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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.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
The next morning dawned all too soon, the sun’s rays shining through the stained-glass windows, casting a sparkling image of the Lannister lion on the walls of the room. Arya sat up in bed and stretched, shrugging off her blankets. Sighing, she hugged her arms to her chest, shivering from the cold. She was used to the cold, having lived in the North all her life but she had been born during the long summer and this was her first winter. Having spent the last four years in the south, she was still acclimating to the differences in the weather.
Meanwhile, the fire had died down and the room was cold enough that her breath misted the air. It had not yet begun to snow outside but winter was well and truly here. Missing her lord, Arya turned to the side and saw that Tywin’s half of the bed was empty. In his place lay a rose and a letter with her name on it. She picked up the flower and opened the letter, a smile forming on her face.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I can’t be here when you wake up, but I want you to know that before you came into my life my world was cloudy and gray. Since we’ve been together every day has become like a never-ending dream. I look forward to every minute we spend together. I love you, Arya.
Tywin.”
Arya climbed out of bed, clutching the letter and the flower to her chest, dressed in a pale red nightdress while serving girls filled her bathtub with hot water from the kitchens and scented it with her favorite lilac and pine scented bath oils. She had chosen these scents because they reminded her of home, lilac being her mother’s favorite scent and pines being the trees she and Bran had climbed together years ago before everything had changed.
After her bath, Arya dressed in a pair of breeches and a tunic before pulling on her tooled leather boots. Tywin had finally relented and agreed to buy her several of the outfits after her repeated protestations of wearing the elaborate dresses ladies were expected to wear at court. Nearby, needle sat on a table in her chambers.
With a smile, she recalled the day they set out from Harrenhal. It had taken some careful persuasion on her part, but she had always been clever and resourceful. With a bit of luck and a well-timed request, when Tywin was most vulnerable, she had convinced him to recover Needle from Ser Amory Lorch and return it to her.
After dressing she sat in front of the vanity in her dressing room and took a moment to admire the lion’s head pendant her lord had given her.
Shortly after arriving in King’s Landing, Tywin had surprised her with a small wrapped parcel and insisted she open it right away. Inside lay a golden lion’s head pendant with the mouth open in a silent roar. Overwhelmed by the gesture she took it, quickly slipping it around her neck before rushing forward to hug him. He smiled, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as she thanked him, promising never to take it off.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Flashback
Tywin entered the Tower of the Hand and walked into the sitting room he shared with Arya. Spotting her sitting on the sofa polishing her sword, he crossed the room and knelt in front of her, clutching a small wrapped parcel in his hands.
“Tywin. You’re back.” Arya beamed setting Needle aside.
“Yes, sweetheart. And I come bearing a present.” Tywin said with a smile.
“Really? A present for me? What is it?” Arya asked excitedly.
Tywin grinned and offered the small, neatly wrapped parcel to her. “Open it and see, Sweetheart.” He said.
Eagerly, Arya accepted the parcel and quickly unwrapped it, her breath catching as she saw what lay inside. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Tywin. I’ll wear it always and think of you whenever I look at it.” She said, fastening the pendant around her neck.
Flashback Ends.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Lost in thought Arya almost didn’t hear the knock on her dressing room doors before they opened, admitting her sister. Arya looked up, smiling as she saw her sister. “Sansa, please come join me,” she said.
Sansa crossed the room slowly, her hands fidgeting at her sides and an awkward expression on her face. At Arya’s invitation, she pulled a chair over and sat beside her, casting worried glances at her younger sister. Sensing something was bothering her, Arya turned to face her.
“What’s wrong, Sansa? You look like you have something on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.
Sansa’s nervous fidgeting increased as she struggled for words. “Arya, a…are you…well that is…um, Arya are you happy here? With the Lannisters…Lord Tywin I mean. Does he mistreat you?” She stammered a worried expression on her face.
Arya blinked, confused. “Of course. I’m very happy here. Why wouldn’t I be? Lord Tywin is a hard man, but he has treated me well enough.” She replied.
Sansa grimaced, worried about how to broach the subject of last night. “Well, it’s just that last night…I went to visit you and I…well…look Arya. I saw him rape you.” She replied rushing forward to hug her sister.
