Tyrion's Epilogue Ch. 04

Tyrion rolled over and scrunched his face as the early morning sun poured through the windows of the bedroom. It had been a long time since he had woken naturally with the light and not by the hand or mouth of his wife on his hard morning cock. The 'just-from-sleep' erection was present today as well. He ran a hand over it and looked over at his wife. He considered waking her by throwing his face down between her legs as he so often did in the morning, but she was sleeping so soundly he didn't want to disturb her.

Linnea was always lovely but she positivity glowed in the morning sunlight. Her light blonde hair curled perfectly across her forehead, her cheeks, and then down her bare back. The soft, white skin begged to be caressed, but again Tyrion held back remembering that she had gone to bed early last night. They had supped together before Tyrion took up a book by the fire. Linnea usually joined him with a book of her own or some needlework. She would patiently read or embroider until the sun left the sky completely when she would put her things down and come kneel by Tyrion's legs and caress him through his trousers. Sometimes she would take him in her mouth and he would finish there and that would be it. Other times she'd climb into his lap there on the divan or still other times it would lead to hours of carnal pleasure for both of them.

But last night, Linnea had picked at her food. The chef had prepared a dessert from her homeland that she usually loved, but she had turned down even a small bowl of the creamy rice pudding. After dinner she has gone right to bed. Tyrion read late into the night without Linnea to call him to bed and yet he awoke and she still slumbered soundly.

He gingerly slipped out of bed and to the chamber pot in hopes of quelling his morning wood.

Erection handled, Tyrion pulled his clothing on. He started for the door and remembered that he and Linnea were expected to dine with Bronn and his wife Lollys that evening. He stopped at the desk and wrote out a quick note of reminder. He slipped it on to her vanity table and left the room. He passed down the stairs where he nearly ran right into Wenderly.

"Lord Tyrion!" He started. "I'm sorry sir, I had not heard you awaken-that is to say I usually hear- eh, I mean that her highness is sometimes- oh, um-"

Tyrion held up a hand to his squire who was bright red and getting redder by the moment.

"Yes, Wenderly. I understand that my wife is rather vocal in the morning," Tyrion had to smile at his wife's reputation. "Her Highness is still asleep this morning and was not feeling well last night. Please make sure her breakfast is brought in and maybe something special as well."

"Yes, sir."

Tyrion continued out of the Tower of the Hand and across the yard to his office in the keep. He went to work looking over the budget for the proposed tournament honoring the king's name day. He knew King Bran had little interest in tourneys and pageants but keeping the morale of the kingdom was important.

Half way through the day, a young maid knocked at the door and Tyrion beckoned her in.

"This was just delivered from the Tower of the Hand my Lord" she curtsied politely and handed him a small folded paper.

Tyrion opened the note and saw his wife's sweet curled writing.

Tyrion,

Please send my regrets to Ser Bronn and Lollys. I am unwell and unable to attend dinner this evening.

~Linnea

He folded the letter back up and dismissed the waiting maid. It was unlike Linnea to cancel a social engagement. She usually loved to escape the tower and grounds of the keep and she loved to make new friends and she always spent time playing with Bronn's young children when she saw them.

Tyrion wrote a quick note to Bronn to let me know they would not be joining him and his wife that evening and he sent if off with another young page. He knew Bronn wouldn't mind the excuse to not go home to his wife and Lollys didn't have the sense to be offended by a broken social commitment. Tyrion completed signing the contracts for the tourney and decided to head out early for the day. Before heading back to the Tower of the Hand he wandered toward the royal gardens. The knight standing guard at the stone arches nodded politely as he passed by, unobstructed.

Tyrion walked to the section of exotic flowers that were planted and maintained by a group of young maesters. There were dragons tongues from Braavos and weeping lilies from Asshai and three different variations of Valiryian roses. Tyrion carefully picked an assortment, keeping an eye open for any passing maesters who would disapprove of their special flowers being so hastily plucked. When he had a handful of bright red, fiery orange, and sunny yellow blooms he headed toward home. He climbed the single flight of stone stairs to the living quarters and slowly pushed the door open. The afternoon sun didn't' come directly into the room and the evening fire had not yet been lit leaving the room feeling dark and cold.

