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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl	By : White Glove Literature Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 27883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own Game of Thrones nor make money from this story.

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“Girl.” The voice spoke.

Arya slept fitfully, tossing and turning on the hard stone floor with only a small, thin woolen blanket for comfort.

“Girl.”

There it was again. That high, cold voice. She scrunched her face but opened her eyes and sat up, straightening her gown before standing and crossing the room. Turning her head, she looked towards the narrow slits in the stone walls that served as windows. The sun had not risen yet and there were only the faintest hints of light in the sky, leaving the room illuminated only by the dying embers in the fire and the dim lighting of beeswax candles on the desk.

Scowling, she bit back an angry retort and crossed the room to kneel beside the desk where Lord Tywin sat working. He always retired late in the night and rose at an early hour every morning to begin the day anew. Prompt, hardworking and tireless. That was Lord Tywin. He seemed impervious to the need for sleep, often keeping her awake as well to wait upon him while he worked.

“Yes, milord.” She said, kneeling, her eyes downcast.

“Go to the kitchens and fetch me some wine,” He said, not even bothering to look at her.

“Yes, milord," She replied quietly. This was a normal request with him. He often drank watered down wine while working and would often send her to fetch it from the kitchens. Recently, one of his underlings had been killed in a mysterious accident and he had been on edge. Perhaps even fearful... She stood and backed out of the room, before turning and rushing off towards the kitchens. Exiting the tower where Tywin had taken up residence, she ran through the courtyard, skirts rumbling about her ankles and dashed towards the doors to the kitchen. At this time, only servants wandered the courtyard. Reaching the kitchens, she found the castle cook hard at work kneading dough and shouting instructions to the kitchen staff, cursing them when they lagged behind. She stopped in front of him and spoke softly.

“Lord Tywin sent me to fetch some wine,” she said looking around the kitchen. The cook paused in his work, looking at her for a moment before turning and shouting.

“Oi! You there, boy. Fetch a jug of wine and a cup for Lord Lannister. And be quick about it.” Weese shouted, looking at Hot Pie.

Arya wandered over to where Hot Pie stood, filling a glass pitcher full of wine from a large barrel before turning and handing it to her along with a chipped wooden mug. “Here you go, Arry,” he said looking down. Arya felt the lump form in her throat. She hadn’t spoken to Hot Pie since being exposed as a girl by Lord Tywin. She wasn’t sure how he would react to her deception.

“Hot Pie…,” she started, only to be interrupted by her friend.

“It’s alright, Arry. I understand. You don’t have to explain.” He said trying to reassure her. Arya looked at him, lost for words until they were loudly interrupted by the cook.

“Back to work, boy. And you girl, out of my kitchen or I’ll tan your hide,” he yelled, brandishing a large wooden spoon at her.

Arya ducked under his reach and rushed out of the door, clutching the wooden mug and pitcher of wine in her hands, careful not to spill any as she ran back towards the tower. Upon entering his solar, she paused in the doorway, waiting for Lord Tywin to look up and give her permission to approach. That was one of his rules. Servants stayed in the shadows until they were acknowledged by their betters. She had frowned when he informed her of that rule the first time she had slipped up.

“Come forward, girl.” He said, finally deigning to look at her.

She approached and bowed before pouring some wine into the mug and offering it to him. Lord Tywin paused, looking at her with a guarded expression. “Have you ever drank wine before, girl?” He spoke quietly. Before she could respond he spoke over her.

“Real wine I mean. I suppose you haven’t. This is Arbor gold. Brought from my personal stock in Casterly Rock. Take a sip. You’ll like it.” Lord Tywin spoke.

Arya hesitated, looking at him. “I shouldn’t, milord. It’s not my place.” She replied. She was scared, wondering what he was thinking.

“Its bad manners to refuse a lord’s courtesy, girl. Drink.” He said, a slight edge to his tone now.

Arya raised the cup to her lips and took a small sip, casting fearful eyes at him.

“Finish it.” He said his voice steel.

Arya tilted the cup back and quickly downed the contents, before looking at him. The wine was sweet yet potent and she hiccupped, a slightly glazed over look appearing in her eyes as she waited for him to speak. She recalled dimly that Hot Pie had not watered it down.

Lord Tywin was silent for a moment, looking at her. “Well, girl. What did you think of it?” He asked, voice quiet again.