Arya stiffened, pulling back away from Sansa shocked. “You saw us? Sansa, he didn’t rape me. We were just fucking, that’s all.” She said, trying to reassure her sister.
Sansa gasped, shocked at both her sister’s explanation and choice of words. “Y…you mean you went to his bed willingly?” She replied startled and somewhat scandalized at Arya’s crude language.
“Of course. I enjoy being with Tywin in that way. I love him.” Arya replied calmly.
“But Arya, what about our family? What about your future?” Sansa asked outraged.
“I’m a Stark and I always will be Sansa. I love our family. But I love Tywin too. My future is by his side. Besides you shouldn’t speak ill of the Lannisters too much given your own betrothal.” Arya said angrily.
“What do you mean?” Sansa asked nervously.
“Lord Tywin intends to marry you to Lord Tyrion. You’ll be the future Lady of the Rock.” Arya replied as she stood and walked into the sitting room.
Sansa stood and slowly followed, a lump forming in her throat as she tried to process this new information. “T…Tyrion Lannister? They’re going to marry me to him?” She spluttered.
“Of course,” Arya said casually as she picked up an apple from a nearby bowl of fruit.
“But why? I mean I can’t. I’m to marry Garlan Tyrell and be the Lady of the Reach.” Sansa insisted.
Arya snorted, taking a bite of the apple. “Those plans are done and over. Besides, haven’t you learned the songs and stories you love so much are just that? Songs and stories. This is the real world and it’s far from beautiful. Besides, Lord Tyrion is a nice enough fellow. Sure, he drinks a lot and has a loose reputation when it comes to women of a certain profession, but he’s kind and honorable too.” She said as she turned to look at Sansa.
“A glowing endorsement indeed.” A voice replied from the entrance to the parlor. Walking forward, Tyrion Lannister entered the room, inclining his head to each of them in turn.
Arya turned to face Tyrion, motioning towards a seat beside them. “Will you join us, my lord?” she asked politely.
“Thank you, but no. I actually came to speak to your sister, my lady.” Tyrion said, smiling.
“As you wish,” Arya said returning to her apple.
Sansa stood; her head bowed as Tyrion approached. “Of course, my lord.” She replied and followed him to a nearby alcove.
Settling onto a small bench in the alcove, Tyrion turned to face Sansa who sat with her hands folded, looking nervous. “I assume you have heard by now the news of our betrothal,” he said delicately, his mismatched eyes focusing on her.
“Yes. My sister told me a few moments before you arrived.” She said, a slight waver to her voice.
“I am aware this is not what you might have wished for. Believe me, I wish I could have spared you this fate, that instead, you could be in the North with your family. But my father often gets his way in these matters.” Tyrion said quietly.
Sansa raised her head, facing him and spoke quickly to reassure him. “I will do my duty, my lord. As my sister has done.”
Tyrion grimaced but tried to reach out to her. “I know this marriage isn’t what you dreamed of as a girl, nor am I the groom you dreamed of, but I shall try to be a good husband to you. I give you my word I won’t force you.” He said, to which she nodded slowly turning to face him.
“I never thanked you for all that you did to try and protect me from Joffrey’s cruelty. You truly are an honorable man. Thank you, my lord.” She replied with a smile.
“It was nothing, Lady Sansa. Even if this marriage doesn’t please you, I shall do my very best to at least try and make you happy. Farewell for now.” He said as he turned, excusing himself and walked away.
Sansa returned to the parlor where her sister sat waiting for her. “So, what did he want?” Arya asked her while running a whetstone along the length of Needle’s blade. Tywin had permitted her to carry it around with her on the condition that it not be used to harm anyone and that she only practice with it in the old chamber she had used before with Syrio Forel.
Sansa sat and straightened out her skirts as she faced Arya. “He just wanted to reassure me about the betrothal and to make sure I was okay with him. Arya, must you carry that thing around with you? It’s not exactly fitting behavior for a lady, especially here at court.” She sighed, shaking her head.
Arya sat the whetstone aside and looked at her, Needle resting in her lap. “I’m not interested in being a proper lady. Besides Tywin doesn’t mind my having it and neither did father. He even hired a tutor for me. I’m hoping Tywin will agree to let me take up lessons again.” Arya replied with a huff.
