The Wedding

It was a major whirlwind, returning to King’s Landing and getting everything ready for the wedding. Both Lord Tywin and King Rhaegar agreed that a display was necessary to show the realm the united strength of Houses Targaryen and Lannister, so every moment was spent working hard to prepare the Capitol for the largest wedding it had seen in decades. Jon’s family gathered from across the realm to be in attendance, and despite himself Jon felt very concerned that his siblings like Myrcella. He loved his brother and sister dearly, but Rhaenys in particular could be very forward and aggressive and Jon felt that his betrothed needed a lighter touch after her recent struggles. Naturally his concerns were ill-founded, and Rhaenys seemed to have taken the girl under her wing, keeping her safe within an entourage of fiery Dornish.

Seeing his betrothed safe and secure, Jon went about his own affairs in the Red Keep and made sure to keep the Kingsguard with him at all times. He had seen little of Cersei, but knew that there would be one final attempt on him before she was **** to part from her daughter. It was a tricky business and an exhausting one at that, but Jon managed to keep himself out of trouble for the few days that lead up to the wedding.

Things changed, however, on the morning of his wedding when Jon ventured out to the training yard. Sleep had been a bother and his nerves were wearing him down, so he did the only thing he could in such occasions and went to train himself with Ser Barristan in the early morning. The sun had barely made its debut, but the prince and the famed knight went to work exchanging sword blows and practicing defensive gestures. It was tiring, but the exhaustion helped bring a sense of peace to Jon’s mind. They had stopped for the day, slowly returning to the castle proper when a blade found itself lodged in Jon’s shoulder.

The pain was sharp, the but the surprise of the attack was worse as several men emerged wielding blades and approaching with killing intent. Ser Barristan was ready at once, putting himself between Jon and the men, his weapon at the ready. The conflict was brief, but bloody. The men advanced on Barristan, but he managed to use his sword to defend in one moment before ducking and slashing the next. It was a blur of ****, but Jon could see that the men were progressing around the tired old knight. Taking up his training sword he moved in to help keep the attackers at bay, his shoulder aching and his chest burning from the effort.

It was a frightening, but eventually they managed to close in on the attackers and bring the last of them down. Ser Barristan wasted little time dwelling on his own wounds however, and insisted Jon be treated by a maester. They settled on going to Rhaenys’ cousin Sarella, who had secretly studied at the Citadel for a few years, and who Jon felt was less likely to poison him on the Lannister’s behalf.

It was midday when the wedding actually happened, and through the entire labourous ceremony Jon felt that another attack could come at any moment, yet it never did. He put his cloak over Myrcella’s shoulders and the two were married in the eyes of gods and men. The feast afterwards was also a struggle, but Jon and Myrcella shared all their food and drank from the same chalice, the little Lannister serving in her own way as his shield.

When the bedding finally came, it was as if he had ran a foot race through the Dornish desert and finally reached an oasis of clear water. Myrcella looked like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, Golden hair falling in curls down past her shoulders, big expressive eyes that shone like emeralds, plump lips that she bit down upon nervously. She only wore the barest shift, and underneath the curves of her body.

He approached her, half-nude himself, and gently moved a strand of hair out of her face. He placed his finger under her chin and without a word, pressed his lips to hers. It was gentle at first, but the passion he had felt grew considerably and soon they were both on the bed, tongues intwined, hands exploring each other’s body.

They broke away long enough for her look at him with a hungry expression, her body aching with lust. “Do it,” she breathed, “fuck me...”

Myrcella parted her legs, revealing a cunt that had been freshly shaven and glistened with need. Jon lined himself up, and pushed in. It was slow going, but it quickly became apparent to him that her lessons with Cersei had taken her maidenhead. He eventually hilted himself inside the girl and groaned in delight as he felt her tight heat around him. He pulled back for a moment only to slam back in, causing an appreciative moan to escape the Lannister’s swollen lips.

“Do it,” she whined, “fuck me harder than my mother ever could...”

The words more than had an effect on him as he thrust away at her welcoming cunt, getting more and more keening noises from the lusty young woman. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, pulling him in deeper, his thrusts growing animalistic and wild. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him into a frantic kiss, moaning into his mouth as she clamped down around him. Jon in turn felt his release near and slammed himself deep as he could.

They lay in a tangle of limbs, breathing heavily yet smiling like victorious heroes, Jon’s head pressed against the soft mounds of Myrcella’s breasts. She drew circles in his naked back, sighing dreamily. “If the gods are good, you have given me a child already...”

Jon hummed in agreement and together they lay dozing. Eventually he stirred however, and slowly detached himself from his new wife. He dressed in silence and left the chamber in silence, sneaking through the winding passages in the walls that he had discovered as a child. Eventually they took him down into the black cells, where he was greeted by the grinning face of Tyrion Lannister.

“What does it feel like to be married?” He asked, nursing a skin of wine, “my new nephew.”

Jon grinned in return. “It feels marvellous,” he looked at the door behind him, “is it all dealt with?”

“It is,” Tyrion drank in salute and said, “don’t wear yourself out, you still have to get back to my darling niece.”

Jon chuckled in agreement and then entered into the darkened room, the single torch burning brightly. He grinned at the sole occupant, Cersei Lannister, bound to a chair and completely naked. “Hello Sweet good-Mother,”he walked over and gently pinched her nipple, “welcome to the first of your many lessons with me.”