Visenya entered her chambers with a small sigh, only for her body to freeze at the spot upon seeing that there was someone in there. She expected them to be empty, but Tywin was waiting for her, a wine goblet in one hand as he was busy staring outside the open window.
"Tywin, you are back early," she said, trying to hide the small uneasiness his silent presence caused for a moment.
"The meeting ended earlier than expected. Where were you?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.
She removed her cloak and placed it at the back of an armchair close to the fireplace. "I went for a walk to clear my head," she explained, feeling his sharp gaze on her back. "I had escort with me at all times," she added, suspecting that he did not fully approve of her decision.
"Hmm," he exclaimed, hiding his second thoughts well and watching her as she headed for the small mirror on top of a low table.
She started to remove all the golden jewellery from her hair, arms and clothing. "The feast went rather well, I would say. I have gained the approval of Lord Mace and Ser Loras. Margaery plays it innocent, but I can see she is more cunning than others. I played my part and will keep playing until she forgets any of her suspicions as false thoughts," she explained.
She could see that he was tense, the meeting having frustrated him. Her absence did not help with his mood so she tried to make him think of something else, hoping to help ease his mind and maybe even focus on something else.
"Good. That old thorn, Olenna must have warned her to be careful," he commented as he let his now empty goblet on the table. "You were talking with Baelish before," he pointed out, a hint of jealousy becoming evident to her. "What did he want?"
"To try and charm me with his compliments like he does with all the court ladies," she explained. "He tried to intimidate me with words but I put him in his place. Lord of Harrenhal or not, he is my inferior at this moment."
She took out the pins that held her hair together and started to massage her head, allowing the silver-white locks to slowly fall on her back. She closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the feeling of freedom after hours of having her hair pinned up.
She had not missed that part of court Westerosi fashion and she was not happy to be forced back at it.
"He is getting bolder around you," he pointed out and walked her way.
Opening her eyes, Visenya pulled her fingers off her hair. "He won't succeed on anything. I made my position clear and Trystan scared him away soon after," she reminded him as he finally stopped right behind her.
She could see him through the mirror, his face and eyes dark and his gaze sharp. He looked at her back through the mirror before he placed both his hands on her shoulders, his fingers cold against her unnaturally hot skin.
His hands started to squeeze her shoulders, fingers pressing against her skin with a grip strong for the warning to pass. "Stay away from him," he said, but it was more of an order than a mere suggestion. "I do not trust him around you."
She smirked, always enjoying seeing his little quirks and actions of jealousy. "You do not trust any man around me," she pointed out.
The grip on her shoulders increased and she could feel the faintest of pressure from his side, almost as if trying to force her on her knees, but she resisted. If there was one thing he had never managed to tame her enough to do so, it was to kneel for him. She was too prideful to do so and she would fight him tooth and nail before she would give him that satisfaction.
She knelt for no man.
"Without me present, I do not, and I forbid," he commented as his grip relaxed.
He kept staring at her through the mirror and averted his gaze from her face to her exposed neck. He grabbed one strap and moved it to slip off her shoulder before doing the same with the other.
His lips were lowered and pressed against the soft skin of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent as his one hand moved to wrap around her body and stop lower than her stomach, very close to her womanhood, while the other returned to hold her shoulder.
Visenya closed her eyes halfway, feeling his breathing against that sensitive spot right beneath her ear and tried to keep her composure. She felt his one hand roaming her body even lower, going slowly; his actions were always confident as he knew every detail of her body and every place that made her weak.
"How did the council go?" she finally asked, suspecting the reason behind the sudden need for sexual contact, not that she ever truly minded.
"Useless, all of them," he said, his breath tickling her skin as his lips faintly touched her neck. "They left me with so much work to clean after them."
His grip on her body increased, his fingers squeezing her dress and pressing it over her womanhood, driving her crazy. His other hand kept her shoulder stable as he sunk his teeth right beneath her ear, to a soft spot that he knew made her weak.
He knew every part of her body, having memorized every reaction he could draw from them and to all kinds of degrees. He could feel the tightness in his pants when she gasped faintly and when her one hand moved to be placed behind his back and gently kept him closer to her skin; the darkness in his eyes got replaced by lust and need.
"Us," she managed to say, making him stop his assault on her neck and look at her through the mirror. Her cheeks were a faint pink hue, the dress threatening to fall off her body if she removed her hands, and he took a step back. "We are together in this mess," she reminded him, doing her best to keep her ground.
He never got a verbal reply but only a smirk, one that did make her feel uneasy. Those feelings were justified once she felt herself being pulled back and pushed onto the bed that was not so far away.