Linnea sat on a large velvet chair in the corner nearest the window with her legs pulled up into the chair and tucked underneath her with a large book in her lap. Her long hair was pulled back into a single thick braid and it seemed that her skin was pale. She looked up slowly at his entry and she gave a weak smile.

Tyrion walked to her with the flowers behind his back. He noticed that she wore a plain muslin nightgown cinched with a simple purple ribbon. He wasn't certain that he had never seen her wear something so unadorned, though upon further consideration he wasn't sure he had seen her in a nightgown more than a handful of times, preferring to sleep naked.

"Hello dear," he said as he approached her.

"Hello," was her soft response.

"I'm sorry you're still not feeling well, dearest," Tyrion drew the flowers from behind his back presenting them to her. Linnea smiled, but her eyes didn't smile like they usually did. He leaned to her placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Should I call for a maester?"

Linnea took the flowers and examined each flower in turn, "I am not ill." She said it dully without offering up any further explanation.

Tyrion stood, awaiting something else from his bride, who was not usually short on words, but she did not continue.

"Is there something else wrong?" he finally asked.

He saw her lip quiver before she bit it resolving herself not to cry.

"I have my moon blood," she said matter-of-factly.

Tyrion looked at his feet and Linnea continued, "It was two weeks late, so I had hoped..." She trailed off.

Tyrion nodded slowly, understanding what she had implied.

"I'm sorry, Linnea," he took her hand in his.

"Tyrion..." she looked into his face. "I promised myself that I would never ask but I now I have to know." She paused as if waiting for permission to continue. "I know what your reputation used to be. I know what they said about you. Did any of them-any of those women ever have your child?"

"Linnea..." Tyrion dropped her hand and walked to the pitcher of wine sitting next to Linnea's uneaten dinner tray. She watched him pour the wine and take a long, deep sip all the while her eyes pleading for his answer.

"Linnea, you don't want me to answer that," he said drinking again.

Linnea stood and padded to him softly, sitting next to him on the divan.

"I do," she said firmly, her eyes filling with tears.

Tyrion placed a hand on her arm and inhaled.

"To my knowledge, I have never sired a child," he spoke.

A sharp sob escaped Linnea's mouth as the tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Tyrion took another large gulp of wine before continuing.

"I thought that would be what you wanted. You wouldn't want to know that your husband had dozens of bastard children running around Flea Bottom would you? My sister knew about Robert's bastards and she hated them. And she hated him even more."

Linnea continued to cry; through the tears she choked out, "But if you had a child with some other woman, then at least you would know that you could have children."

"Maybe I did," Tyrion grasped for something-anything to calm his wife. "There's no way to know for certain. Linnea, before the war I was with hundreds of-"

Linnea looked straight up at Tyrion, her tears turning from sadness to anger.

"Don't you tell me about your whores!" she shouted. "I don't want to hear about them!"

Tyrion was taken aback. His wife had never raised her voice at him in anger before.

"Linnea, I thought you knew what you were getting into when you married me..."

"I wasn't sent around the world to sit in a tower and be childless for the rest of my life!"

Tyrion stared at his wife who collapsed in tears on the divan. Her shoulders shook as the sobs wracked her body.

Tyrion moved to her and put one small hand on her head, but she wrenched away from his touch.

"Linnea-"

"I'd like you to go," she said coldly.

Tyrion didn't move.

"Leave Tyrion!" she half yelled. He reached for her again but she bolted away from him and back to the chair in the corner where she had been when he came in.

"My dear, please let me-" Tyrion pleaded to let him talk to her.

Linnea grasped the book that she had been reading and flung it at Tyrion.

"Get out!"

The book hit his arm weakly and fell to the floor. Linnea collapsed again into sobs and Tyrion quietly made his way to the door. He pulled the door open and stepped out, but turned back to look at his crying wife once more.

"I love you, Linnea," he called to her. Then he pulled the door closed and walked down the long stone steps of the Tower of the Hand.

Tyrion slunk back to his office and poured himself glass after glass of Arbor gold until he was tired enough to fall asleep curled up on the window seat of his office looking over the king's garden.

The next morning he was awoken by the gentle shaking of a large hand on his shoulder.

"My Lord?"

Tyrion opened his eyes slowly focusing on the large, round face of Maester Samwell Tarly.

Tyrion pushed himself up to sitting, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. His head throbbed from the wine the night before and his stomach lurched.

"Water?" Sam offered cheerfully.

"Yes," Tyrion coughed out between chapped lips and dry tongue. He drank the glass of cold water down and handed the glass back to Sam.

"What are you doing here Tarly?"

"I was in the garden, tending the plants and trying to think of combinations to tend the new heat rash that's popped up on some of the children in Flea Bottom when I looked up and saw you hunched in the window seat. And I thought that was quite odd that you'd be here at this hour."

"Aye, I'm not usually in my office overnight anymore these days."

"It is nice to have someone waiting at home, isn't it?" Sam laughed. Unlike most Maesters Sam had a partner, Gilly, with whom he had two children. The Maester council in Oldtown knew of the breach in protocol but turned a blind eye thanks to the never ending medical advancements Sam was adding to the Maester cannon. He was, afterall, the first person to successfully cure greyscale in hundreds of years.

"I don't suppose you have a cure for a wife's anger, would you Sam?" Tyrion hopped down from the window and stretched his sore legs.

"Not so much a cure as some experience. Gilly has a bit of a temper as you might guess. I've found that-"

Tyrion held up a hand to stop him from launching into some far too intimate story as he tended to do.

"Sam, as a man of medicine, maybe you're exactly who I should be talking to. Linnea is upset that she is not with child yet. My concern is that due to my... status" he gestured to his abnormal height and proportions, "that I am unable to father a child."

Sam took a seat on a high-backed chair opposite Tyrion's oak desk.

"There are written cases of little men fathering children for centuries. I'm sure all six kingdoms could show proof of happy little families that procreate without trouble."

Tyrion shook his head, "then why not me?"

Sam pursed his lips and moment, "Tyrion the female reproductive system is beyond our full comprehension. May I ask some questions that I ask other men who ask me about this?"

"Go ahead."

"How often do you make love to your wife?"

"Nearly constantly," Tyrion answered. Sam raised his eyebrows in question and Tyrion continued. "Linnea is young and eager. We make love everyday, many times twice a day."

Sam nodded wide eyed, "That's a good start," he commented, nodding. "Let's see, and do you ever have trouble finishing the act?"

"Never," Tryrion stated confidently.

"Good, and do you ever have trouble getting started? It is understandable, a man of your age and, well, experience..."

"Eh, no. Again, it's never been an issue."

Sam looked thoughtful a moment, "And lastly, do you want to have a child?"

Tyrion paused. He had never given it much thought.

"I think so. Honestly, it's hard to imagine. It was never important before... Everything. My father always made it clear that Casterly Rock would never go to me. I think he'd hoped it would go to Myrcella or Tommen...but they're gone, obviously." Tyrion looked up uncomfortably. "Until recently, I don't think I've been a man worthy of being a father."

Sam gave a small chuckle, "There are leagues of men who are father's who weren't worthy of the title."

Tyrion nodded knowing both of them had been sons of men who had hated their very existence.

"I do like the idea that someday Casterly Rock would go to my son and not some other Lannister family member. I'd like the opportunity to be a better father than mine was."

Sam nodded, agreeing.

"And ultimately, I'd like Linnea to be happy. She wants to be a mother and I want to give her everything she wants."

"My Lord, I think it will just take time. Keep doing what you're doing."

Tyrion nodded, "Thank you, Sam."

Sam stood and took up the water pitcher he'd been carrying and started toward the door.

"It's likely your wife is bored. You might help her find more to occupy her time." Sam gave Tyrion one more small smile and left the office. Tyrion thought more about their conversation. He had never wanted children, he'd been content to be uncle to Cersei's little monster and his brother and sister. If he'd fathered a child with one of the King's Landing whores, even Shae, he would never have been able to claim it as his legitimate heir. His thoughts turned to Linnea, the sadness in her eyes at his admission of his own assumed sterility. He felt horrible guilt at his unfeeling response to her.

He was startled by the entrance of Wenderly, his squire.

"Wenderly?" He greeted him.

The squire bowed slightly at the waist, "Good morning, my Lord, Her Highness Linnea requests you back at the Tower of the Hand."

Tyrion felt a wave of relief, "Now?"

"Yes my Lord."

