
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/385071.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Jaime_Lannister/Catelyn_Tully
  Character:
      Jaime_Lannister, Catelyn_Stark
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-17 Words: 3828
****** a place where no one knows where we have been ******
by hesperia
Summary
     Jaime Lannister visits the Riverlands for the first time.
Notes
     Catelyn is 16 in this fic, Jaime is 15.
In the fornight before Jaime Lannister arrived in Riverrun, it was all Lysa
would talk about. Catelyn knew her younger sister had been told by her father
that he hoped to make a match between them, and while Catelyn understood her
sister's excitement at the prospect, Catelyn felt that her lord father should
have known better than to speak such things to Lysa so soon into the
preceedings.
Catelyn thought often of her own betrothed, Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell.
Though they had only met a handful of times, Catelyn had seen a fire in Brandon
that had warmed her through, and she cared deeply for him.
"They call him the Lion of Lannister," Lysa said, as they sat on the banks of
the river. Lysa had her head in Catelyn's lap, as Catelyn braided tiny white
flowers into her sister's hair. "And," she said, turning over to lie on her
stomach and look up at Catelyn, "Ser Arthur Dayne has knighted him. A knight,
Cat! I'm going to be married to a knight, and I'll be Lady of Casterly Rock."
Lysa let out a long romantic sigh and flopped back into the grass.
Catelyn had to smile, she wished she had some of Lysa's unending optimism.
While she did love Brandon, she was not so excited or happy to be leaving the
Riverlands for the cold North. She knew Winterfell was large and beautiful, and
it would be a high honor to be Lady of Winterfell, but Catelyn hated the cold,
had always hated the cold, and the thought settled uneasy in her chest.
"Do you think they have real lions?" Lysa asked, sitting up on her elbows. "I
don't know if I would like to have lions. They are so large, and unpredictable,
but yet again, if Jaime, I mean Ser Jaime, could protect me, than I shouldn't
worry much at all about them."
Catelyn was about to respond when she saw Petyr walking towards him. She waved
at him, and she bit her lip as his face lit up, and he picked up his pace. She
knew that he had feelings for her, feelings that went beyong that of a brother
and sister. And although they were not truly brother and sister, that was how
Catelyn thought of him, her little brother, just like Edmure.
"Hello Petyr," Catelyn said, as he came within speaking distance. "Isn't it a
lovely day?"
"It is indeed, Cat. Hello Lysa."
Lysa smiled, dreamily, and Cat was not sure if it was because of Jaime or Petyr
that the smile on her face formed. Perhaps both, Lysa was often one for ever
changing fits of fancy. Petyr settled himself down against the trunk of the
large tree Catelyn and Lysa had been sitting under. He had a sweet face, though
small in stature, and what he lacked in physical prowess, he made up for ten
fold with his quick tongue and sharp humour.
"Lysa was just telling me that Ser Jaime Lannister has been knighted by Ser
Arthur Dayne. That's quite a feat, insn't it PEtyr?"
Petyr hummed in agreement, but he, like Lysa, seemed to very far away in his
thoughts. Well, thought Catelyn, I might as well just be talking to myself. She
stood up and stretched her arms above her head, tucking her long auburn hair to
one side as she made her way down the bank.
Slipping off her shoes, Catelyn stepped down into the sand of the bank, she
love the feel of teh sand sliping between her toes, the water washing over the
tops of her feet, it was so refreshing. She heard Lysa scream and Catelyn
turned, her feet slipping as she did and she fell backwards into the river, the
water swirling around her, pulling her down into it.
Catelyn struggled, her skirts were tangling in around her legs and she was
frantic as she pushed her way to the surface to gasp for air. The water was
rushing faster now, and Catelyn took a deep breath before she was pulled under
again, kicking as she went. It had been some time since she had been swimming,
but the muscle memory was starting to kick in, and she pushed against the
current, trying desperately to make her way to the shore before the banks of
the river steepened.
She pushed her head above water, and her arm shot up grasping for a branch, a
rock, anything. And then she felt it, the warm, hard grip of someone's hand and
arm, locking with hers, pulling her towards them. She felt another hand cup
underneath her arm and then she was free of the water, choking and sputtering
as she lay on the grass.
In the distance she could hear Lysa crying, and Petyr's soft whispers, but when
she opened her eyes it was not Lysa or Petyr's face that she saw. Green eyes
looked back at her, clear and deep. "Thank you," she said, hoarsely, before
closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.
Lysa and Petyr were there soon enough, and Lysa was hugging her tightly,
stroking her hair, her face, and Catelyn could feel Lysa's tears falling onto
her face, hot and salty as her younger sister sobbed above her. "It's okay,
little one," she said, as she sat up slowly. "It's okay, I'm alright." She
brushed her sister's cheeks, and they held each other.