Arya hiccupped again before quickly replying. “It’s very good, my lord. Sweet with a fruity aftertaste, but strong.” She said, unsure of what he expected her to say.

Lord Tywin considered her for a moment, and she looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. Suddenly he reached out, strong hands gripping her cheeks as he tugged her forwards, manicured fingers pulling at her eyelids, his blue-green eyes searching for something.

“Not a trace of red. Pour.” He said, sitting back in his chair.

Arya quickly obeyed and filled his mug, pausing as what he had said finally dawned on her. She struggled to control her temper as she realized he was using her like the proverbial canary in the coal mine, to test his wine for poison. She suppressed a glare and returned her gaze to the floor as Lord Twin drank his wine before setting the mug down on his desk and turning back to his work.

Arya stood to the side hiccupping, her eyes still slightly glazed as Lord Tywin worked, occasionally glancing over at her whenever she hiccupped, the noise starting to tick him off. He turned to her, an angry expression on his face.

“Stop that girl or I’ll cane your hide.” He said, focusing on his work again.

Arya’s mind was still a bit fuzzy. The strong wine was more than a match for her small frame. She blinked and shook her head, trying to focus, when a loud hiccup escaped her lips again. Panic-stricken, she froze, casting a fearful glance at the angry Lord Tywin as he stood, towering over her. He crossed the room and grabbed her by the neck, steering her roughly towards the desk as she struggled hopelessly in his grasp.

Tywin lifted her by her hips and dropped her on the large desk, his rough hands yanking her dress up around her waist exposing her slender hips as she tried to escape his grasp, serving only to anger him further. He yanked her smallclothes down around her knees, raising one hand and bringing it down hard over her upturned rear, causing her to yelp in pain.

As he smacked her Tywin found himself staring at her rear. He’d not been with a woman since his wife, Joanna had died nearly three decades before, and although she was still very young, he was more than aware that the child pinned to his desk would grow to become quite a beauty one day. He felt a stirring in his breeches that he tried to ignore as his hand paused, acting of its own accord, fingers caressing the firm cheeks, still red with the imprint of his large hand.

His breath caught in his throat. The feeling of her soft, warm skin stirring old memories, memories he had tried to put behind him. Long dormant urges, which he had spent years suppressing stirred within him, his fingers still teasing across her pale skin. He knew he shouldn't indulge himself, but his hand had a mind of its own.

Arya whimpered as he hit her, the force of his blows causing her rear to sting, bringing tears to her eyes as she struggled to keep from crying. She froze as his hand paused, fingers drifting downwards, brushing lightly against the soft lips of her slit, teasing them open as the pad of his thumb rubbed gently across the soft nub at the top of her slit, causing her to moan despite herself. She panicked, wondering what he was planning when suddenly the hand yanked away, and he barked an order.

“Dress yourself and go make my bed. When you’re finished you can go to the kitchen and fetch my breakfast.” He said in a harsh, choked voice.

With that, he pushed her roughly off of his desk and she stumbled to the floor, quickly pulling her smallclothes back into place and straightening her dress, before hurrying through the doorway connecting his solar to his bedchamber. Arya bustled about the room, quickly making the bed, ensuring the corners were neatly tucked and the pillows properly fluffed and arranged as her Septa had often lectured her, before hurrying down to the kitchens to fetch Lord Tywin's breakfast.

Entering the kitchens, she was overwhelmed by the smell of baking bread and fresh coffee brewing in a large metal tin over the fire. Walking up to the cook, she spoke quietly, still unnerved by earlier events.

“Yes. What is it, girl?” Weese snapped turning angry eyes on her.

“Lord Tywin wants his breakfast now,” Arya said, recovering a bit of her old bravado.

“Very well. Just a moment.” Weese said, grabbing a wooden tray from a nearby stack and bustling about the kitchen, leaving Arya to stand quietly by.

Arya returned to the tower a short time later carrying a tray of bacon, oatcakes, a couple of dried apples, cheese and a steaming mug of black coffee. She paused in the doorway until Lord Tywin looked up from his desk again and gave her permission to enter before quickly crossing the room and setting the tray on his desk, to the side.

As with the wine, he made her taste everything first. She glared at him as she did, still angry, but he ignored it as he picked at his food, his eyes drifting over to her more than once, causing her to swallow in fear, memories of her recent encounter with him still fresh in her mind.

