Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

Queen of Roses - Tywin x Reader

Margaery may be the one that would become the Queen consort when she finally married Joffrey; the daughter of Mace and Alerie Tyrell considered to be quite the beauty in her own right. Yet the true Queen of Roses was not the lady that had taken the place of Sansa Stark, nor was it her grandmother, Olenna, no. The real golden rose of Highgarden was Margaery's older sister, (Y/n). Or at least she was in Tywin's eyes.

Just like her younger sister, (Y/n) was a true product of her grandmother's influence. A cunning, strong, bold, clever, politically adept, manipulative beauty; that seemed to be able to make anyone, and anything do as she wished, with just a smile. And as much as he didn't like to admit it, Tywin had found himself as much under the spell of the older rose, as everyone else.

With Margaery, Tywin appreciated the fact that she had the ability to manage Joffrey; something that not even his own mother could do. And he was not blind to the fact that she was also intelligent and knew how to play the game. Yet that did not mean that he cared for her, she was just a means to an end. A chance to make Joffrey's reign stable, ensure his continued roll as Hand, and therefore further his own quest for power. But whereas the old lion cared little, or nothing for the younger female Tyrell, the same could not be said, for (Y/n).

When the two sisters had come to Kings Landing, Tywin had thought little of it. He aware that Margaery had been the wife of Renly Baratheon before his death. That the reason she was to marry his oldest grandson, was because Loras had requested a match between the pair, after House Tyrells had aided House Lannister in defeating Stannis Baratheon, at the Battle of the Blackwater. Though the Knight of the Flowers claims that his sister had fallen in love with Joffrey from afar, seemed a little far fetched as he was concerned. Tywin not sure that anyone could really love the odious boy. But (Y/n)........her life had been a little quieter. There no marriage that he knew of, despite the fact that he was sure she could have any man that she wanted. There no lordly lovers, or even dalliances with guards or servants, that he had been informed of. (Y/n) seeming to prefer being surrounded by books and parchments than handsome faces, unlike both her siblings. And maybe that was one of the reasons that Tywin was so drawn to her, because he was.....he really was. There feeling as though there were a thread that tethered him to her. A line, that with only the slightest of pulls, would bring him right to her side. The old lion hating that a woman would have such control over him; he believing that he was too wise, too old, too jaded for such foolishness. This kind of need.....desire for a woman, gone, once Tyrion's coming into the world, had taken his beloved Joanna out of it. Yet here he was, Tywin Lannister, the Hand of two kings, patriarch of House Lannister, making his way down from the Tower of the Hand, in order to see a younger woman. He having found it impossible to work, given that his thoughts had been on her all day; of being able to place his hands on her soft flesh. To be able to hear her sweet moans, as he kissed her skin. Tywin straightening the collar of his robe, before silently pushing through the door to the great library. A small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, as he saw her, sat alone; her legs pulled up underneath her, as she read quietly in one of the large chairs. (Y/n) too engrossed in the heavy tome that sat on her laps, to apparently hear him enter. She only looking up, as his shadow feel across the old pages of parchment.

"Tywin............" A smile coming to her beautifully plump lips, as she looked up at him. That smile all it took for him to take her hand and pull her to her feet. The book she had been reading, falling to the floor, as the feared and revered old lion, took her up into his arms and carried her to one of the large, long tables in the room. He sweeping it clean of all the books, before sitting her atop it. (Y/n) giggling at his fervour, as his hands made their way up under her shirts. Tywin gripping at her thighs, before pulling her to him. Her amusement turning to a soft moan, when she felt his arousal push up against her core. It obvious that he didn't care that she had only left his bed a few short hours before; that she would be returning to said bed soon after one of the Lannister bannerman had come to inform her that the Hand wished to speak with her. She loving having this effect on the older man; loved knowing that he would go out of his way, take time away from his work to come and find her, because he wanted her.....needed her that much. She laying back against the cool wood, as his fingers made light work of the stings that held together her bodice. Neither caring that someone might walk in, that someone might see them; all thoughts of propriety, gone. (Y/n) gripping tightly onto his shoulders, as he pushed himself inside her. The once quiet library filled with the sound of the lion and the rose, as this alliance between House Lannister and Tyrell was once more cemented. Tywin determined that no other man would have the beauty that trembled beneath him; the beauty that had made him feel alive again. That one way or another the Queen of Roses would be his, and he would be her lion.