting mid sentence, and looked up at the intrusion.
Inclining his head, he greeted her, "Welcome home, my lady."
"To the seven hells with your formalities, Maester. You may not like me, or any of my decisions. That is at your own discretion. But would you explain to me what the fuck prompted you to believe you had the authority to touch my direwolf?" She wasn't yelling. Her voice was low, drenched as much as she was but with cold fury instead of rainwater.
Instead of offering apologies, Culwin sniffed haughtily, "The savage animal was running loose on the grounds and even in the castle, killing chickens and scaring children."
"Luna has never once killed on castle grounds. Keep your lies to yourself. I want the key to the cage now."
"For many years, I've looked after the welfare of this Castle. I will not be set aside by a cunt of a girl and her disgusting Northern creature."
Merilyn drew herself to her full height, "Maester Culwin, you are dismissed from the service of Castlerly Rock." She turned to the woman he'd been berating only a moment before, "Tell Willas that Maester Culwin's things will need to be moved." She turned back to the man himself, "Give me the keys."
Culwin laughed disbelievingly, "You cannot dismiss me. You're not the Lady of Castlerly Rock. Nothing you say has any true value. I've been here for over fifty years. I am Lord Tywin's most trusted advisor!"
Merilyn smiled coldly, "Do you see any other lady here, Maester? Is Lord Tywin here?"
"He is the only one with the authority to dismiss me."
"He is off playing soldier at Riverrun. I am here and you are dismissed. I will not tell you twice. Hand over the keys and be off."
Culwin sneered and pushed past her, "We'll see what your good husband says about this."
Her stomach dropped as she followed the Maester up the stairs, running to keep up with him. She remembered her mother fighting with her father once, something that rarely happened. Her mother's calm forcefulness had won the argument eventually and after, Catelyn had told her daughter that anger never one the battle, but certainty in one's decision did.
Jaime stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at them as they both came from the kitchens. He was dripping wet, as well, and seemed to brace himself for the oncoming disaster.
The Maester spoke first, loudly, "Your Lady has requested my disposal, Ser."
Jaime raised an eyebrow, "Is this true?"
"No, my lord, I requested no such thing. I told Maester Culwin he was dismissed. There was no asking involved." If she was going to tell the Maester that she was the Lady of Castlerly Rock, then she damned well was going to act like it.
"Lord Jaime, I've only ever served House Lannister faithfully. There are no grounds possible for this decision."
There was a pause and then Jaime's cold voice cut through the silence, "Maester Culwin, what is my wife?"
Merilyn stood stock-still as the Maester looked from Jaime to her in confusion.
"I'm not sure what you mean, my lord?"
"My wife is what? You seem so intent to prove your loyalty to House Lannister, yet you seem to forget a vital fact. You have no answer? Then I shall answer my own question. My wife is a Lannister. Our children will carry the house name. She wears the colours with pride and has continually done nothing but serve the name of this house well. And, yet, you presume to be above her, do you not?"
The Maester opened his mouth and then shut it, lowering his gaze to the floor. There was a moment of paused silence, until he cleared his throat, "You are right, my lord. I beg your forgiveness."
"It is not my forgiveness you need. If you're through acting like children, I have actual things to do." The venom had gone from his voice and he seemed almost bored now. He'd made his point.
Merilyn felt like being either embarrassed or smug. His reference to their being children was a direct hit at her, she felt. But the fact that he had called her a Lannister, set her with his family, made her feel rather giddy. She remembered again how much a Stark her own mother was, forsaking her Southern family name to encompass everything a Northern Stark was. She had done something very little women in their marriages accomplished. And Merilyn felt brief hope that maybe she was more like her mother than she had ever thought.
"My Lord, as I am willing to admit my insubordination was out of line, I am unwilling to see my actions of chaining a dangerous animal as –"
"Give the Lady the keys, Maester. We can discuss this later," Jaime's tone moved from boredom to impatience suddenly and the Maester handed over the keys hurriedly without another word.
Merilyn ran from the castle forgetting all about propriety and raced back to the cages, unlocking and wrenching the door open in record timing.
Luna jumped out happily, throwing her mistress down into the mud. She ran her hands over her direwolf's coat, feeling relief at seeing her out of the cage. The matted fur covered the fact that Luna hadn't been fed well. Her fingers grazed across her jutting ribcage and Merilyn felt her heart clench painfully. The rain pounded rhythmically down around them, pouring down her face so heavily that she didn't realize she was crying.
