Guest Chambers of Trystan, West Wing - Winterfell, The North - The Next Day
It was the following day since Visenya arrived that the Lion cubs chose to meet, all in one room. After the event with the confession about the Red Wedding and Tywin's reaction, Tyrion had chosen to draw the line there.
The day prior, he had approached his siblings and tried to make them see, but they were rather against the whole idea that their father was truly abusive, including with his own wife. For they had seen moments that Tyrion had not, since he was in exile.
So, the dwarf chose to show them by confronting the woman in person. He would show his brothers that there was more in this relationship of their parents than they thought; a darker side that they were all ignorant about.
"I still do not see why it had to be my chambers," Trystan questioned as the three brothers were in the room.
Tyrion had made himself comfortable on an armchair, wishing that his younger brother had wine in his room, but alas, they were not in King's Landing. Jaime was standing close to the bed while the younger of the Lion brothers sat by the edge of it.
"Because she has a soft spot for you, obviously," Tyrion commented, rolling his eyes at the ignorance and naïve side of his brother. "The moment you tell her you need to talk about something personal, she will rush to hear you... and Father won't suspect anything."
"Still," the Half-Lion argued, but before he could say something else, there was a knock on the door before the woman of the hour entered.
She was not sure what Trystan wished to speak with her about, but she was always willing to listen to all of her sons, even Tyrion; despite everything that had taken place between them. However, she did not expect to find all three of her sons present.
"I didn't realize this was a pride meeting," she pointed out, one eyebrow arched up as the door closed behind her.
The lion brothers stood up and took a few steps towards her while she met them halfway. They exchanged a look, trying to see who would be the one to go first. In the end, it was the youngest Lion.
"Mother, how are you?" he asked, earning a facepalm from the shortest of the three.
Visenya tilted her head faintly to one side, not failing to see the passive glances they sent one another and the very vague, but also random, question coming from her youngest son.
She suspected that there was something more that they wished to address but did not wish to do so directly, something that was common; at least with Trystan and Jaime. Tyrion did not care, and sometimes he would go straight to the chase.
Yet, she chose to go with the flow and see where this would lead.
"The usual, as you can see. Why is it that you ask?"
The Half-Lion cleared his throat and sent a look at Jaime, urging him to do something. Your turn.
"How is your arm, Mother?" Jaime asked next, eyes going to her left arm that had the bruise.
Of course, due to the winter months, Visenya wore long-sleeved clothes now and far thicker ones. Thus, barely anything from her skin was visible other than her face and slightly her neck.
She did not truly feel the cold, but she chose to dress decently enough, so as not to draw too much attention to herself.
Visenya glanced at it, slowly realizing where this was leading.
"Good."
Tyrion felt his head aching from the very forced conversation between them that he could not take anymore. This was why he needed wine, but alas, he could not find it in this cold and dark castle.
"We saw the manhandling yesterday and the bruise on your arm from how Father grabbed your wrist," he said, deciding to do the speaking since his siblings apparently could not be a little more straightforward with some things.
She had already connected the dots that the discussion would lead there, Jaime giving it all away. She had, though, chosen to let them continue until one of them would come clean and was not surprised that it was Tyrion; sometimes he had the least amount of patience amongst all the Lion Cubs, beating even Cersei.
She let out a small sigh, barely audible to anyone.
"There was no manhandling," she explained. "It's a Targaryen thing to bruise easily, I am afraid, but your father did not harm me. He never has."
The taller of the Lions nodded their heads, agreeing and understanding. That was what they also believed, but they had chosen to listen to Tyrion since he was so sure that it was hard to call him a liar; not without confirming first.
"He is not present, you don't have to lie to any of us," Tyrion argued, taking a step towards her. "I saw the bruises, good-mother, that night. The ones you had around your neck and those marks. Just admit that Father raped and harmed you across those years and stop protecting him."
One might ask why Tyrion, all of a sudden, wished to help her... well, he always wished to do that. After he had started to see that Visenya was also at a disadvantage in this relationship, of course.
Sure, she was no saint, but she did not have it that easy.
After he saw, yesterday, how openly Tywin was ready to grab her... for a moment, Tyrion truly thought that he would grab her by the neck or slap her from the way he was glaring at her; or how he passively guided her back to their chambers.
He would not even be surprised if he had forced her to have sex with him, once again harming and raping her to ensure she would not go against his words and to keep her under his control.
He came to realize that this might be getting out of control, and now there was a chance for him to stop it. After all, he still owed his father for what he did to Tysha. Exposing him for the abuser he was, turning his own sons against him... that was a start.
Plus, it was about time his siblings started seeing the whole picture.