"Yes, of course," Tyrion left the office following Wenderly out to the courtyard. They crossed the lawn and came to the main entry to the Tower of the Hand. "Wenderly, please send for a jug of wine, a plate of fruit, and some bread. Then leave word with the council that I will be out today and take the rest of the day off."

"Yes, my Lord." Wenderly jogged back toward the kitchens and Tyrion climbed the stairs to the master bedroom.

He gave a soft knock on the door and pushed it open. Linnea stood at the far window that looked out toward the bay. She wore the sapphire blue silk robe that she'd worn the first night they were together on the eve of their wedding. Her hair had been washed and brushed into long curls. Her face had its color back and her blue eyes sparkled in the morning light.

She looked over at the sound of the door and gave him a small smile. Tyrion walked to her and she sat on the edge of the chaise lounge to look into his face.

"Linnea, I'm so sorry," he started, but she shook her head violently.

"No, my love. I'm sorry. I lashed out in anger and I acted like a silly, spoiled child."

"No apology is necessary. I'm sorry we never talked about what you wanted from our marriage and from your life here."

"You, Tyrion. I want you," she smiled. "I came here for my country and I never expected to find happiness in the arms of my match, but I have. You're a good man, Tyrion Lannister and I'm happy just to be with you."

Tyrion cupped her chin in his hands and drew her lips to his. He relished their kiss of reconciliation and felt the familiar feeling of arousal starting between them.

Tyrion pulled back and looked into Linnea's eyes. "My love, I'm so happy that you came into my life and I'm glad that you're happy to be here, but I want you to have a child as well. I want you to have my child and you will."

Linnea's eyes had tears in the corners but she smiled. "Yes," she nodded. Tyrion pressed his lips to hers again and he felt her hand on the clasps of his rumpled jerkin. They kissed harder as she pushed the leather from his shoulders and pulled at the ties of his tunic. They broke their kiss just long enough to pull the garment over his head.

Tyrion's hands snaked into Linnea's long blonde curls, down the sides of her neck and along the edges of her silk robe.

She moaned into his mouth when he cupped her breast though the silk, her nipple hardening in his palm.

Tyrion dropped his head to her neck and Linnea went to work on the ties of his breeches. Opening them she reached a hand in to grasp his rock hard cock making it Tyrion's turn to gasp.

Linnea pushed herself from the divan to kneel on the floor in front of him. She pulled down his breeches and smallclothes making his shaft spring forth. Linnea took it in her hand and stroked the shaft slowly from base to tip. She placed a soft kiss on the head of his cock, licking up the sweet precum that had leaked from the tip. Her tongue on his cock's opening made him weak in the knees. She felt him quiver and grasping his hips she manuevered him to sit at the edge of the chaise while she went to work between his legs. She continued to stroke the length of his cock and she dropped her head to the heavy balls beneath. She took one into her mouth and suckled as if sucking on a lolly. Tyrion moaned his appreciation. She went to the other testical and did the same. She felt Tyrion's hand on her head as she took both balls into her mouth, swirling them with her tongue.

"Gods, you're amazing..." he moaned.

Linnea pulled away for a couple deep breaths and to smile up at her husband.

Diving back down, she took the first inch of Tyrion's shaft into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the ribbed head. Then she slowly started to bob her head taking more cock into her mouth with each pass until she was taking his full length into her mouth and throat. Pulling away for another deep breath Linnea plunged down onto his shaft forcing her throat to take the head of his cock until she could wrap her lips around the base of him. She held herself there as long as she could, feeling his cock swell in her mouth and feeling has hand tighten in her hair as he neared his climax.

Linnea pulled away suddenly.

"Don't cum yet," she cooed.

"Uuuggggggghhhhhhhh," Tyrion let out a long gutteral moan as he held back his eruption while Linnea planted kisses on Tyrion's thighs, circling around his throbbing member.

Linnea stood slowly. She gently pressed his shoulders urging him back on the divan. She ran and hand through his dark blonde curls and kissed him deep while she straddled his hips on the plush cushion of the chaise. Her familiar naughty smile crossed her face as she pulled the ties of her silken robe allowing the fabric to fall open exposing her full breasts and soft stomach. Tyrion's hard cock rested against the wirey blonde curls of her mound.

Linnea kissed him again, nipping at his lower lip with her teeth while she ground her center against his cock. Tyrion could feel her wetness seeping from her, wetting his cock in anticipation of their physical union.