"I'm so sorry, Luna. So sorry," she whispered softly, burying her face into Luna's neck, "I should never have left you. Please forgive me."
She couldn't imagine how her direwolf – who had never seen chains in her lifetime – had felt being shoved into a cage too small and too restraining. The injustice of it all burned in Merilyn's throat. The tears fell freely now, competing aptly with the rainwater. Sobs wrenched from her echoed around the yard, and her entire body shook, from emotion or cold she didn't know. But it was uncontrollable, overcoming common sense. She was kneeling in the mud, clutching her monstrously sized wolf, weeping as if the world was ending.
She had no idea how long she'd been crying. The tears still fell, her voice was now hoarse from sobbing, and her shaking had become near impossible to control. Luna's excitement had faded, though she still wagged her tail occasionally, and she sat still enjoying the arms around her. Suddenly, the direwolf stood up, breaking Merilyn's grip around her and wagged her tail happily.
Boots splashed through the mud and came to a stop in front of the Lady Lannister.
Merilyn looked up to see her husband, staring down at her impassively. She hiccupped and tried to take a deep breath, which became a sob almost instantly. The embarrassment flooded her and she looked away, down at the ground. She felt arms wrap around her and haul her away from the ground.
Jaime trudged towards back to the warmth of the indoor. Luna followed closely behind, trailing his heals. Merilyn took shuddering breaths feeling entirely embarrassed by her display of emotion. He entered the castle and strode past Septa Aliane and Leila; up the stairs and to the room they had shared for less than a week many months ago.
Luna immediately crossed the room and sat by the stoked fire, happily splaying out on the skin rug. Jaime set Merilyn upon her feet and then immediately set about untying her laces and dropping the dress to the floor. Her underclothes were as soaked as her dress had been and without so much as a by your leave, Jaime had relieved her of those as well. She lifted her hands to cover herself, though her husband hardly seemed to look at her at all, instead picking her up once again and depositing her into the steaming tub in the corner that she hadn't noticed until now.
She yelped once upon first coming into contact with the water, but it quickly turned to a sigh of happiness as she felt the cold melt away from her. She sat still for a moment, watching as Jaime sat in the chair farthest away, his gaze wandering to the flames. The stillness of the room invaded Merilyn's mind and she stifled any urge to start conversation. There wasn't much she could say beyond 'sorry for crying for no apparent reason after you so willingly left your family behind in King's Landing, merely because I asked.' Instead she laid her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes.
"I forget how young you are sometimes."
Her eyes flew open and she raised her head, looking at Jaime. He sat relaxed in the chair, his feet propped up on the nearby stool. He was looking directly at her, green eyes seemingly pinning her in place.
"Quite often you act as if you've passed thirty namedays. You stand tall and cold without a glimpse of weakness or emotion. And I forget to remember you are but sixteen, a child. Even my sister had been older than you upon her own marriage." His voice was soft, thoughtful. He looked at her as if he had never really seen her before.
He stood up and paced about the room. His strides, slow and steady, carried him from one end of the room to the other and back again. Luna's head perked up at the first sign of his movement and after a few moments laid her head back down again.
Merilyn saw the tenseness of his shoulders, the furrowed brow, and felt a stab of fear that her crying had angered him. She was a fool. She'd tried to fill the role of the Lady of Castlerly Rock and instead had broken into tears like the child she was. Her mother would be furious at her actions. She felt her eyes burn in humiliation and she discreetly wiped the corners of her eyes quickly.
Jaime's pacing stopped abruptly, "I don't know how to do this. Marriage was never supposed to happen, not in my life."
She laughed bitterly, "It was always supposed to happen for me. There never were any other choices. That doesn't mean I know implicitly know how marriage works."
"You've been nothing but complacent about it, never fighting or screaming against the injustice of it all. If I were you, I would've tried to run home at least three times by now."
"Back home to what? Septas and lessons, bickering siblings? No, Ser, there is nothing to go back to."
Jaime sat wearily in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, "I don't want you to be miserable."
"Who says I am?"
"I suppose crying in the middle of rainstorm could speak of ecstatic happiness," he drawled.
"I was tired and overwhelmed from being back. That is not misery."
"Do you repeat these things to yourself until you even begin to believe them?"
She rolled her eyes. He didn't get it. How could he? He had never lived a life of preparation for one thing. He could not possibly know her sheer terror as a young girl about being tied to a beast of a husband or never being given to a husband at all. His duty to his family differed completely from her own.