Sansa shook her head and helped herself to a pear from the bowl on the table. “I can’t imagine what father and Lord Tywin were thinking to agree to that.” She thought to herself but said nothing.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Lord Tywin sat at the large wooden desk in his solar, several maps, letters and documents spread out on the large desk in front of him. He had spent the morning working on a scheme to free Jaime. A little over an hour ago he had finalized the first half of his plans and sent a letter to his agents in the Riverlands. It had taken a lot of coercion and more time than he would have liked but he had managed to settle a deal with House Frey to betray the North in exchange for a sum of Lannister gold and agreeing to invest Lord Walder’s son Emmon Frey, the husband of his sister Gemma, as the new Lord of Riverrun when the Crown reclaimed it from the Tully and Stark bannermen who still held it in Robb Stark’s name.
The siege of Riverrun had been going on for some time and Tywin was certain that it would soon submit to the Crown. The Lannister army had taken every other major holdfast and village in the Riverlands and Petyr Baelish had agreed to lead the Knights of the Vale west to help settle the siege once and for all after his marriage to Lysa Tully.
That had been an unexpected turn of events as well. It was well known at court that Lysa Arryn had been highly unstable. When her husband had passed mysteriously to the shock of many, she fled to the Eyrie with her young son. The young lord of the Vale was still a child and Lysa had been named as his Regent. As such she would have no end of suitors for her hand. For reasons unknown, she had chosen to accept a suit from Petyr Baelish of all people, who had been of minor standing before being given Harrenhal and the marriage contract was being finalized.
After Riverrun fell under the control of the Crown the Southern kingdoms of Westeros would be unified, and they could begin to consolidate for an assault on the Neck. According to Varys’s birds, Jaime was being kept in the cells beneath Riverrun, where the Tullys and Robb Stark were making their stand, holding out for reinforcements from the North, once the Ironborn were dealt with.
Tywin signed his name to the document in front of him and sealed it before turning to the raven he had selected to deliver the message, unwilling to entrust a Maester to deliver the message on his behalf. In this den of vipers called King’s Landing, nobody could be trusted. The fewer people who knew of his plans the better. He attached the scroll to the bird’s leg and opened the window in his solar. The bird promptly took off into the sky as Tywin stood back, stretching stiff muscles before pouring himself a glass of wine. If all went as planned, he would soon have his son back and the war with the Northerners would be over once and for all.
Now that one headache was over it was time to deal with another. Tywin pushed a hand through his thinning hair and finished his wine before leaving his solar and heading off in search of his daughter. Walking down the halls of the castle towards Cersei’s chambers he paused outside her rooms, the doors slightly ajar. Hearing noises from within he opened the door and strode inside looking worried. Entering her bedchambers, the noises grew louder, and he paused, shocked and furious at what he saw.
Crouched on all fours on the massive bed in the corner of the room and facing away from him, was his daughter Cersei. Behind her, naked save for an undershirt and his Kingsguard cloak, was the newly appointed Osmund Kettleblack. The pair were rutting like animals, the bed shaking as they moaned.
“CERSEI!” He thundered furiously.
Instantly, the pair on the bed froze and quickly pulled apart, hurrying to cover themselves. Ser Osmund moved back fearfully, unable to say anything, his mouth opening and closing. Meanwhile, Cersei stammered, nervous and terrified at the look on her father’s face.
Tywin turned to Ser Osmund and glaring at him, spoke. “Go get dressed and get out of my sight. Say nothing of this to anyone.”
Ser Osmund hurried to obey while Cersei wrapped the bed sheets around herself, swallowing nervously as she gazed at her father, her blond hair hanging loosely around her bare shoulders. “Father, I can explain.” She stammered nervously, casting fearful eyes at her father.
Tywin’s eyes flashed dangerously as he fixed his gaze on his daughter. “Oh, please do. I’d love to hear it.” He said.
“Well, we…we were just…um, you see we were only…” Cersei broke off when Tywin interrupted her.
“I understand perfectly, Cersei.” He replied.
“Really? Err, I mean you do?” Cersei said, in what he assumed was meant to be a reassuring voice.
“Of course. That’s why I’m going to give you two choices,” he said, voice eerily calm as he gazed at her.
“Choices?” Cersei asked swallowing nervously, forcing herself to look up and meet her father’s gaze.