Her back fell on it, her legs touching the floor as she had fallen at the edge of it. She looked ahead and barely managed to react as he hovered above her, hands pinning her wrists right above her head.
She saw his eyes roaming her body, her dress having fallen off more than halfway and exposing the smooth skin of her chest and faint traces of higher abs. He kept that smirk that matched the lust in his eyes, his one knee placed between her parted legs and his other one bent on the bed, right next to her waist.
He said nothing, merely stared at her down before he let his lips fall upon hers with the usual hunger that accompanied all of his kisses. Rarely did they kiss and there was this sweetness behind it. Each time their lips met, they stubbornly fought one another for control and to take the lead.
This time, though, she did not resist him when his tongue entered her mouth and merely followed his lead, too hungry for his touch and his dominating presence to think of anything else.
He was always reserved, careful and restrained. Only when anger got the best of him would he become bolder and try to make her submit, something that always ended up with heat pooling between her legs; and his.
However, there were times she craved for his touch and for roughness, needing something more than the minimal physical contact the two of them had. She had her desires and her needs and so did he, but certain things truly triggered his.
There were times when jealousy and frustration would build up within him, threatening to overtake his thoughts. It was in those moments that Tywin wished to silence them all, to temporarily forget and release all that tension in his body.
He needed to quiet down all those voices, to forget the stupidity of the people around him, and he always knew exactly how. His antidote... his medicine to all of that came in the form of a stubborn defiant woman, whose presence both calmed but also aroused him without even truly trying much.
He had watched her today in that lavish red dress of hers. She proudly represented his house, she was the powerful Lady Lannister to all and that made him proud. However, it also drew the eyes of many hungry lords, who could care less of the wives they had left behind or had with them at court.
He had watched them all from a distance, how they looked at her like a piece of fresh meat and would have gladly tried their luck if Tywin was not the powerful man he was.
He watched as Baelish tried once again to be charming by coming too close, knowing fully aware that it would piss him off and often suspecting that he did it merely to make her uncomfortable and to test the patience of the Lion before he snapped.
He had been patient with all of that, not once letting his attempts truly affect him and neither letting his thoughts take control of his actions.
He had been patient throughout the small council despite all the fucked up shit he was left to deal with after his incompetent son and daughter failed to keep things in check and under control.
Now, he could no longer remain quiet and ignore all those things. Now, he could no longer be patient and an observer as the world around him threatened to collapse due to how useless most people were.
Now he could truly be with her and make her submit to him as he always did. Now, he could silence all those thoughts and let his mind drown in pleasure and bliss that he suddenly needed. She could be all-powerful and prideful outside, but behind that door, he was in charge and right now he needed her.
He focused on every curve of her body, his lips and hands exploring the map he had long memorized in his mind. He took pride in hearing her gasps and whispering pleas, unable to stop or resist him.
He left his mark upon her skin, each new bite for each lord that thought he could ever lay his hands upon her. Each new bite slowly calmed down his restrained jealousy. Each new bite made her weaker under his touch, made her beg under her breath and reminded him that at the end of the day, she was his .
He finally chose to answer her pleas and silence the thoughts in his mind. He kept her hands trapped, choosing this time to give her no chance for control. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and muffling his grunts of pleasure by biting into her skin, not caring about the mark she would have to cover in the morning along with the rest he had already left on her skin.
He wasted no time to pick up the pace, feeling her body welcoming him, fully fitting him as if she was made just for him. Her legs had secured themselves around his waist, the only way she could do something other than be fully at his mercy, unable to touch or hide or grab while he assaulted her body with bites and thrusts.
He gave into his carnal desires without hesitation and he could hear how he also fulfilled hers in the process.
Tywin Lannister was a man of many things and he was not going to lie when he said he was possessive when it came to his wife. However, while he barely let it show outside, he would always secure his claim of her when they would be alone in a room.
Visenya Targaryen was a woman who thrived on power and held it close, her ultimate weapon and security in this dangerous and corrupted world. She knew how to use it, she always accepted more.
Yet, she was never going to admit to anyone for that matter that there were times she would willingly give it away. There were times she would give it all away to the Lion that had become a permanent part of her life.
To the man who had stolen her heart, her mind and her soul a long time ago, forever taking her as his under the watchful eye of the Seven.
Xaro's Mansion, Quarth - Essos
After the events at the House of the Undying, Daenerys returned to her temporary home in Quarth with her three baby dragons. She still had Jorah and Dothraki under her command, which she put to good use.
After Xaro tried to force her into marriage once again, the Targaryen snapped. Having him tied and imprisoned, she allowed the Dothraki to sack the mansion and take anything they could find valuable.