"Ser Jaime saved you!" Lysa said, when she'd finally stopped crying. "He pulled
you out of the river!"
Catelyn looked up at the young man in surprise. He was tall, almost as tall as
Brandon, and Catelyn had to strain her neck to look up at him. He was
beautiful, unbelievably so, and Catelyn was surprised that a man could look so
beautiful.
"Thank you, again, Ser Jaime," Catelyn said, as she stood, her skirts drenched
and sticking her figure. She pulled at them, self consciously but it did little
to hide the shape of her figure.
"Your sister seemed quite worried for your safety, Lady Catelyn. I was only
happy to be of assistance."
At dinner, there was little talk of Catelyn's mishap in the river, and she was
grateful for it. Although her father was a patient man in many ways, he would
not take kindly to his daughters traipsing around the countryside if only to
get into trouble. I would have been able to make it to shore by myself
eventually, Catelyn thought, as she watched Jaime talk animatedly to her Uncle
Brynden, and Lysa, sitting next to Jaime, stared at him fondly, though made
little more than a peep through the entire meal.
At one point Lysa looked as if she might burst if Jaime did not speak to her,
and she looked pointedly at Catelyn, her eyes begging her sister to help.
Catelyn cleared her throat. "Ser Jaime, do you play cards? Lysa and I have just
discovered we are quite the pair. Perhaps you and Petyr would like to match us
after the meal?"
She saw her father smiling approvingly at her, and Lysa was absolutely glowing
at the opportunity. "I have played cards in the past, Lady Catelyn, but I am
afraid I'm not the good. Perhaps you and Lysa would make it a fair fight by
pairing with Lord Littlefinger and I."
It was not quite the response that Catelyn was expecting but she nodded,
convinced that for the time being, it would quell Lysa's anxiety over the
situation. It was only later, when they were in lord's solar that Catelyn
understood what Jaime had meant. He sat down across from her, meaning that they
were to be partners. She knew Lysa would be disappointed if she came in and saw
Jaime sitting opposite Catelyn, and yet, it would be insulting to Ser Jaime to
get up and move spots. Perhaps we could switch halfway through, Catelyn
thought, then Lysa would get her chance to play with Ser Jaime and I wouldn't
insult him.
Lysa didn't seem to be affected by Jaime's choice in partner, and she sat down
next to him, smiling sweetly, if not a bit nervously. Jaime was in fact quite
horrible at cards, and was forever forgetting which pair was trump, or stealing
the trick when Catelyn was already winning it. Thus, Lysa and Petyr were
announced the winners of the first round.
"Perhaps we should switch partners," Catelyn suggested. "I'm sure Ser Jaime
would much rather have a partner who can win tricks."
"Oh yes," said Lysa, forgetting poor Petyr sitting across from her. "Would you
like to switch?"
Jaime smiled at her, and winked, but he turned to Catelyn. "Lady Catelyn,
should we not persevere, then our reward will be so much sweeter when we do
win."
The tone of his voice was implicit, and Catelyn had the distinct feeling he was
no longer talking about the card game. Though she did not know what his
intentions were, he knew she was betrothed to Brandon Stark, her father had
spoken of the engagement at supper, and yet, the way he was looking at her, it
spoke of something else entirely.
"The choice is yours, Ser Jaime. I meant no offense." Catelyn said, her voice
slightly more hostile then she'd meant to sound.
"Then, I believe, sweet Lysa, it is your deal." He handed the pack of cards to
Lysa and the game began once more. They played several more rounds, and they
did eventually switch, when it became clear that Lysa and Petyr would not be
beat. With Jaime at her side, instead of across from her, Catelyn was able to
better asses the young man. Jaime's hair was as blond as her was red, and his
bright green eyes seemed to dance as he spoke, glittering like emeralds.
Catelyn shook her head, she was beginning to sound like Lysa and her love
songs, but Catelyn could not deny he was an extremely handsome young man, even
under his tunic and shirt she could tell he was muscular. And she had felt his
strength earlier that day, when he had pulled her from the river.
"Cat, it's your turn." Petyr was saying, and Catelyn threw down a card, carely
paying attention to it. Petyr groaned and Catelyn realized she'd cost them the
hand when she could have stolen it with a different card. She smiled at him
apologetically.
"You are distracted, Lady Catelyn," Jaime said, leaning over to talk to her
quietly as Lysa and Petyr argued over the rules of the game. "Are you sure your
mid day swim hasn't affected you?" His question was sweet and polite, but the
look in his eyes was obscene, and Catelyn flushed. What had gotten into her?