Tywin fixed her with a stern gaze, nodding slowly. “Indeed. You have two choices. You can either agree to a betrothal between yourself and Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands or you can be disowned and exiled to the Free Cities, to live out your remaining years in poverty and despair,” He said.
Cersei spluttered before finding her voice. “I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not a broodmare. I will not be…” She started angrily but Tywin cut across her, his voice stern and full of anger.
“You are the Queen Regent a kingdom that owes a massive debt to House Lannister. A Queen Regent who is dependent on the wealth of House Lannister to sustain herself. Queen Regent of a fractured realm that is completely dependent on Lannister arms to maintain its stability and authority. Without House Lannister your son would be unable to maintain his hold on power and the rebel armies would long ago have taken this city and put your head on a pike. That support can all disappear if you refuse. I will put to rest these disgusting rumors about you and your brother once and for all.” He said, voice like a whip.
Cersei paused, clearly uncertain, before shaking her head. “You wouldn’t dare turn your back on our family’s claim on the Iron Throne. You’re joking…,” She said although she seemed to be trying to convince herself more than him.
Tywin raised an eyebrow, almost amused. “You’ve known me all your life Cersei. Tell me honestly. Have you ever once known me to tell a joke?” He asked looking down at her from where he stood.
Cersei gulped, her shoulders slumping in defeat as her gaze lowered to the floor. “As you wish.” She said in a quiet voice.
“And from now on you will cease this immoral behavior. I’ll not have my daughter behaving like a whore. I don’t want anyone to be able to question your character from this point forward. Now dress.” He said as he turned away from her about to leave the room.
“But you are content to keep your little Stark whore warming your bed,” she muttered under her breath, glaring angrily at her father’s retreating form.
Turning back, Tywin leveled an angry glare at her. “What was that?” He asked looking back at her.
Cersei mustered her courage in a rare show of defiance and spoke. “It’s okay for you to keep the Stark girl in your bed but it’s not okay for me to take a lover. Robert is dead and buried, Father. Where’s the harm?” She asked in a fury.
“That’s not the issue here. Taking a lover is fine as long as your discreet Cersei. Many people at court do so. The harm is having a steady stream of men parading through your chambers for all the court to see. Did you really think the rumors wouldn’t reach me Cersei? Half the court secretly calls you the Slattern Queen. These disgusting rumors must end.” Tywin snapped his face flushed with fury.
“I understand father.” She said shrinking back and casting her father a terrified glance.
“And what I choose to do with Arya Stark is none of your concern. You’ll keep to your own affairs and leave me to mine. Now I suggest you end things with your lovers. You’ll be sailing to Pyke soon to wed Balon Greyjoy.” He said softly before turning and leaving.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Returning to the suite of rooms that he shared with Arya, he entered the sitting room and found her settled by the fire, reading an old book on military strategy from his private library. Walking over to her, he smiled and carded his fingers through her hair. Startled, she looked up, nuzzling her face against his hand when she realized who it was. “Good evening, my lord.” She said, beaming up at him.
Tywin smiled, sitting beside her on the sofa and pulling her into his arms. The book she had been reading now lay entirely forgotten as his lips captured hers. Tywin placed a hand on her hip, his tongue slipping into her mouth as his hand moved down, cupping her rear. Arya purred, grinding her rear against his hands, her tongue wrestling with his. Her body came alive at his touch, warmth spreading throughout her body, his hands kneading her rear as the dampness built between her legs.
“Arya, are you…? Oh my.” A quiet voice spoke from the doorway.
The pair quickly broke apart at the voice, Arya moving out of Tywin’s lap and settling beside him on the sofa as she straightened out her clothes. “Sansa, what are you doing up at this hour?” Arya asked, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration.
“I…I…I couldn’t sleep and came to see if you were still up.” Sansa stuttered, backing slowly towards the door.
“I was waiting up for Tywin. What’s troubling you?” Arya replied worried, looking at her sister.
Sansa paused, fumbling for words as she looked to her sister. “I was just wondering if you would like to go riding in the Kingswood tomorrow morning after breakfast, that is if you don’t have plans.” She replied, looking nervously between the two.
Arya looked askance at Lord Tywin who nodded in reply. “Sure. Why not.” She replied smiling.