They would need the money to get ships and Xaro had enough both in his precious little vault but also in the expensive items he had chosen to decorate his house with.
"Please, Lady Daenerys... I have ships! I have three and I can give them to you," he begged, afraid of the Dothraki standing next to him, ready to kill him with one single command from her.
"What ships? You did not mention them before," she pointed out.
"Give me one of your dragons, my lady, and the ships with their sailors are all yours. They can take you anywhere and carry your escort with ease," he said, fully exposing his constant attempts to marry the Targaryen descendant.
Daenerys glared at him, seeing that Jorah was right when he warned her. He was after her dragons but unlike the warlocks of the House of the Undying, he was far sneakier in his attempts to get his hands on her children.
"They are not your ships, to begin with," Jorah said as he approached them with a scroll in his hand. "Take a look at it, Khaleesi," the former knight said, passing her the scroll. "Those ships that he claims to have are from Master Illyrio, your latest patron."
Angry, she put the letter down and glared at the lying man, already tired of having to deal with him.
"Should I kill him for you, Khaleesi?" one of her Bloodriders asked her in Dothraki.
The Dragoness was thinking about it until she noticed that Jorah held another scroll in his other hand. "What is in that letter, Ser Jorah?" she asked him.
"I cannot tell, Khaleesi. It is written in a language other than Common," he informed her and handed her the scroll.
Daenerys looked at it, her white eyebrows frowning forward as she tried to read the language. Why does this look familiar but at the same time, it doesn't?
She looked at Xaro. "Can you read this letter?"
The man nodded. "I do, my Lady. It is written in High Valyrian, the language of your ancestors," he explained.
She had been taught how to speak High Valyrian but never truly learnt how to read it, for there were not a lot of books written in that language that were accessible to them growing up.
"What does it say?" she demanded and came closer to his tied form, holding the letter in front of him.
At first, Xaro thought of refusing, but Jorah placed his free hand at the base of his sword, making sure to let him know that he would become violent if he tried anything. Not wishing to lose his life, he started to read the letter.
"...I am done with the War of the Five and the sea is open once again for trade. I do wish to know of the latest products exchanged between the cities to arrange a new trading contract between us... I await your response by crow. Remain quiet of the upcoming agreement, hungry hawks are circling..."
He finished translating, making Jorah and Daenerys exchange a look.
She then turned to the exiled knight. "What war is this letter talking about?"
He shook his head. "I do not know, Khaleesi. I suspect some civil war between the great houses of Westeros. It is not uncommon to take place every few years," he explained and then thought of something. "If that person were involved in the war and had connections all the way here, must be some Lord Paramount that most likely wants information on you. However, I am afraid that I do not recognise that House seal."
Or they could be Varys. That eunuch has eyes and ears everywhere even without my help, he thought in his mind but said nothing out loud.
Daenerys looked at the scroll and rolled it until the two broken ends of the red wax seal could meet. She tilted her head faintly to the side and moved closer to a window, hoping to see better with the rays of sun above the destroyed sigil.
"This... looks like a dragon of some sort," she pointed out, unable to also recognise the sigil.
"I do not think it belongs to any House, Khaleesi. Maybe it is used to make the scrolls stand out or be part of something bigger that has to do with you and your family?" he suggested.
"My brother always said we had allies waiting for us in Westeros. Maybe it is one of them," she thought out loud and then turned to Xaro. "Who sends those letters? There is no name at the bottom of it."
Xaro shrugged his shoulders. "I do not know, I have never met them. My father established contact with them and later taught me the secret code. I swear I never received a letter from them until recently," he confessed and somehow Danny knew that he was telling the truth.
Getting frustrated, she turned to Jorah. "Was there anything else on it or near where you found it?" she asked, hoping to find answers or at least find something more than just this useless letter.
"Only this," the Westerosi knight said and showed the coin in his palm.
Daenerys' violet eyes opened wide and she took it in her hands. She inspected each side of it, seeing the Targaryen three-headed dragon on it. She started to connect the dots and remained quiet for a moment too long as she tried to process all that information.
"A dragon never forgets," she mumbled.
"What was that, Khaleesi?"
"A dragon never forgets," she repeated. "Those were the words every patron of us would say after sheltering us. I remember seeing the same coin on their desks, even Master Illyrio had one."
Jorah seemed to catch up with her thoughts. "You think that whoever wrote this letter is an ally?"
She gave a small smile, finally seeing something positive after all those weeks of death, exhaustion and blackmail. Just then, she remembered the vision of the woman helping her escape that snowstorm and find her dragons while in the House of the Undying.
"Not just an ally... I think... I think they might be family."