Tywin sat at his desk, his mind racing. It had been a long time since he had lost control like that. Silently he began to curse himself for his weakness. He prided himself on not succumbing to base desires, but he couldn’t deny her tears and the fear in her eyes as he caned her had excited him. He enjoyed forcing her to submit as he had and the knowledge that she was powerless to resist him was incredibly arousing.

Tywin stopped eating and turned to face her, savoring the look of terror in her eyes as she watched him as though somehow sensing what was about to happen. He stood abruptly, and she began backing away from him despite herself, a terrified expression on her face which caused the bulge in his trousers to grow. He decided he wanted more. She was his servant; small and weak she couldn’t hope to fight him off. There was nothing to stop him.

He slowly walked towards her, savoring her fear as she trembled, backing up until she hit the hard-stone wall behind her, her terror-filled gaze fixed on the large bulge in his trousers, her gaze moving quickly up to his face, finding him smirking at her. An expression she couldn’t quite read in his eyes.

Tywin’s arms wrapped around her small frame, tossing her over his shoulder as she fought him, her small fists hitting his back as her short legs kicked out against his chest. He laughed cruelly, his free hand moving over her rear, fondling the firm cheeks and making her struggle even harder as he entered his bedchambers and dropped her on the large wooden bed.

Arya turned onto her hands and knees and tried to crawl away but he blocked her path, moving onto the bed and pinning her beneath him, his rough hands pulling at her skirts, dragging them up over her hips, her wide, terrified eyes gazing up at him. She stared up at him like a cornered rabbit as his hands tugged at her smallclothes, the soft linen tearing under his firm grip before raising the shredded fabric to his nose.

Breathing deeply, Tywin inhaled her scent, causing her to gulp as she watched him. He let out a sigh and his hands gripped the backs of her knees, pushing her short, scrawny legs up against her chest as he moved lower, only the top of his balding head visible as he nuzzled her soft, pale thighs, lips brushing against her slit guarded by a small patch of dark curls, tongue swiping out across the lips, eliciting a small startled whimper from the helpless girl. She tasted of fear and sweat and youth.

He nibbled softly on the backs of her thighs, his calloused fingers parting the soft lips as his tongue brushed against the soft nub at the top of her slit, making her gasp. Tywin sucked and nipped lightly at the rapidly swelling bud, his tongue teasing and tormenting it with gentle swipes causing Arya’s hips to buck as the confused and terrified girl’s head began to spin, unable to process these new sensations.

Tywin pushed his slick tongue inside Arya’s tight sheath, the velvet muscle thrusting, probing, teasing and tasting as Arya gasped and whimpered beneath him, her small body convulsing as her hands clutched desperately at anything she could find, vision blurry, unable to focus on anything but the balding head nestled between her short legs. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe, all she could do was whimper and utter nonsensical words and noises that even she couldn’t understand.

Arya felt a knot tightening in her stomach, her small hands clutching desperately at Lord Tywin’s head pulling it tighter against her. She wasn't sure what was happening but she knew she needed something. Needed more. Suddenly the knot burst and the pleasure overwhelmed her small body, her vision went dark and her body limp. She awoke a short time later, sitting up in the bed, her eyes blinking, beginning to focus and she froze, seeing Lord Tywin on the bed beside her, his breeches around his ankles, his hand gripping his cock, stroking the huge pulsing organ as he panted.

Looking closer at his face, she noticed his eyes were shut tight and he had a strange, intense look on his face. His free hand clutched her shredded smallclothes to his nose. Her gaze moving down, she watched as suddenly he tensed, and his member swelled before her eyes, shooting spurt after spurt of white goo onto his hand. She stared, eyes glued to his member, amazed with her mouth hanging open.

She had seen boys peeing while traveling with Yoren, but this experience was entirely new for her. He stopped suddenly, seeing her staring and smirked, pushing two fingers, coated with his seed into her open mouth. Instinctively her mouth closed, and her small soft tongue darted out, licking the white salty goop off his fingers, a quiet purr escaping her as she considered his face. He withdrew his now clean fingers from her mouth and gently patted her head, causing a red tint to appear on her cheeks…

“Good girl.” He said, standing and walking away from her.

TBC
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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl