
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11207349.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Tywin_Lannister/Arya_Stark, Arya_Stark/Tywin_Lannister, Tywin_Lannister_&
      Arya_Stark
  Character:
      Arya_Stark, Tywin_Lannister
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Older
      Man/Younger_Woman, Age_Difference, First_Time, just_because_i_can_:P
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-15 Words: 3782
****** A literate stonemason’s daughter ******
by Bulsara
Summary
     When Tywin Lannister needs to let off some steam, he makes his little
     cupbearer choose wheter she wants to finally tell him who she really
     is - or wheter she prefers being shagged by her Lord.
Notes
     I simply adore Tywin and Aya together, so this is the result of my
     latest fit of binge-watching. Arya is definitely very young, but
     actually at the same age as Dany when she was married off to Khal
     Drogo.
     English is not my first language, so please be merciful :)
Lord Tywin Lannister was stifling a yawn. It had been another long and tiring
few days, spent between piles of mind-numbing paperwork and his incompetent, so
called counselors. As if that had not been enough of a plague yet, it had been
raining cats and dogs all day, which resulted in an even chillier and damp
draft in the ancient halls of Harrenhal than usual. Tywin stood by the window
(if that was what you wanted to call the hole, that was left of it) and stared
into the torrential rain. In times like these he really felt every single one
of his 65 years in his bones.
Things had already started off on the wrong foot when he had had to find out
yesterday morning, that Amory Lorch, that blasted idiot, had actually sent a
letter containing detailed information on his army’s infantry movements to one
of Stark’s minions, instead of Lord Damon Marbrand. Gods, he was still furious!
That daft, impotent, miserable excuse for a knight, even too stupid to read
more than three letters in a row, had endangered Jaime’s life in his infinite
imbecility.
Only a few hours ago, he had thrown him out of his war council, after he had
had to realize, that his cupbearer read better than a knight. By the seven,
what had become of aristocracy?! To make things even better, he had had to deal
with Littlefinger only a few minutes later. He could, for the death of him, not
stand that little shit. A sleazy upstart, corroded by greed and lusting for
power. Besides, he was disgustingly convinced of himself and his cunning,
prattling about opportunities during times of crisis. What a finding,
impressive, indeed! Sometimes Tywin was inclined to wipe that predominant smile
off the man’s face with a dagger or an ironclad fist. Luckily, he had already
sent him off to the Tyrells, which meant he probably would not have to see him
again before his departure. One had to be grateful for small blessings.
Later that evening, he had been talking to his little cupbearer again. She was
a peculiar one and – much to his irritation – he could not figure her out.
Daughter of a stonemason, indeed. A stonemason killed by loyalty. She was a
girl, dressed as a boy, claiming to be from Maidenpool, but obviously lying
about that. Later she had told him something about being from Barrowtown, the
Seven knew whether that finally was the truth, though he heavily doubted it.
There was something familiar about her, but he could not quite put a finger on
it. The way her Grey eyes seemed to see to the bottom of his soul, as if she
knew more than he ever would. The way she moved around noblemen from all across
the country, the way she always seemed to have the right answers. What
unsettled him the most was her making him talk. He had told her things he had
not spoken of for years – and sure as the seven hells never to a stranger!
Jaime’s struggling when learning how to read. His father’s shortcomings. What
had he been thinking!? One look from her and he had turned into a babbling
peddler of fairy tales. He would have to be more careful around her in the
future, who knew what she would do with the information she had obtained from
him so far?
Tywin sniffed the arrow, that had killed Lorch, once more. Only a few minutes
after she had left him in order to fetch some more wood for the fire, Ser Amory
had entered his chamber, dying on the spot. Assassinated. An arrow, soaked in
wolfsbane, shot from a blow tube, if he were to guess. He had spent the night
roaming the castle, searching for an intruder. After that, all the guards had
been questioned, but apparently nobody had seen a thing.
By now dawn had broken, but still he was nowhere near the answers to the
questions the last day had raised. Tywin had absolutely no intentions of
finding an early death by the hands of some sneaky coward, who did not dare
face him in battle, but reverted to poison instead. A woman’s weapon. Still,
that did not narrow it down as much as he had hoped, after all he had probably
more enemies than there was water in the narrow sea.
After that, he had had another of these strange conversations with his little
cupbearer. Philosophizing about legacy, seriously? ‘You’re getting senile, old
man’, he admonished himself. She had surprised him again. All that talk about
Visenya Targaryen… who was that girl? A literate stonemason’s daughter, for
sure! Did she take him for a fool? He was almost sure she was highborn. Even if
she claimed otherwise, telling him something about her mother serving some lady
in the past. Always the right answers, it was infuriating!
