Whore // Sandor Clegane // Tryion Lannister

Im Yours

Tyrion wedding.

'You seem rather drunk.' Tywin said as he approached Tyrion, the feast was in full swing Sansa looked miserable so daphne tried to comfort her.

'Isn't it a grooms duty, a man's duty to be drunk at his own wedding?' Tyrion questioned over his glass.

'This isn't about your wedding. Renly Baratheon had a wedding, your wife needs a child, a Lannister child.' Tywin told him. Tyrion sat slumped in his chair bored and not nearly drunk enough to have this conversation. 'As soon as possible.' Tywin added.

'And?'

'If you're going to give her one you need to perform.' Tywin reminded him.

'What did you once call me? A drunken little lust filled beast?' Tyrion reminded him

'More than once.' Tywin agreed.

'There you have it I am the god of tits and wine I shall build a shrine to myself.'

'You can joke,' Tywin said pulling the glass from his lips 'you can engage in juvenile attempts to make your father uncomfortable but you will do your duty.' Tywin said walking away.

'Time for the bedding ceremony!' Joffrey declared. Daphne looked across at sandor, he was always watching her, if she wasn't so madly in love with him she would have thought it very creepy.

'No,' Tyrion told him anger fueling him.

'There is if I say so, so Bedding ceremony!' Joffrey said happily. Tyrion stabbed his knife down into the table.

'then you'll be fucking your own bride with a wooden cock.' Tyrion threatened. Tywin stood up, clearing his throat, the room went silent.

'What did you say to me?' Joffrey questioned 'What. Did. You. Say!'

'I believe we can dispense with the bedding your Grace I'm sure tyrion did not mean to threaten the king.' Tywin suggested calmly glancing over at Tyrion and Tyrion started to laugh.

'A bad joke your grace.' Tyrion said laughing releasing his hand that was clutched very tightly to his knife 'a small man's envy of your own royal manhood.. mine is so small my poor wife won't even know I'm there.' Tyrion added, the tension slowly faded from the room.

'Your uncle is clearly quite drunk your grace.' Tywin told him

'I am.' Tyrion agreed. 'guilty.' He looked to sansa. 'come wife. I will tell you about the time I threw up on someone while fucking. It's a great story actually.' Sansa begrudgingly left daphne stayed put watching her go. Sansa looked like she was going to be sick. Daphne felt sick as well, she hadn't eaten all day she picked at the food on sansas plate as she left but quickly spit it out in her hand, her stomach feeling queasy. She put a hand on her stomach, it protruded slightly, she could go without a meal today anyways she though looking curiously down at her stomach. She supposed fucking all night took a lot of energy and calories, only Tyrion and sandor to fill her bed, she needed to cut down on the sweets perhaps. She smiled over at sandor he was already looking at her.

++++++++++++

Someone should be getting some love tonight, daphne didn't think it was going to be the bride and groom. Sandor pulled her into his arms.

Daphne kissed gently against his jaw. She smiled into him a moan of pleasure escaping his lip, closing his eyes at her touch, as he yanked her dress to the ground.

He grunted loudly as her movements, hands digging into her hips, guiding her movement, the slow aching of her back drove him harder and harder. Her head lolled back, her eyes closing as her hands gripped his shoulders. A little noise a mix between a moan and whine escaping her lips, it drove sandor crazy. Daphne was clawing at his hair, keeping his lips on hers, heart pounding so fast, so loud she thought it was going to pop right out of her chest. A whine escaped her lips, a shudder through her spine, her bones feeling like jelly beneath him, spots appeared in her vision as she reached her peak. A groan escaped his own lips, filling her before collapsing into each other, falling against the pillow. She smiled into him as he held her close.

'does this mean your mine?' sandor questioned.

'I have always been yours.' Daphne corrected.