Feeling sudden inspiration, she rose slowly from the bath, feeling the cold hit her like a wave. She picked up the silk robe lying nearby and wrapped it loosely about her. Jaime watched her movements carefully. She stifled her nervousness and stepped towards him, slowly, confidently. She'd watched women at King's Landing seduce their lovers carefully and deliberately. She tried to copy them as she walked towards him, their coy glances and graceful movement. His eyes were still upon her as she reached his chair. She could feel his body heat radiate through his wet clothes and imagined she could hear his heartbeat she was so close.
She straddled him on the chair, her knees bent and tucked underneath her as she rested her full weight upon his hips. He inhaled once and stiffened as her hands landed on his shoulders.
"It could be so much worse," she whispered into his ear, her voice breathy and low. Her hands moved from his shoulders down his chest and began to untie his shirt. "You cannot imagine the horror stories I've heard of young girls marrying old men," she lightly kissed his ear, "men without hair, men with wandering hands and cruel tempers. I heard them all."
His shirt opened and she pushed it off of him slowly, trailing her fingers along the newly exposed skin. She heard a sharp intake of breath from him and stifled a smile. Their roles had certain switched.
Jaime's head was spinning like a small child's play toy. One second she'd been crying in the rain, resembling the most vulnerable embodiment of a wound, and the next she was straddling him, pushing him past the limits of his tolerance.
Her breath was warm on his neck, moving up to his ear. He wanted to touch her, but felt stuck in the very same position, as if his hands were tied to the arms of the chairs. He was trying hard to concentrate on what she was saying, but her touch was delicious on his chest making it difficult to understand her soft whispers.
"You've never once raised a hand to me." She kissed his neck, lightly sucking on his pulse and lightly etched patterns on his skin with her nails. "You've listened to me, protected me, treated me as more than a common tool to be used and set aside as necessary."
Jaime leaned his head back against the chair as his wife slowly kissed her way down his chest, her tongue darting out every few seconds. She pressed her hips more firmly to his in a small rocking motion and they both sighed at the new pressure.
As she moved back up to his neck, she grazed it with her teeth, causing him to buck up slightly and rub against her. She let out a soft moan, but kept about diligently to her task.
"You even have all of your teeth," she pulled back and smiled directly at him, before leaning in and capturing his mouth with her own.
He didn't realize how badly he had needed to kiss her until their tongues met. He pushed forward into the kiss and finally moved his hands to settle upon her hips. He gripped and squeezed interchangeably, relishing the feel of her soft flesh being molded by his touch. Their kiss lasted until she pulled away to gasp for breath. Jaime took that moment to untie her slight robe and pushed it past her shoulders to fall to the ground. He moved one hand languidly from her hip to cup a breast, feeling her nipple already taut from the cold. He casually ran a thumb across it, feeling her leg muscles tighten immediately at the touch.
She looked more self-conscious now that she was bare and her hands seemed to fret uncertainly, skimming his shoulders restlessly, as if she didn't know what to do now.
He smirked and slid the hand that had been fondling her breast, down low past her stomach and in between her legs. He smoothed one finger into her folds and felt her wetness drip forth. If he hadn't already been as hard as a rock, he instantly became so upon feeling her arousal. He pushed two fingers into her with ease and pressed his thumb against her clit, eliciting a louder moan. His other hand set an easy rhythm, guiding her hip's movements as she rocked against his two fingers and thumb.
The last time they had done this, her face had been covered in shadow, preventing him from seeing her reaction. But now, in their room, the fire lit her face perfectly, showing the mesmerizing delight on her face as she let go and enjoyed what Jaime was doing to her. There were drops of sweat upon her brow and her eyes were screwed shut as she panted and moaned, trying hard to reach her climax against whatever friction he would give her.
Suddenly, he needed to see her blue eyes darkened with lust, "Look at me," he commanded, slowing the motion of his hand.
She whimpered at the loss of movement and her eyes flew open, meeting his gaze with a mixture of confusion at his request and desperation to reach her peak.
"Don't look away," he grunted, continuing his motion from where he left off.
She whimpered more loudly with her mouth slightly open. She managed to keep her gaze from wavering though.
Her eyes were even more expressive than her face was. Dilated and swimming with desire, the blue Tully color was never more impossible to Jaime than it was then. The sparkling sapphire seemed to speak to him in ways that her mouth never would. There was adoration, desire, maybe even respect. They looked into his green eyes, wanting acceptance, looking for approval from him, he realised suddenly. She needed his recognition, needed to know she was someone that was wanted, that she was necessary to him. The knowledge of that stunned him for a moment.
He moved his hand from her waist to pinch an erect nipple, twisting slightly, satisfied as he heard her surprised huff. She thrust forward violently against his hand and he picked up his pace, rubbing his thumb even harder against her clit.
She convulsed then, reaching her peak and he felt her inner wall clench around his fingers. Overcome with desire at seeing her orgasm, he stood suddenly and crossed the room with her in his arms and laid her on the bed, forgetting to be gentle. Before she could start from surprise, he had undone his own trousers and sheathed himself inside of her.
He groaned at the feeling of her enveloping his cock, and he pressed her down onto the bed with one hand upon her hip heavily as he began to thrust in and out.
She gripped his shoulders, meeting his movements with her own, like a damned cat in heat. Her gaze met his own and he was hit with a wave of lust as his urgency grew stronger. She was so tight and warm and it had been more than a few moons since he'd had a woman. Everything about her was arousing, the pretended knowledge she had assumed, the shy modesty that was ingrained in her, the longing for his approval, and now the unbridled desire he was seeing in front of him.
She moaned loudly as he shoved forward harder and he heard another moan escape her in the form of a word, "Jaime."
The softly moaned word was his undoing and he pumped a few last times and then spent himself hard inside of her. He shuddered from his release and exhaled heavily. As he came down from his high, he realised he was lying upon her and hoisted himself upon his elbows to allow her breathing room again. One hand stroked her hair softly, moving it away from her sweat drenched face. She smiled up tiredly.
"I think I might have a better understanding now," she whispered.
He let out a bark of laughter and removed his cock from her.
He settled upon his side, looking down at her and laid an arm softly across her. They were both hot and still breathing hard from their bout. She moved slightly, curling against him and yawned once. He felt a tenderness creep upon him as he looked at her soft form.
He'd been irritated earlier upon finding her in tears. After such a performance against the Maester, he had expected to see a triumphant woman. Instead he saw the frailty and uncertainty that she hid so well. He had been tryin to give her a better life than what he'd seen so many young women condemned to, but her tears had mocked his actions and he'd felt a hopelessness settle upon him as he watched her in the bath. And then out of nowhere, she had surprised him.
She opened her mouth to say something further, but a knock on the door interrupted her.
Luna, who had been half-asleep throughout their whole escapade, stood then with raised hackles. Merilyn made to stand, startled by the fact that there were other people in the castle, but Jaime caught her arm and forced her to continue lying next to him. He reached down and brought the covers around them, covering her for her modesty's sake.
"Enter," he commanded, ignoring the horror-filled look of hers.
The door opened and Willas strode in. After briefly coming to terms with the happenings in the room, he steadfastly looked at the floor, "There's been a raven. From Winterfell, Ser."
Merilyn looked up at him, fear in her eyes. He kissed her forehead comfortingly. It almost felt natural, he thought surprisingly.
She looked at Willas then and reached out her hand, but he shook his head.
"It is for Lord Jaime."
Jaime stood then, completely naked, and took the parchment from Willas's hand. He then nodded towards the door as a dismissal to the boy. With a small bow, Willas left, shutting the door behind him.
Merilyn sat up, still clutching the sheet to her, watching him as he opened the letter.
"They write to you?" She asked, confusion heavy in her voice.
"It is from Lord Stark. Winterfell has been attacked. Your two sisters and youngest brother have been sent away. They seek safety here." Jaime felt his stomach churn slightly at the further details of the letter and understood then why Ned Stark had written to him instead of his beloved daughter. Jaime knew Merilyn would be torn at this news. Half of her ecstatic to see her family and the other half petrified with worry about the safety of her childhood home. He also knew she would leave the actual decision to him, and would not beg if he were to turn down the need for sanctuary.
He could see her entire body was tense as she waited for his reaction. Jaime tried hard to remember which siblings of hers were which but gave it up for a lost cause.
"Shall I send back saying they are welcome?" He half-teased her, wanting her to stop looking so scared of his response.
She smiled then and he felt he had done the right thing by her, for once.
Gosh, I am sorry for the delay. This chapter was extremely hard for me to write, so if it's less than my norm, I apologize. I hope to update more quickly, but there aren't really any guarantees. Thanks so much for the continued support. And I'll say reviews always make me more likely to update.
If you have anything you want to see coming up, let me know. Thanks again! xoxo
Lady F