Behind him, the familiar squeak of the door hinges indicated her arrival and
soon the scratch of a brush told him, that she had begun to scrub the floor,
just like he had ordered her to do. Tywin turned around and observed her from
his position by the window. Immediately, his assumption was confirmed. He would
bet that she had never cleaned a floor before. The girl was no commoner, that
much was certain.
Hmmm… She was kneeling on the stone tiles, moving back and forth, while holding
the brush with both hands. Her trousers were quite tight around her hips,
granting him a spectacular view of her firm backside, swaying up and down with
her movements. Seven hells… With a start the Old Lion registered a soft
tingling in his loins and a twitch in his trousers. ‘Oh, you gotta be kidding
me...’, he growled to himself, while cursing his body for its inappropriate
reactions.
Usually he enlisted a whore, whenever the need arose. However, on the rare
occasions that had happened before, he had always resorted to the best and most
exclusive establishments of King’s Landing or Casterly Rock, depending on where
he had stayed at the time. Discretion, cleanliness and skill were essential to
him, for the Lord of Lannister would never sully himself with a stinking, dirty
tavern wench, like his soldiers did. Unfortunately, Harrenhal was more or less
in the back of beyond, which kind of limited his possibilities down to nothing.
The local brothel was out of the question, as were the kitchen wenches or any
other kind of gossiping womenfolk living in the castle’s ruins. Damn it.
By the looks of it, the girl still had not realized, that he was staring at her
ass like hypnotized, while the twitch in his trousers slowly but surely had
turned into a throbbing hard-on. Tywin was gritting his teeth and tried to
regain control over his body, but failed miserably. It had been months. He
could not wait any longer. It was always like this, he denied himself as long
as he could, but when he was no longer able to suppress his body’s demands, he
had to fuck a woman as soon as possible. He had hardly finished that last
thought, when she wriggled out of her doublet and set to continue her work in
only a thin, threadbare shirt. Mother have mercy! The fabric was clinging to
her skin, damp with her sweat, revealing the soft curve of nicely developing
tits.
Tywin knew without a doubt, that he had to have her. She was definitely one of
the cleanest and healthiest girls around, probably smart enough not to tell
anybody about it and she was pretty enough for him to find satisfaction.
“Girl”, he said in a sharp tone. She immediately looked up and faced him with
mild curiosity. And once again he nearly lost himself in those strangely
familiar Grey eyes of hers.
What if she really should be highborn after all? Wouldn’t he ruin her by
breaking her maidenhead? On the other hand – if she really wanted to play
commoner, who was he to refuse himself a bit of pleasure? After all, that was
the way the world worked: Whenever a lord wanted to fuck a common girl, she had
to obey him or fear severe punishment. No one would judge him for taking her.
Still, he decided to grant her one last chance to save her honor.
“Girl, I know you are not who you claim to be, and that’s fine by me. But… as
it is, I need a woman to sate my desire. Were you a commoner, I would not
hesitate a second before taking you to my bed. However, if you should be of
high birth, as I suspect you to be, I would not want to dishonor you. So, girl,
tell me, which shall it be? The truth or my cock, hm?”, he declared
unrelentingly. One way or an other, she would reveal herself to him. Now.
Though he could not quite decide which one he would prefer.
Her eyes widened in shock and she seemed to hold her breath. Tywin mused he
could nearly hear her thoughts running wild. When she did not answer right
away, he went for the door and instructed the guard in front of it, to not let
anybody enter for the next hour. The girl still had not moved an inch after he
had strolled across the room and stopped right in front of her. “Choose, girl.
You can tell me your name and deal with the consequences. Or you can let me
fuck you and loose any claim you might have to anything your family might
possess. No one will marry a ruined woman, no matter her ancestry. Choose.
Now!”, he said softly, while his gaze was already roaming her petite body.
She really was small for her age, she did not even reach his chin. Silky hair,
flawless skin, expressive eyes… yes, she would grow up to be a beauty. Although
she would have little use for that once he was through with her. “I’m a
commoner, my lord. My father was a stonemason from Barrowtown”, she answered
determinedly, raising her chin and squaring her shoulders. She was a strange
little creature, indeed. “Fine by me, you have had your chance”, he growled and
grabbed her wrist, before pulling her after him into his bedroom.
She followed him without resistance, but he could see the horror in her eyes.
Tywin was many things, but a rapist was not one of them. He had never been able
to take pleasure in the way his men were assaulting women from time to time.
No, he would not have her screeching and sobbing underneath him. It would make
his release all the sweeter, if he could get his stubborn, cold, devious little
cupbearer to find lust in his arms, even against her will, if necessary. He
would make her come, no matter the time it would cost. He had always been a
patient man, if he needed to be.
“How old are you, girl?”, he asked when he pulled her shirt over her head,
exposing her upper body to the chilly air. “Fourteen next month, my lord”, came
her reply. He knew she had been trying to sound firm, but he still could detect
a little tremble in her voice. Her entire body was stiff like a board and she
had her hands balled into tight fists by her side. Tywin let out a sigh and
carefully cupped her cheeks with both hands. “I will not hurt you, girl, you
hear me? Other men might mount you like a bull in heat, but I am not one of
them. Yes, I will fuck you, but you will find pleasure in it, I promise you
that. Now put off your clothes and get into the bed, it’s cold”, he said as
kindly as possible. She bit her lip and eyed the door for a moment, but she
seemed to realize there was no escape. She would never get past his guards.
Finally, she obeyed his command and kicked off her shoes, before she got rid of
her trousers and smallclothes. Tywin groaned, when his eyes fell on taut legs
and a small patch of dark curls in between. His cock hardened even more as he
made quick work of his own clothing. While he approached the bed, she was
staring at him with wide eyes. Tywin knew very well, that he was fit for his
age, after all he still spent his mornings in the training yard. Her gaze
traveled down his chest and belly, before she gasped for air and took in his
member. Yes, it was big. She had probably never seen an erect penis before.
Definitely a maiden. The Old Lion slipped underneath the blanket and reached
for her, in order to pull her flush against his body. She let out a surprised
little noise, but did not fight him. Not yet, at least.
“Relax. This is the most natural thing. Your body was made for this and yes, it
definitely fits, believe me”, he whispered into her ear, before he kissed her.
Her lips were soft and delicious, sweeter than anything he had tasted for
years. With a deep moan, he buried his hands into her hair and held her close,
while his tongue was probing at her mouth. To his utter surprise, she melted
against him and granted him entrance. Her hands were resting against his chest
and one of her legs looped around his hips, as her tongue slid into his mouth
and ever so softly met his own. Gods, this was too good to be true! He nearly
could have believed, that she wanted it as much as he did. His fingers caressed
her pert little breasts, earning him a choked whimper from her. And then she
pressed herself against him…
Oh, Mother have mercy, she was rubbing her folds against his rigid shaft! Tywin
nearly would have screamed, when he found her dripping wet and ready. Fine, she
had been begging for it. With a quick movement, he had her on her back and was
hovering above her. “Spread your legs for me, girl”, he demanded and gasped,
when she immediately did as she was bid. She opened her thighs for him, as wide
as they would go, while her hands were stroking down his chest and down to his
bottom, where she clawed her nails into his flesh.
“Do it, my lord”, she whispered with huge eyes and bit her lip. Tywin was
completely dumbstruck for a moment, but his primal instincts simply took over.
Suddenly, his cock was gliding through her silken folds, finding the right
position and thrusting balls deep into her cunt. The slight pain, where she had
bitten his shoulder, brought him back to his senses. “Are you alright?”, he
asked huskily, but she only nodded and wrapped both legs around his hips. Her
hands on his backside were carefully pressing him even deeper inside her, while
she was gasping for breath and her eyes became as wide as saucers.
“Fuck, that feels so damn good! You fill me!”, she cried with such an
incredulous expression, that Tywin burst into laughter. “That’s more or less
the point of it”, he chuckled, shaking his head over her statement. “Now, shall
we begin?”, he purred silkily and pulled out of her, only to thrust back in,
coaxing a lustful scream out of her. Oh, he would make her explode around his
cock! She was so damn tight and hot and wet, it gave him the most delicious
kind of friction. With a deep growl, the Lord of Lannister began fucking his
cupbearer into the mattress of his bed.
She was so small underneath him, that his body covered her entirely. He was
looming over her, while shoving his dick up her cunt, again and again, harder
and harder. Her nails were leaving long scratches on his back, but he welcomed
the pain, it even heightened his arousal. Tywin closed his hands around her
shoulders and tilted his hips, to go even deeper. She moaned helplessly,
writhing and sweating under him and emitting a high, wailing noise, that seemed
to rush right down to his loins and turned him on to no end. Gods, he could not
remember the last time he had relished in a fuck like this. Had he ever been so
horny? His cock was hammering into the girl like a sledgehammer, drilling
mercilessly into her tight pussy, nailing her to the hilt.
“Oh seven hells, Tywin!”, she sighed breathlessly and he could not suppress a
loud moan, when he heard his name from her lips. “That’s it, girl, come for me,
do it, let me hear you scream!”, he groaned, as she tossed her head around on
the pillow and arched her back. When he pushed in even deeper, she went stiff
as a board and held her breath. Tywin bent down and sucked one of her tits into
his mouth. After that, she came with a primal scream, her cunt clenching down
on his invading cock, she was violently shaking and moaning her pleasure,
catapulting him over the edge, as well.
Tywin saw stars, when his penis exploded and his body felt like bursting. Surge
after surge of hot, thick semen shot out of him and filled her to the rim,
while he was desperately pressing himself inside her, roaring like the lion he
was, shaken by delicious convulsions and thoroughly milked by her quivering
cunt. Afterwards, he collapsed onto her, but somehow managed to roll over and
take her with him. She cuddled up to his chest and rested her head under his
chin, while his arms held her close. Gods, what had just happened?!
Tywin still could neither catch his breath, nor slow his racing heartbeat.
“Seven hells, girl, what have you done to me?”, he finally ground out,
completely and utterly exhausted. Damn, that had been better than everything he
had ever known before. Never had he felt such ecstasy. “By the Seven, I will
keep you, girl. You will probably be the death of me, but I will be damned if I
ever let any other man touch you after this”, he declared and meant every
single word. It was a shame he could not marry her.
After his first wife’s death, he had buried himself in his grief. It had taken
him years to realize, that Joanna never could have wanted him to mourn her the
way he had. He should have remarried and found his children a mother. The Gods
knew whether that might have saved his family, but as it were, he knew very
well, that he had lost both Jaime and Cersei during the months following their
mothers death. Once he had realized, that he could not spend the rest of his
life in mourning, he had half-heartedly searched for a suitable match but had
been disgusted by the dim-witted cows, that had been offered to him. Therefore,
he had buried himself in his work as Hand of the Mad King and Warden of the
West.
He had been quite content in his solitude, but now, that he had experienced
pure, complete, incomparable bliss in this girl’s embrace, he knew he could not
forego that in the future. If only she were honest with him and confessed her
ancestry to him! Maybe she would even be suited as a bride for him. She was
beautiful, cunning, smart, brave and educated. Everything he could want in a
wife. Even if she was so young he could very well be her grandfather, but he
knew an old soul, when he saw it. Her enticing body and her glorious cunt came
only on top of that. Who the hell had a daughter her age?!
His musings were interrupted by her soft voice, as she said: “My lord, are
you-...” “Don’t call me my lord, girl. I intend to keep you by my side, for as
long as I can, so you can as well use my given name, don’t you think?”, he cut
her off resolutely. That earned him a warm smile and pleasurable stretching
from her side before she spoke anew: “Tywin… I know, that this is most likely
going to be a mistake, but… you know, I’ve grown somehow… fond of you during
these last few weeks. You have impressed me, I never would have thought this
would happen, but it did. So, when you told me you intended to bed me today, I
was actually so eager to comply, that I did not reveal my identity to you. I
probably should have, but I wanted you so badly! Anyway, I need you to know who
I am, because I don’t want to live a lie any longer. And if you decide to
imprison me or to exchange me for anybody, I will have to accept that. At least
now I know what it is like to feel you inside me...”
She swallowed and eyed him nervously. Fuck, who was she?! Tywin could not even
feel any kind of triumph, because he had not been fooled by her disguise. His
curiosity nearly killed him. When she finally uttered her name, he could not
believe his ears: “I am Lady Arya Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark, Lord of
Winterfell, Warden of the North and Hand of the King.” What?! Tywin had never
been so utterly speechless in his entire life. He wanted to blurt out that she
had got to be joking, or something of that kind, but when he looked into her
anxious eyes, he simply knew it was true.
He had just fucked and deflowered one of the most noble, highborn and desirable
girls of marriageable age in Westeros. That was the moment his flaccid member
slipped out of her with a soft splashing noise. Damn it, why the hell had he
not recognized her before?! She was undeniably her father’s daughter, it was so
bloody obvious, now that he knew it! But before he could really grow mad at
himself, he realized, that he had just gotten exactly what he had wanted a
minute ago. If a Stark was no suitable match for him, he did not know what was.
He could not let her go anyway, she knew by far too much about his tactics and
plans, allowing her to leave his side would be madness.
Without a word, he set her aside and threw on a dressing gown, before walking
through the next room, yanking open the door to his chambers and bellowing:
“Find me a bloody Septon and a Lannister cloak!”
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