“Excellent. Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Sansa said, turning and quickly leaving their chambers for her own, immensely relieved to be free of the awkward situation.
Arya turned back to Tywin, biting her bottom lip. She grinned at him before standing and heading over to the doors, sliding the heavy steel bolt into place. Excited, she turned back to Tywin walking slowly towards him as she stripped out of her clothes before kneeling, naked at his feet.
Arya worked the laces on Tywin’s breeches, pulling them down along with his undergarments as he raised his hips. Arya grinned up at him and reaching forward she grasped his cock, stroking the shaft as it twitched against her palm, beginning to harden in her hands. She leaned forward, trailing gentle kisses and licks up and down the length, her small hands stroking his balls as she took his head into her mouth, sealing her lips tight around his thick shaft, her head bobbing slowly up and down.
Tywin gripped her head, his fingers tangling in her dark hair as he thrust gently in and out of her warm, wet mouth. His mouth slightly open, quietly moaning, his eyes half closed. Arya hollowed her cheeks sucking hard as her lord moaned, her tongue moving up and down along the shaft, teasing the sensitive underside before darting across the tip. When Tywin’s hips began to buck, she quickly pulled away as he got close, giggling as his eyes darted open, a frustrated whine escaping his lips as he looked at her.
“Don’t pout, my lord.” She said as she stood slowly, licking her lips, her body on fire as her juices dripped down her legs, she straddled his hips, settling herself over him, she gripped his cock and guided him slowly inside her, lowering herself down on him she began to ride him her hands resting on his shoulders. She braced herself, bouncing up and down along his hard shaft, his cock spreading her open, making her gasp as he filled her completely.
Tywin moaned, head tilted back, his eyes shut as his left-hand gripped Arya’s slender hips, guiding her movements, his right teasing her clit, gently pinching and tugging the swollen nub, making her whimper as her body shook, her movements erratic as her pleasure heightened, driving her close. She bit her lip, bouncing faster as her orgasm crashed over her, her mind going blank as Tywin lifted her off him, pushing her onto her hands and knees on the floor.
Moving behind her he guided his hard cock back inside her, thrusting into her dripping core fast and hard, his hands kneading her rear, moaning as he grew closer, his breathing heavier, he thrust deeply, his member swelling as he stiffened, spilling his seed inside her clutching sheath.
Completely spent, Arya collapsed against the thick, soft carpeting, moaning as Tywin pulled out of her, his hands roaming across her skin as they recovered their breath. He pulled her into his lap, his lips finding hers, he kissed her deeply, sighing as she melted into his arms.
“I love you, Arya.” He smiled, cuddling her against his chest, his fingers teasing along her jaw.
“I love you too, my lord.” She smiled, kissing his thumb before gently nipping the digit, causing him to grin.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Cersei fumed, pacing back and forth in her chambers. “How dare he…? I’m the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I must do something. I can’t let him marry me off again. I refuse to go through that again. There must be something I can do. If only Jaime were here…” She thought bitterly.
Stumbling across the room to the table, she poured herself another drink. “Sweet, perfect Jaime. Father’s golden lion. Mother’s favorite. The chosen one.” She thought with contempt as she downed her glass in one gulp and refilled it again.
“It had been that way ever since they were born. Jaime was the heir, the warrior, the one destined to inherit Casterly Rock even though she was the eldest. All because he was born a male while she had been unlucky enough to be female.” She mentally raged. Finishing her drink, she tried to pour another, but the bottle was empty. Tossing it aside she reached for a new bottle.
“Jaime is a lovesick fool who doesn’t understand how the world really works and Tyrion…that wretched misshapen mistake that killed her mother. I’m the only real son father has.” She thought to herself as she staggered around the room on unsteady feet.
She strode over to the table and poured herself another drink. She had spent the evening drinking glass after glass of wine as she fumed, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. She wrung her hands, fists clenching the folds of her dress, she swayed, making her way across the room and collapsed onto the bed, the world going dark around her as the wine took hold and she passed out.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
In a dark cell beneath the castle, Jaime mentally prepared himself. Earlier that day, a mysterious visitor had appeared outside his cell, cloaked and hooded. He whispered quietly, warning Jaime to be ready. Tonight, at the first watch, while the guards were changing shifts, they would break him out and escort him to safety…
TBC
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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl