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You doted on your young husband, that much was clear to anyone who saw you with King Tommen. Adored him even, he was the sweetest, kindest, person you had ever met. There was just one thing wrong with your situation: He was but a child. You loved him as you would a younger brother but it was hard for you to consider him a sexual partner. He still had baby fat on his face and sweetness of youth in his eyes. When your father told you you were to marry him you found it hard to even conceive such an idea. Sure he was the King of Westeros now that his older brother Joffrey was dead, but he was still a child. You had doubted his own ability to be king.
When the two of you first met you knew though that given time, Tommen would be a wonderful king. A kind and generous king.
He was ever sweet with you, calling you his queen far before the two of you took your vows, holding your hand whenever possible. Tommen even introduced you to his kittens. He was by far the sweetest of his family.
That was why during your wedding night you saved him the utter embarrassment of him having to bed you. Instead you tucked him in and the two of you slept peacefully in one another’s embrace. There had been no witness to your consummation, much to your gratitude. You wouldn’t want to put Tommen through such a thing as sex when he was clearly not ready yet. You doubted that he had even hit puberty yet.
You saving him from that did nothing to help your image though. Months had gone by after your marriage and you still showed no signs of carrying a child. Many viewed you with contempt and you even heard the harsh whispers of how Tommen should have married Margaery; that perhaps you were infertile. House Tyrell’s words of “Growing Strong” weren’t for nothing. They were as fertile as their lush land.
How could you though? How could you have intercourse with a doe-eyed child who still possessed the looks of a young boy?
At least there was one person on your side. Cersei didn’t look at you as such. In fact, you would dare say that she was rather fond of you. Everyone knew how Cersei didn’t like Margaery. The Queen Mother always felt like her daughter-in-law was up to something. Not you though. You weren’t trying to monopolize her last living son by getting pregnant. If Cersei was happy, you wouldn’t complain. You knew what happened to those who upset her. At best she shunned them. At worst, well, you’d wind up miles under the ground.
Maybe someday you would try to be physical with Tommen. Perhaps once he showed outward signs of becoming a man. Not anytime soon though.
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“(y/n), are you happy with me?” Tommen asks you one night, tucked into bed with Ser Pounce curled up next to him.
You were preparing to climb into bed next to him when you stop, knee propped up on the mattress. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Sweet eyes like green confections gaze up at you bashfully. Full lips curl down into a frown as he pulls the sheets closer to his chin. “Sometimes you don’t look very happy. I’m not a good husband. . .”
Heart faltering at this loving boy, you crawl into bed and run your fingers through his golden hair; soft as a feather. “Don’t say such things, sweet lion. You make me very happy. You’re a very attentive husband.”
“Are you sure?”
Beaming down at him, your body leans in so that you could kiss the bridge of his nose. Tommen still smelled fresh from his bath. “Yes, I’m very sure.”
Finally he smiles and innocently kisses you on the lips.
“Have sweet dreams, my king.”
Immediately after that, Tommen was fast asleep while you sat up in bed wide awake. What you told him was true. You were happy with him. How could you not be? But there was something missing in your life that you hadn’t been aware of before.
Hands linger down your body, stalling at the area between your legs. The presence of your husband was all too heavy. Recoiling your hands back up to the top of your sheets you recline your head back onto the headboard of the bed. Your body ached. It ached for something between your legs, something that would fill you to the brim.
There was a wave of shame that bathed over you. Shaking your head you decide you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. Quietly and carefully you slip from your marital bed and out the door. You really had no idea where you would go, but maybe walking around a bit would help soothe the tension between your legs and the racing of your heart.
He was such a sweetheart. You should’ve been happy with just that. Not everyone was lucky enough to be in an arranged marriage with such a kind hearted boy.
Your natural instincts were kicking in though, a more carnal instinct that was salivating at the mouth, begging to be fed.
“No, bad (y/n).” Scolding yourself quietly as you paced through the halls, your feet unconsciously walk to the path of the gardens outside. Fresh air would do you good.
“Cold night, isn’t it Your Grace?”
A chill runs up your back and not because of the aforementioned weather. Jaime Lannister. You knew it looked suspicious for you to be wandering the grounds at night.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You say while you turn to face him. “Thought maybe if I walked around for a bit it might make me sleepy.”
The light that cascaded from the swollen moon above illuminated Jaime’s armor and caught the gleam of his golden hair. Lannister gold. The same gold that your husband possessed.
Jaime too looked tired yet unable to bring himself to sleep. “Yes, I fear I suffer from sleeplessness as well. Surely your husband is missing you in bed.”
“He is sound asleep. Tommen won’t wake up until the morning.” Seating yourself on a cold, marble bench, you motion for Jaime to join you.
Clearly he hesitates, contemplating if it was appropriate to sit next to the Queen. Maybe even more so due to the fact that your husband was his nephew.
When you tilt your head there’s something that flashes in his eyes. You can’t quite describe what it was but it seemed to help him make up his mind.
He ducks his head as he takes the spot next to you, his armor clinking as he sits down.
“Why do you still wear your armor? Surely you would want to be rid of it as soon as you could. It looks terribly uncomfortable.”
Jaime chuckles and looks at you. Such pretty eyes like Tommen, but these were older and wiser. “I’ve worn this armor for so many years it doesn’t bother me one bit. My watch has just ended but I had to discuss something with the Queen Mother.” His mood darkens at the mention of his twin sister.
“Was it about something dire? Should I be concerned?” You sit straighter. Did it have something to do with the calamity in the north?
For you his mood becomes softer. “No need to fear, Your Grace. It was a personal matter. Not a good one though. Cersei is very upset with me.”
Relaxing a bit you unclench your fingers. “I don’t see why she would be so cross with you. You are the most upstanding night in all of Westeros. You escaped the Starks and came all the way back with only a missing hand. She should be appraising you.”
“Things have been different between us since the death of Joffrey.”
You grow quiet. Joffrey. You had heard about how terrible he had been yet everyone knew Cersei loved him with every fiber of her being. It was incredible when you thought about it. She loved her child so much that nothing he did could ever displease her. “She’s still grieving.”
A slight scoff breathes out of Jaime. “It’s more than that. But never mind. I don’t want to bore you with things that don’t concern you.”
“It’s not boring but I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” You didn’t want to push him into saying anything he didn’t want to. Never before had you had such a long conversation with Jaime.
There really hadn’t been any occasion that called for the two of you to speak with one another. Even though you were now part of the Baratheon-Lannister family, you and Jaime were in different stations. You were queen of all Seven Kingdoms while he was in charge of the King’s Guard in protecting you and your husband. Even though he had such an elite status it still didn’t call for much interaction with you. All you really knew of Jaime Lannister was what everyone else knew. Becoming a knight at such a young age, being inducted into the Guard, and slaying Aerys Targaryen. All of those things you didn’t hear from Jaime’s mouth though. They were common knowledge. You wondered what Jaime had to say about all of that.
Ever since he returned from being held captive he looked like a changed man. Not just because of his missing hand, but just the weary expression on his face. Maybe he was still haunted from all he had been through. Something you would never really understand.
You gaze down at your own hand. What was it like? He built himself up all because he was an excellent swordsman and to just have that taken away from him all of a sudden must have been traumatic.
“Ser Jaime, would you join me for a drink?”
“Normally I would pass it up, but I hear that you brought an excellent wine from your land. How could I pass up a vintage wine from the south.”
The two of you walked silently to an antechamber that had a door connecting to the room where your husband still slept. On top of a large oak desk is a beautiful chest that your father had given you as a wedding gift. Inside were hand-crafted glass bottles filled with rich, red liquid that was so utterly sweet that one sip was never enough. The sweetness hid the fact that it could make even the heaviest of drinkers intoxicated within a few moments.
You always thought those were just rumors that the vintners boasted.
Boy were you in for it.
Within minutes both you and Jaime had fallen into chairs, divulging in every woe that you had to deal with. From complaining, the both of you progressed into storytelling, sometimes raunchy many times hilarious. It had been a while since anyone had spoken to you like you were a normal person. Even those you had been close with had started to treat you differently now that you were queen. Why?
Nothing had really changed about you, just your title.
Candles burned brightly as you slumped forward onto the desk, laying your head down while you tried to recuperate from the laughing fit you just had.
“We should keep it down.” Jaime tries to say seriously but chuckles at the end. “We don’t want to wake your sweet husband.”
“He is sound asleep like the babe he is.” Snorting, you force yourself up onto your elbows. The world around you was spinning in a delightful manner. “I love him, I truly do, but I wish he were more of a man. He’s still but a child.”
“The sacrifices of women.” Jaime sighed in faux distress. “You want a man but get a child.”
Slurred speech you relax your back against the chair that was way too big for you. “I want a man.”
At that Jaime leaned forward, his green eyes covered in a haze. “I’m a man.”
“You’re a knight in the King's Guard.”
“A man no less. I have yearnings like any other healthy man just like you have cravings like any other healthy woman. That didn’t change when you became queen.”
It certainly didn’t.
Despite being drunk, everything happened so fast. You found yourself on Jaime’s lap, his hand sliding up your thigh and pushing up the hem of your nightgown. Your lips against his own as you go to unfasten his trousers.
It was a night of gold and red as he penetrated you for the first time, ruining you for all other men. Gold stars shot across your vision as a thin red trail of blood trickled down your thigh.
Unfortunately you wouldn’t quite remember the exact details. The next morning you woke up next to Tommen with a nasty headache, naked in your bed. The maid who had woken you up had quite a surprised expression on her face. It probably mirrored your own.
Words spread rather fast about what she had seen, proof that you had been with your husband in an intimate way. Even though you didn’t remember everything you knew that it was Jaime you had been with and definitely not Tommen. You couldn’t correct them on that though. What you had done was punishable.
You found it hard to look Tommen in the eyes after that night. Even harder was being around Jaime, which was all the time since he was in the King’s Guard. He didn’t speak to you of that night and seemed equally determined to not bring it up. You didn’t take offense to it though. It made things easier for you that he wasn’t trying to start anything serious. Whatever happened was a one time thing that wouldn’t occur again. That night was enough for you. He scratched the itch that had been bothering you, nothing more nothing less.
But it turned into something much more.
Weeks later you found yourself so utterly sick that you couldn’t move an inch without getting nauseous. Tommen hovered over you, worried that you were maybe dying.
His concern made you smile. “I’m alright sweet lion.” You try and reassure him. The maester was right next to Tommen, having inspected you to see what your ailment could have been linked to.
“Your queen is right. There’s is nothing wrong with her. She’s simply pregnant.”
Both you and Tommen stare at the older man.
In a little voice, Tommen whispers “Pregnant?” Dear gods you hoped that he didn’t know yet how babies were made.
You felt even more sick and not because of the baby that was growing inside of you.
The maester was beside himself with join. “Congratulations! Everyone has been waiting for an heir! This must be such reassuring news for the both of you.”
Yes, it would’ve been if the baby had indeed been your husband’s. Instead it belonged to his uncle.