Was she so weak as to let the vulgar suggestions of a boy one year her junior
affect her so?
"If you'll excuse me, I feel most unwell, I think I will retire now." The boys
stood as she did, and she nodded her head at them both before leaving the room
and running up the stairs to her tower. Her heart was racing when she made it
into her chambers and she leaned against the wall to steady herself. She had
never had such a physical reaction to a man before, not even Brandon, and she
was overwhelmed and surprised by it.
She undressed quickly, her lacings feeling to tight around her chest, and she
breathed a deep sigh as she sat down on her bed in just her shift and small
clothes. Her hand was over her chest, and when she drew her hand away, the
inside of her arm grazed over her breast and Catelyn shuddered plesantly at the
touch.
She looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to pop out and yell at
her, but no one did and she went to the door, locking it. Standing in front of
her mirror she pulled her shift over her head, and stepped out of her small
clothes until she was naked in front of the mirror. Her nipples were small and
pink, and sat high in the middle of her breasts, both hardened peaks as she ran
her fingers over them, gasping loudly as a jolt of pleasure ran down her body
to between her thighs.
She continued to stroke her breasts, fingers taunting her nipples as they
played and pulled on them, and when Catelyn closed her eyes it was not
Brandon's face that she saw, and it was not his face that was causing this
reaction in her. Green eyes haunted her and her own flew open, her face flamed
in shame and she crawled into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
She would not think about him, not anymore, and she would try hard to make him
notice Lysa, to make him love Lysa. She would do that, and it would make her
forget about this night, and these feelings, and how she felt betrayed by her
own body. And most certainly, she would forget how much she loved it.
The next few days flew by quickly, and Catelyn had put her plan into motion.
Jaime and Lysa were to be seated together at every meal, they were to always be
partners at cards, and when the four of them went out riding, her and Petyr
would take the lead, letting Jaime and Lysa trot along behind them. Petyr
seemed quite alright with Catelyn's idea, and Catelyn was grateful for his
help. He told Catelyn that he had even gone as far as to suggest Lysa's beauty
to Ser Jaime on numerous occasions, and Jaime had been in agreement.
"You'll see, Cat," Petyr said, as they swung off their mounts, tying them to a
tree. "By the end of this fortnight, your father will send a raven to Tywin
Lannister."
Catelyn hushed him as Jaime and Lysa approached, and Catelyn watched as Jaime
helped Lysa down from her horse, her small hands resting on his shoulders as he
wrapped his own hands around her waist to lift her down.
Catelyn wondered absently what his hands would feel like on her waist. They
were large and strong, with long fingers, and perfectly shaped nails.
Everything about him really was beautiful, even his hands.
They ate their picnic on a blanket, on a hill that overlooked the Tumblestone
river. The same river that Catelyn had fallen into only a week ago. Had it
really only been a week? Catelyn felt as though it had been months since Jaime
Lannister had arrived in Riverrun. She had just finished the last of her
honeyed milk when Petyr suggested a game of hide and seek. She was too old to
play such games, they all were, but Lysa and Jaime had been easy to convince
and so Catelyn acquiecsed.
They drew blades of grass from Jaime's hand and Lysa was the seeker first, so
she turned her back, hands over her eyes as she began counting. Petyr took off
in one direction, and Catelyn went in another, with Jaime close on her heels.
Catelyn knew these lands better than most, and she easily found a copse of
trees, with one very large tree in particular that Catelyn could step into that
would hide her well. "Find your own spot!" she said, laughing, as Jaime came
running past, but Lysa's voice could already be heard, and Jaime ducked into
the tree next to Catelyn.
Their bodies were flush against each other, and Catelyn had to tilt her head up
to keep from resting her face against Jaime's chest. They stared at each other,
mouthes slightly open as they breathed heavily from the run. Jaime's hand
cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, stroking the corner of her
mouth until he leaned down and kissed her.
At first it was a chaste kiss, just the press of his lips against hers, but
slowly the urgency began to build, his actions began to deepen, quicken, and
suddenly Castelyn felt her mouth open under him, his tongue snaking into her
mouth. She mimicked his actions, pushing her tongue into his mouth, tasting the
flavour of him, until she drew away, her back pressed against the tree.
Her chest was heavy, and his hands were on her hips, pulling at her to come
closer, but she twisted out of his grasp, out of the tree. She ran, past
Petyr's confused stare, past Lysa's shouting, until their bodies were specks in
the landscape of the Riverlands. Catelyn ate in her bedchamber that evening,
feigning illness and a head ache when Lysa came to see what was wrong with her.
Alone with a tray of food, she barely picked at it, her appetite lost in the
overwhelming confusion of her heart.