They heard what she did with the Red Wedding, now it was time to see the other part of the bitter truth.
His way of just talking, without caring about how he was addressing certain issues and not caring if he was insinuating something, drew reactions from his siblings.
"Brother," Trystan scolded him. "You said you were not going to openly accuse Father like that."
"Spare me the good manners now," Tyrion argued, rolling his eyes. "She knows what I am talking about and there is no sugarcoating about it. You did not believe me, so I will give you proof from the Dragon's mouth itself."
The two boys were about to argue, and none truly took notice that the eldest of the Lion cubs was looking at his mother. He frowned faintly, his eyebrows forming creases in the space between them as he slowly started to connect the dots about what kind of markings around her neck his younger brother was talking about.
"Good-mother..." he said, seeing her expression. His eyes opened wider in disbelief. "You... no way..."
Visenya had pressed her lips against one another, forming a thin line. She had closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, not sure how to handle that issue.
She had raised four different boys, and she had never truly felt shame or awkwardness talking with them, even when she had to educate them better on how to sleep with a woman and also how to please her.
However, she suddenly found herself unable to say something. She was not even sure she could justify or refuse all the accusations, because Tyrion had seen it. Plus, with how quick Jaime was to understand it all then that meant; it was game over for her.
Jaime's words made the two brothers stop glaring at one another and look at him, only to see the expression of their mother. It took a moment longer for Tyrion to get it, but once he did, he could not help but let his mouth open in pure disbelief.
The only one who did not seem to get it was Trystan. He looked at his brothers with a confused look.
"What? I do not understand."
The oldest of the three leaned to his ear and started to whisper the explanation.
At first, Trystan remained confused, but then realization dawned on him; evident by the way his eyes opened wider and his lips parted. Then, a different image formed in his mind and his expression changed; as if he had just bitten on a very bitter lemon.
"Gross... ugh... I need to unsee this..." he commented and suppressed a shiver.
Visenya, realizing that this was slowly getting out of hand, chose to finally interfere. She snapped her fingers a few times, drawing the attention of her sons onto her.
"Okay, no judging right now, from any of you," she started, one hand on her waist as she put on the most motherly look she was capable of.
She brought her other hand and pointed a single finger, first at Jaime, who tensed.
"You have only slept with Cersei, so you know how things are."
The finger then moved to point at Tyrion.
"You have only slept with one woman and she was underage. All the others were prostitutes that did 90% of the work."
And at last, the finger went to Trystan; who, like his siblings, also tensed.
"And you, you have not even kissed a girl yet, let alone slept with one."
The brothers lowered their heads faintly after she was done scolding them, pointing out to each one of them that they were in no position to judge her or rush to any conclusions. She kept her gaze sharp, daring them to argue back with her, but they knew better than to do so; when she was in the Mother Dragon mode, as they used to call it.
She waited for a moment, letting it all sink in because she was getting tired of being accused so openly and letting people get the wrong idea.
Sure, Tywin and her strived to form a certain image when it came to their relationship, a more professional and loveless one...
But that did not mean they wished for things to go that far... She did not want them to go to that extreme, especially when it came to her sons.
She lowered her finger, but her expression did not change, looking at each one of them slowly.
"That kind of bruising does not qualify for it, good-mother," Tyrion argued.
Even if this was supposed to be something between them, even something that she enjoyed; it did not stick. For her skin to reach that colour, it meant there was more force behind it than usual, and no logical person would take any kind of joy or pleasure from feeling such an amount of pain.
"It's not..." she let out a sigh, deciding on a different approach. "Observe carefully and get it well in your minds," she said and lifted the sleeve of her non-bruised arm just enough to show some skin after her wrist.
She then pinched the pale skin with enough strength to feel the acute pain coming from it and the annoyance as well, since it was not a pain that would kill her but it was not a pleasant one either.
She released after a few seconds and showed them. Where she had just pinched, one would barely expect to see any sort of marking. At worst, some redness from the force, but to their surprise; faint bruising could be seen, and one could easily understand that it would become worse as the hours passed.
"What?" Jaime exclaimed, the first time seeing it.
He blinked a few times, trying to process it. How strong was his good-mother to cause such damage to her skin with a simple pinch? It was not possible, but how did her skin react so badly to it?
Visenya fixed her sleeve.
"It is a Targaryen thing, caused by all the inbreeding," she explained. "I bruise extremely easily, and often they look worse than they are."
She had long noticed that about herself, ever since she was a child.
Barristan would not hit her with force when they would spar, and yet she would support nasty bruises for days to come. She even suspected that Rhaella's injuries looked far worse because of the similar condition she had.
She remembered when Tywin brought it up one morning, upon noticing just how badly he had bruised her hips during their night together. She ended up explaining to him the condition she had, for he did not truly use enough strength to harm her.
He never did.
Somehow, he always knew how much to use, and then they simply both agreed to hide them; considering how much worse they looked because of her condition.
Upon seeing that the boys had started to understand, Visenya realized it was time to end this ridiculous discussion; once and for all.
"Let's make one thing clear because this is the last time we discuss this," she said, her voice still strict but less than before. "Your father has never harmed, abused, raped, or hit me; under any circumstances. Therefore, you better all forget and drop this subject or may the Old Valyrian Gods help me; you won't like it if I find out that you have not dropped the subject."
The boys were silent for a moment.
"I am sorry, Mother," Trystan said first, lowering his head in shame.
Now he felt like an idiot that he had listened to Tyrion and had, for a moment, thought his father was abusive in any way. Even with his children, he rarely lifted a hand; especially when Visenya was around.
"I am sorry," Jaime added next, feeling guilt but also sharing the same feeling as Trystan; finding himself quite foolish.
A part of him though, small and deep down, felt amused nonetheless by the information he had gotten. Who would have thought that the mighty Dragoness did have certain... interests she liked.
Tyrion did not say anything and merely looked the other way, unable to look her in the eyes.
She let out an audible sigh.
"Good. I do not believe there is anything more we need to discuss, is there?" she asked rhetorically and once she received no answer, she chose to leave.
She needed to spar or ride or have a walk, to clear her head. She also needed to find a way to bring it up to Tywin, somehow, and she was not sure how she could do that.
Guest Chambers for Visenya & Tywin, West Wing - Winterfell, The North - Nightfall
The powerful but happy couple were lying in bed, more than happy to be with one another and in the privacy of their chambers. Thankfully for them, the West Wing was mostly occupied by their men and their closest allies; in other words, the Lords of the Reach.
The Northerners and the other Lords had their own wings, certain ones having been kept away from one another to ensure no bloodshed would take place.
Visenya had a little trouble with the fur pelt that was their blanket but had soon forgotten it when she ended up having Tywin wrapping his arms around her and spooning her like he always did lately.
Of course, that night, they had not gotten directly to sleep.
Something else had taken place, something long needed, and neither had held back; the need for release and closure was too great for them to ignore.
Visenya was once again spooned by his bigger and taller body, her back pressed against his chest and their legs faintly tangled; with his being on top of hers. Her head rested on his extended arm, his body pressed against hers.
She lacked any clothing; both having come to the same conclusion that there was no need for them to get dressed again; at least not immediately. Visenya especially, since she felt quite warm and did not seem to mind the cold.
Tywin was not like her, but he had chosen not to move, enjoying the rather sweet and intimate moment they could share after ravishing one another.
With how warm the castle was thanks to the underground hot springs, the roaring fire, and Visenya's increased body temperature; he did not need them even after they were done.
His one hand was supporting her head, and the other was, as per usual, around her waist, keeping her close. Occasionally, he would let his fingers roam against her side and even move his hand close to her neck; where his latest gifts to her could be seen.
He had left her plenty across her body, but the neck was one of his favourite spots and also one of the ones that Visenya was the weakest to.
His fingers gently traced lines on her skin, moving from her neck all the way to her waist and back up again since below there; they were both covered by the pelt blanket they had.
The Dragoness had closed her eyes halfway, enjoying the aftercare and intimate moment coming from his side. It always felt right to be in his presence, but being in his arms like that, it just felt even more right.
Sensing how gentle his fingers were, how he took his time to silently admire her body and drink in the image of it... was something one might not have thought Tywin Lannister capable of, but here he was, proving them wrong.
Choosing the time that he was relaxed and the topic was recent; she chose to let him know of what had transpired a few hours prior between her and the Lion siblings.
"The boys know," she said, making him glance at her from where his head rested on the pillow, but his fingers did not stop caressing her skin.
"Hmm?" he hummed, trying to understand what she was exactly talking about.
The boys could know a lot of things that they did not know before, so she had to be more specific.
"They know about..." She used her one free hand and somehow managed to gesture towards her neck where the most evident bite marks were, and also the ones he could easily see from how he was lying on his side.
Tywin started to connect the dots, and he stopped what he was doing, his fingers hovering inches away from the skin of her neck. He lifted his upper body faintly and moved his head to look above her shoulder as he focused fully on her. The darkness of lust and hunger from before was gone as his mood started to change; unfortunately, not for the better.
"What do you mean? How?" he asked, since she clearly had her hand in it, or at least she had chosen to go into details with them.
"They know of the condition... I had to tell them because they got the wrong impression," she explained, choosing not to mention who started it, for she wished to protect the Imp from the wrath of his father.
