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Marriage a trois

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He gave up.
The kingsguard, the little honor he had left, his love.
He made his father happy.
He rescued his brother.
He broke his sister's heart.

Joffrey's widow, his son's widow.
Ten and six names day, teen and eight younger than himself.
An innocent maiden who had been a queen for a mere hour, now the wife of the kingslayer, the Oathbreaker, but what mattered for the Tyrell’s, the King’s uncle and one day the next Lord Lannister.
Tyrion would live with him at Casterly Rock, away from father and her.
She hadn't spoken with him at all.
Joffrey's death, Tyrion's rescue, his father's marriage projects, his own wedding…
Frenzy preparation, turmoil, but his sister’s silence outdid everything.

She had looked stunning, for him even more than the bride herself, she had laughed with Mace Tyrell and lord Tarly, had been joyous and merry telling everybody how she had always wanted a sister.
False as fool's gold.
She couldn't refuse him a dance not before everybody.
They had danced. Perfect together, like always. They had learnt together how to dance, sometimes changing roles and clothes, they knew exactly the rhythmus of each other steps.
She had been forced and stiff, touching him as less as possible.
"I hate you" she had whispered

"I'm sorry I'm not to your taste mylord"
He couldn't believe it. He hadn't be able to bed her.
She was beautiful, and while it was true he'd only slept with Cersei, his body had reacted to other women.
He left for Casterly Rock a fortnight later. He had obtained not only his brother's life, his father had reassured him he wouldn't force Cersei to a new marriage.
Away from her he could surely perform his husband's duty.

Margaery was clever and comfortable, but it wasn't her face he saw while his hand rubbed his cock.
His brother's left him, not before telling him what Cersei had done with Lancel.
It was still her face he saw while rubbing his cock, but his hand was harsh and his heart filled with rage.
She came to him two moon turns after his wedding.
The most humiliating time in his life, he hadn't slept once with his bride.
Husband, seemed to be another role he sucked at.
Cersei pleaded to help her, father would had want to marry her to Dorne or to send her to aunt Genna...

That night he took her,it was animalistic, raw, hard it wasn't the lovemaking of an affectionate pair it was crude desire.
He could see their entangled bodies in the large mirror, his skin was darker, his hair shorter, he was ripped with muscles.
She was voluptuous, with heavy breast, her hair a mane of gold.
But they had the same eyes and face, twins male e female and they were one while fucking.
He fucked Cersei from behind, his trust deep and hard, his hands, the good and the golden one, on her hips, no other body contact a look of cruel intention and cold wanting on his face.
She looked like in pain, moaning, her lips open her eyes closed.
He was silent,he forced himself to be silent, just a grunting from time to time.
She chanted his name.
Like she was asking for mercy.
Later they talked, or better she tried to have a conversation with him.
She asked him or ordered him to be her champion. She should be near her, their son, he had to talk to father, she didn't want to marry again, but if she had to, she would want to be at King's Landing...
Did she really asked him to chose her a husband at King's Landing?
His reply was icy.
He wasn't a Kingsguard anymore, she couldn't order him around. He wasn't lord Lannister yet, he couldn't arrange her marriage. She hadn't wanted to marry him, now he was married and he would have true born sons, no time for her bastards...
She slapped him. She was trying to dress herself while shouting venom, but he only laughed mocking.
He fucked her again despite her protests and hateful words.

Cersei Lannister realized too late that she was trapped.
Her brother had dismissed her guards, she was surrounded by his, her angry outburst ignored.
She had never been that powerless.
Jaime was cold and deriding.
She was alone.
She had thought he would help her, but the stranger who fucked her any time he saw fit, wasn't her twin. He wouldn't hear her pleas, he could only make things worse, he seemed not to care if she became pregnant.


He had spoken with his knights and servants.
All of his sister's actions and words had to be reported to him.
He come to know how she had tried to bribed some of the knights and their wives, it had been all for nothing.
In her desperation she had even reached for Margaery.
No one dared to help her because he made sure who wouldn't follow his order, would lose his place and possession, who would help her to escape...would lose more.
His sister had left Kings landing without his father's permission, she was tarnish the Lannister's name.
He needed to help her.

She tried to escape, tried to reason with him, she failed.
What could she possibly write to her father?
“Father I'm Jaime prisoner!”?
Father hadn't been happy that she'd followed Jaime, but he allowed her to 'mourn' Robert in her childhood home.
Jaime was married this was the most important for him.
She hadn't had moon tea, she couldn't trust none of the servants or the knight's wifes...
Margaery was her only rescue.

Jaime hadn't wanted for Cersei to get moon tea. He spoke with Margaery.
Cersei would bear their heir
A crazy plan, the only way to have a child.
Maybe he hadn’t be able to bed Margaery, because he had to be true to at least one Oath.
He had to be true to Cersei, for the little honor he had left.

With the help of his Maester, who had needed a little bit of persuasion, Margaery and two midwives, Cersei bore him three children in four years.
He had saw his father smiling, really smiling for the first time in his adult life, while looking at his fourth incestous bastard nephew.
Margaery was the perfect Lady of the Rock a loving mother, a flawless wife.
Cersei ceased to try to escape after the birth of his second son. She was more calmer now, but she drank more and gained weight.
He reduced her wine intake and pressured her to have more movement and soon she was as slender as she had been as a young girl.
He hadn’t allowed her to be too much with the children, they looked too much like her, luckily his daughter had brown hair, like his grandmother Jeyne Marbrand, but everyone believed she had Margaery’s hair.
Margaery and himself would have been happy with a fourth child, but the Maester forbat it, Cersei’s body and mind wouldn’t endure it.
After the third birth, Cersei hadn’t been the same again, she had stop screaming and arguing and she talked much less.
She could sit on a chair and watch the sea for hours, without speaking, almost without blinking.
She didn’t cry or beg him to see Myrcella and Tommen anymore. She no longer asked him to take his children in her arms.
His father had been positively surprised about his daughter's new attitude, Tyrion had been shocked.

“You know, you choked the life out of her, do you?”
It wasn’t true, he would be dead if she were, and he never felt so alive.
He would never let her go, they were forever.