(A/N) - This imagine is based on the song 'Underneath Your Clothes' by Shakira. I hope you all enjoy it.
You had found yourself, once again, in your happy place. The early morning sunlight drifting through the cracks in the shutters. The warm bedding drawn up to your chest, covering your otherwise naked body. And your perfect husband, snoring lightly beside you whilst you traced the scars that marked the skin of his torso.
It was moments like this when you were most relaxed, though you would never tell Jaime that. He would laugh and tell you how vast and beautiful the world was, how your chambers was a waste of a happy place. But he would never change your mind, no matter where he took you, or what he told you, he would never stop this being perfect to you.
You had earned this happy place too, both of you had. You had been through so much before having met Jaime that you were sure that this happiness was owed to you. You had grown up taking orders from your family, and as much as you had loved them you had been more like a servant than a child to your parents.
And then one night you were startled awake by the sound of swords clashing outside of your home. You had run to look from the windows and had seen your oldest brother slaughtered by one of the Targaryen soldiers, who looked up and noticed you watching with a smirk on his face. He had soon made his way into your chambers, and was attempting to force you down onto the floor, pulling at the hem of your nightclothes when he was shoved off of you by Jaime. He had fought him away from you, gaining a small scar on his right bicep, before helping you to your feet, keeping you by his side and protecting you for the rest of the night.
When you looked around the house the next morning, you found that your family had fled, leaving you alone in the house. You cried, though you were more angry than sad. You had done everything for your family and they had left you when it came to a difficult time, too concerned for their own safety to even wake you from your sleep.
So, you felt you had earned this little bit of happiness. You thought about that moment in your chambers as you ran one of your fingers across his arm. The scar was faint, but it was there, and to you it would always stand out as a symbol of his love for you.
When Jaime introduced you to his family he told you not to tell his father of your parents. He said that his father would never accept you if he knew you weren't a lady, but you wouldn't listen to him, telling him that you would not lie to his family about who you were. You told him that if he loved you then they would have to get used to it, and he had smiled down at you and pressed his lips to yours. Of course he loved you, you were his little damsel in distress and he would do anything for you, so he told his father about how you had met.
He had taken the news of your low born status relatively well, accepting that the only way Jaime would marry would be if he were marrying you, and that was good enough for him. And once you had gotten back to Jaime's chambers he'd kissed you with so much force you forgot how to breathe, pulling away with red cheeks, panting as you fanned your face. He had shown you how much he loved you multiple times that night, and you were happier than you had ever been before. He was yours, and you were his, just as you had always wanted it to be.
Once you were married, you didn't know what to do with yourselves, walking aimlessly together, with stupid happy grins plastered on your faces. Neither of you had ever imagined that you would marry, you were the youngest child of a family who were not considered well-off enough for anyone to want to marry their sons to you, and Jaime had been part of the King's Guard, but after the Targaryen's had been forced from the Iron Throne he had stepped down in order to marry you.
You always told Jaime that you loved him more than anything, and before you were married he would laugh, not believing that anyone could love someone like him. He considered himself a murderer and a traitor, though he had never had any choice in his actions. But you always promised that you did, that to you he was perfect, and that you understood why he had done what he had to the Mad King. In fact, you had thanked him for it, he was the reason that your brother was dead and you were happy that Jaime was the one to offer the final blow to the old Targaryen man. But once the two of you had said your vows, he began to believe you, noticing the way you looked at him and smiled just at the sight of him, and how you went out of your way to see him smile too.
And in this moment, when you were laying beside him, his arms wrapped around you as you snuggled into his warmth, there was nothing in the world you would have enjoyed more. Even if hadn't wanted to love Jaime, you couldn't have stopped yourself. Every time he smiled at you, your heart fluttered and your cheeks heated up as you began to blush, and everyone knew it. You had heard many a comment from the other Ladies in the court about how in love you and your husband were, they were not so accustomed to real love, they would see Cersei and Robert and think of it as the norm, but you two were genuinely happy, which seemed like a big talking point among many of the women you knew.
Of course, these same women didn't enjoy your company too much. You were not a stereotypical lady, in the same way that your relationship was not the stereotypical one made for a political advancement. You were loud at times, and enjoyed laughing and playing with the children who lived in the Red Keep, where everyone else would avoid them. You were kind to everyone, even those who were not considered to be worthy of the time of the high-born Ladies. And even though many people were not fond of you for these reasons, it was these traits that made Jaime love you all the more.
You were still running your fingers over Jaime's chest when you heard him chuckle, and you felt his hand run up your spine. "What are you doing?" he asked as his eyes opened to look over at you with a smile, waiting for a response.
"Nothing," you murmured, you fingers still drifting over his skin as you snuggled closer into his arms. "Just looking at my husband," you added as you leant forward to kiss his cheek.
"He must be a very lucky man," he told you as he moved you so that you were laying on his chest. "Because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he added, causing you to chuckle and bury your face into his neck. "I love you," he spoke again after a moments pause.
You hummed, smiling as you pressed your lips into his skin. "I love you more."
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