Her plan did not seem to work because she saw the faint tension of his jaw and how his hovering fingers curled inward, as if ready to form a fist. She knew the signs too well, and those were ones of rising anger.
"Tyrion," he spat, feeling his temper slowly awakening and ruining his good mood.
That disappointing little horny monster had been a thorn by his side for years. He had gone as far as to accuse him of raping his own wife and now seemed to have given the same idea to his brothers, complicating everything and forcing them to come clean.
He managed to free his hand that was resting beneath her head and moved his body until his upper body was pulled fully up. He brought his legs back, bending the knees slightly and turning his back halfway so it faced Visenya.
He had to think of how to handle the dwarf since he clearly had to go. In addition, he moved because he did not wish to harm Visenya with how unpredictable his anger could be. All it would take was one wrong-hand move to leave an unwanted mark on her and then he would only prove what his idiot son thought he did.
"Do not blame him, my love. He got the wrong idea," he heard her voice as she also moved her body.
She moved her arms to wrap above his shoulders and hugged him from behind, resting her chin by the base of his neck.
"He thought that you were physically abusing me in general, not only in bed. The boys did not truly believe him but were sceptical nonetheless."
She pressed her nose and her cheek against his neck, inhaling his scent.
"I did not tell them anything, but they did realize what kind of marks Tyrion was talking about."
Tywin scoffed but did not react negatively to her actions. He focused on her warm hands resting on top of his chest, placed close to his collarbone while her breath tickled the skin of his neck.
Her chest was pressed against his back that still bore red lines from her nails, and her sweet voice reached his ears directly.
"Of course they did," he commented, annoyed by the fact that the boys tried to stick their noses into their personal business.
He heard her chuckle.
"They are boys, some more experienced than others," she reminded him, taking the situation rather lightly. "Plus, it is not every day someone has a marking habit such as yours," she continued, whispering her second sentence right next to his ear.
Somehow, his lips moved until a smirk was formed.
"My marking habit?" he asked with some amusement and light-friendly mockery. He grabbed her wrist and moved her hands above his head, bringing them to the side.
With one quick move, he had pulled them forward and caused her to fall by his side; leaving a quick but small yelp of surprise from the unexpected move. In the next seconds, he had straddled her as they were now lying horizontally on the bed.
His hands rested by the side of her head, and he looked down at her, with the personal smirk of victory while the familiar glint of a passive challenge could be seen in his golden-flecked eyes.
"Last time I checked... someone took joy in them," he reminded her, bringing his face closer to hers but not close enough for her to be able to kiss him. "Someone made it quite clear that she was not against it."
Visenya's cheeks started to gain a rosy shade, her hands pressed against his chest but did not try to push him off her; rather held a very faint and futile resistance. She kept her gaze locked with his, but her body was betraying her.
Tywin did have an unusual need to leave bite marks on her skin, but they were not random. He would always kiss her body first, taking notice and memorizing which places and spots made her gasp, moan, and arch her back in response.
He knew those spots were the ones she was the weakest to, and occasionally she would push his head more when he would suck on the skin there, clearly passing the message that she enjoyed it greatly.
So, the Lion had long started to leave his marks there.
Both, though, benefited from it.
His manly pride to mark her as his and observe them on her body was covered that way, and she was practically reaching her high when he would suck and bite on those sweet spots of hers.
As for the choking, Tywin was rather experienced with it; surprisingly.
He knew how to hold her without causing her any harm or obstructing her breathing, but rather causing euphoria at the feeling of her giving up full control that way.
The reason why those markings always looked so bad was not because Tywin was harsh or was not careful. Those bruises looked nasty because it was her condition that made them so, her skin reacting worse than it should.
If she did not have it, the bite marks and even the signs from his handling would be faint; more common and less abusive than they looked like now.
"Lion got your tongue?" Tywin teased her, seeing how quiet she suddenly was.
Her reply was a smirk, one that proved to him she was up for a small challenge and also in the mood for games. She did seem to have returned from Dorne with more energy than she did before, and some more confidence in taking control.
"He got more from me than just that," she commented as she pushed her head up, forcing her neck to keep her head off the mattress and closer to his. "Although, I do believe I got something in return as well."
He did not comment but rather bent his elbows to lower his body more and place his lips upon hers, in a gentle but also slightly dominating way. She wasted no time returning the action before somehow she managed to move her legs in the right way and flip them so she was on top.
His hand moved to her neck, holding and pulling her down to kiss him again while she felt him stirring up; the games and the position sent warmth and blood down to his groin, as she somehow challenged him to take her voice away one more time before they would sleep... and he was about to.