Lone Wolf || Tyrion Lannister

Chapter Twenty Four

Once they were done with their meal and had talked well into the night, Anari and Tyrion decided to get ready for bed. Tyrion helped untie Anari's braids, their eyes periodically meeting in the mirror of Anari's vanity. It was such an innocent act, yet it felt so intimate.

When Anari's hair was free of the braids, she brushed through her red locks to ensure there weren't any tangled. After that, it was simple as Anari removed her dress so that she was left in her under shift. Tyrion had a much easier time getting in more relaxed attire, as he merely removed his jerkin and belt before climbing onto the bed.

The room was cast in a dull glow, as the fire in the hearth still crackled gently where it sat, and a lone candle stood on the nightstand. After debating with herself for a moment, Anari decided she would initiate physical contact. Ever since they had been together, she found herself wanting his touch.

Not just in an intimate way. Anari wanted to hold his hand or arm, to maybe be bold and steal a kiss on the cheek. Something, she didn't care what it was; Anari just wanted that connection with him. With Tyrion.

Leaning over, as they were facing one another, Anari placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The action caught Tyrion off guard, and once more his face tingled where her lips had lightly grazed his skin. Every time they touched, it felt different; Anari wasn't the only one wanting to be close.

Never before had a woman made Tyrion feel the way he did. It was a little scary, really; however, he enjoyed it nonetheless. It wasn't often Tyrion received affection, and it meant the world to receive such a thing from Anari, from his wife.

Deciding to be bold himself, Tyrion leaned forward to place a chaste kiss to her lips. He wasn't sure if Anari was comfortable going any further in their relationship. While they had been together once, he didn't know if she wanted to do such a thing again.

Anari's answering smile was all Tyrion needed as reassurance. He knew she would tell him she didn't like or want something. When their lips met again, neither one was sure as to who initiated it. Tyrion didn't let her move away, though, as he gently cupped the side of her face.

Their kiss lingered as their hearts raced as one. They didn't need words, no, they had both learned enough about one another and trusted one another deep enough to understand. The fire that burned in the hearth crackled as if responding to the intimacy in the room.

Later, as the candle had been blown out, hands were gently laced together as the red-haired wolf rested her head on the golden lion's shoulder.

~

"You drink more than you used to," Jaime observed as Cersei had a glass in her hand.

"Yes," Cersei replied.

"Why?" Jaime questioned when she didn't elaborate any further.

"Oh, let's see," Cersei began. "You started a brawl in the streets with Ned Stark and disappear from the capital, my husband died in a tragic hunting accident."

"It must have been traumatic for you," Jaime scoffed.

"My only daughter was shipped off to Dorne," Cersei continued, ignoring his jibe. "We suffered through a siege."

"A rather short siege," Jaime reminded her.

"A rather short siege that I didn't expect to survive," Cersei sneered lightly in return. "Now I'm marrying my eldest son to a wicked little bitch from Highgarden while I'm supposed to marry her brother, a renowned pillow biter. My wretched little brother married the Northern whore who has done nothing but ruin everything, so..."

In the end, Cersei trailed off as Jaime sat down next to her.

"Father disowned me today," Jaime said softly.