It was well past midnight when she heard the knock on her door. She clutched
her dressing gown tight around her and pulled open the door to her chambers.
Jaime stood before her, in his breeches and softspun shirt, his hair tousled
from sleep. She wanted to hit him, to punch him and smack him for what he had
done in the woods, but yell and scream at him for making her feel this way, so
incredibly confused and anxious, needy and wanting. Instead, she stepped aside
and let him into her chamber, checking the hallway quickly before closing it
behind them, locking it.
He picked her up when she turned back to face him, and her legs instinctively
wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck as their mouths met in the
dark of her room, as if drawn to each other by some true north. He rested an
arm under her bottom, holding her as the other twisted in the back of her hair,
pulling her head back forcefully to expose her neck. He kissed her there, on
her neck, sucking and biting the soft skin, marking her as his own. Catelyn's
fingers dug deep into the flesh of his shoulders and her nails scraped along
his skin. She'd marked him too, not that he was hers but she'd marked him
anyway.
When they hit the bed she fell first, and he landed on top of her, his hips
between her thighs, the hard length of his cock against her most private areas.
She gasped at the feel of it, hot and heavy, and the reality of this situation
suddenly dawned on her. She clawed at him then, pushing him away until they sia
on opposite ends of the bed, panting like hard rode horses. "I can't," she
said, through laboured breaths. "Jaime, I can't."
"Just let me touch you," Jaime said, his voice desperate with want. "I need to
touch you. Just once."
Catelyn knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't seem to help herself when it came
to Jaime Lannister, and she let him draw her shift up her legs, over the swell
of her hips and then over her head, throwing it behind him as he stared at her
naked form. His touches were gentle, down along her arms, over her collarbone,
even when he cupped her breast he did so tentatively, tenderly, as if he'd
never touched anything as perfect or as breakable as Catelyn Tully. Not that
she was breakable, but that she was the only one he had touched, the only one
he had ever looked upon with the desire she saw in his eyes. She did not know
if this was true, but she let herself believe it.
He pulled her down to lay on the bed, as he kissed all over her body, over the
back of her hand, the top of her wrist, holding it against his mouth and nose,
inhaling in the scent of her. It made her shiver, to have his mouth on her in
so many ways, but it was not until Jaime kissed the crease of her thigh that
Catelyn jumped slightly, and pushed her legs together, albeit haphazardly as
they parted easily again when he pushed them open.
Jaime's mouth was warm over her skin, and she gasped at the way his tongue felt
against her flesh, slick and warm, the tip of it seeking for something Catelyn
did not know until he found it and she moaned inspite of herself, her hips
pushing wantonly up against his mouth. He continued that for some time, licking
and sucking on her flesh, until Catelyn had to bite down hard on her pillow as
a wave of pleasure exploded in her, out of her, surrounding her in the most
intense and wonderful feeling she had ever experienced.
When he was done he moved back up the bed, his face still wet from her sex but
he kissed her anyway, and Catelyn found it was not so unpleasant, and she
licked at his chin, as the creases of his mouth. "How did you know...to do
that?" Catelyn asked, still in a state of bliss.
Jaime shook his head, "It doesn't matter, only that you liked it. You did like
it, didn't you?" he asked, teasingly. And she laughed, nodding her head.
"Yes," she said, breathlessly as she kissed him again and again. "Yes, so
much." When she said this, she felt him push slightly against her, the head of
his cock rubbing over the point of her hip. He was still hard, maybe even
harder than before, and Catelyn cautiously reached down into his breeches to
wrap her fingers around his cock.
Jaime let out a moan at her touch, his face pressed against her neck as she
stroked him slowly, drawing her hand up and down his cock. He was very smooth,
silky skin that stretched and moved as she touched him. A bead of slick, clear
liquid pearled at the top of his cock, and Catelyn rubbed her thumb over it,
spreading it over him, causing him to groan even louder. He took his cock in
his own hand then, stroking it harder and faster than Catelyn had before.
Sitting up on his knees, he continued to pump his fist harder over his cock,
his free hand pushing open Catelyn's legs.
When he came, he grunted, gripping one of her hips in his hand as he spilled
his seed onto her belly. It was hot and white and thick, and Catelyn was so
surprised by the suddenness of it all she had little time to be repulsed by the
act, moreso curious. He dropped onto his back beside her, and she could feel
the heat of his arm against her. She ran her finger over her belly, through his
seed, feeling the slick of it on her skin. Pulling off his shirt he wiped her
belly, and her hand, and pulled her to curl into him, her back to his chest.
She was still a maid, yes, but there was nothing maidenly about Catelyn Tully,
not now.
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