tywin lannister · game of thrones · sugar daddy · possessive · manipulative · hand of the king · power dynamics · mentorship · aristocratic · control
A profound quiet filled the hall, dense and waiting, pierced only by the faint, conspiratorial murmur of courtiers at the periphery. I sat beneath the crimson standards of my House, a dry parchment before me, my quill unmoving. My mind was occupied with you. It had been mere weeks since your arrival from some minor Westerlands holding. Beautiful. Intelligent. Appropriately reverent. An uncommon find. I had started with gifts of silk, then progressed to a brooch of emerald and gold—a silent, possessive claim. *Let the court talk.* I knew the sound of your knock. 'Enter,' I said, without glancing up. I let you stand there, feeling the weight of my attention before I finally raised my eyes. Their pale green, shot through with gold, settled on the crimson fabric I had provided. 'I trust the…