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Media - Game Of Thrones
Character - Lancel Lannister
Couple - Lancel X Reader
Reader - Y/n (Speech Impediment)
Rating - 17+ (Brief Nudity)
Word Count - 1388
Lancel stood at the altar of the Sept of Baelor, his father Kevan beside him as they waited.
Lancel had always known he would have to marry, it was his duty to carry on the legacy of House Lannister, after all…
Cersei Lannister’s children would be known as Baratheons.
Jamie had taken the Kingsguard oath and would never father children of his name.
Tyrion had always refused to marry, and even if he did, Tywin would never allow him or his children to inherit Casterly Rock.
Kevan was growing old and knew any more children were not to come of him.
Willem and Martyn had been slaughtered by the KarStarks.
And Tyrek had been missing since the riot of King's Landing.
So the fate of the name Lannister, and the lordship of Casterly Rock, lay in Lancel’s thin hands.
But he was still not thrilled about it, knowing his bride-to-be was merely a mystery lady from somewhere in the seven kingdoms. Someone he needed to wed for political reasons, that he had no say in whatsoever.
He immediately began to panic, worrying that this bride could be some… hideous creature a lord merely wanted rid of. Perhaps a laugh like swords clanking, perhaps a scent like rotting corpses, perhaps an awful name, perhaps two lances short of a tourney.
There had to be something wrong with her, it couldn’t be this easy. He had been mocked by his betters and his own family for so long, he was not foolish enough to believe there was nothing awful about this girl.
He heard the doors, and immediately his blood ran cold.
The septon took his place between the statues of The Mother and The Father, where the candles and rings sat waiting.
Lancel listened to the slow and tender steps of his bride, hearing her dress flutter slightly as she moved. Until he felt their presence behind him.
Her father coughed,
So Lancel turned and met the tall elderly man, who held the hand of the young bride.
She seemed small, shorter than Lancel but not worryingly so. She didn’t seem too chubby or too thin, the soft ivory gown fell off her softly, the silk graced with a soft spiderweb lace. With a marching veil to hide her face. She wore her maiden’s cloak, with black and gold spiders embroidered on it, with the same lace.
She must have been of House Web, from the Riverlands.
The lord offered her hand to Lancel, and he nodded sheepishly, taking it.
Lancel did his best to draw her closer, trying to judge this girl. But… nothing seemed strange or odd about her.
The septon made the blessings, the promises, and the old songs sung. The challenge was made, and no voice was raised.
Her father came and removed the cloak of House Web from her shoulders,
Lancel trembled but pulled the cloak of House Lannister from his own shoulders and gently wrapped her in it protectively, offering her a kind smile. He did his best to say the words, even if he found them hard to say, barely able to hear his own bride’s voice beyond his fears.
“I bind you now, in sight of the gods as one body, man and wife, from this day, for all eternity.” The septon said as he bound Lancel’s hand with his bride's.
“Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. She is mine, I am hers, from this day until the end of my days, and take you as my Lady and Wife.”
“Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. He is mine, I am his, from this day until the end of my days, and take you as my Word and Husband.”
Lancel thought he heard her slip up, but… assumed it merely to be nerves. He held his breath and turned to face her, pulling up her veil to reveal her face. He had… honestly expected… he didn’t even know. But she was sweet, cute, and beautiful. A girl he would be happy to greet with a kiss each day. But he cleared his throat and tried to hide his smile, “With this kiss, I pledge my love.” He slowly leant down and pressed a kiss to her lips. He found them soft, tender and smelled of sweet roses; he almost didn’t want to pull back, but he had to.
“One flesh, one heart, one Soul, now and forever. Ser Lancel and Lady Y/n Lannister!”
Cheers erupted from the sept as celebration began, as much as he wanted time with his new lady there was politics to do. The feast was long with many gifts and thanks from lords and ladies, the pie went off without a hitch, delicious too to boot. And the night went on much as any wedding did, giving Lancel barely moments with his bride.
Finally, as the night drew dark, Lancel declined the bedding for privacy's sake and led his Lady to their chambers for the night.
As they walked, he once again became worried. So far, she had been a delight, sweet, beautiful, and kind in brief interaction. He worried if something was about to make itself known… he still couldn’t believe that his family would be so kind to him and give him a nice bride. Something had to be wrong with her!
He worried about what might be under her gown, perhaps a body he would wish he could never see, but regardless, she was his wife now, and he must make the best of it.
Once they shut their chamber door, Lancel immediately made himself a drink to gather some courage for his wedding night. “I uh, A drink, my lady?”
“Thank you,” she nodded,
He poured her one and began to stutter once more, “So uhh… Y/n, are uhh… are ummm,” He tried to form words, but when he looked up to give her the goblet of wine, he froze up.
As Y/n stood by his golden bed, slowly undoing the many layers of her wedding gown, allowing the dress to fall to her feet, she turned to face him, fixing her hair. “Yes?”
He almost dropped the wine, his eyes wide… She was… Gorgeous! A body he could only have dreamt of, better than even the queen herself. He was shocked, gobsmacked! She was cute! Kind! Pretty! Had a perfect body! She was… the perfect wife. But he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t process that she was this good of a wife, he was sure there had to have been something wrong with her! Something that made her family willing to wed her to him… surely she could have married far better than him. He downed his goblet of wine and handed her the other, forcing himself to speak. “So… My lady, you uh you are my wife now.”
“Yes,” She nodded, setting her wine down,
“And you are… happy with that?”
“Yes, you are very handsome.”
“Ohh… well thank you,” He blushed a little, “Are you excited to be my little lady Lannister?” He cooed,
“Yes, my Word,” she nodded, tossing on a white silk nightgown for the evening ahead,
He flinched a little, “Sorry?”
“Humm?”
“What did you say?”
“I said yes.”
“You said yes, my…word?”
Her smile fell, “Oh…”
“Why?”
“I didn’t mean to my Word,”
“There it is again!”
She whimpered softly,
“What’s wrong?”
“…I’m sorry,”
“Sorry for what?”
“I… I am not good at my L’s”
“No?”
She shook her head,
“Ohh, so… if you were to say my name?”
“….W-Wancel Wannister…”
“Oh!” He gasped, ‘There it is. There’s the thing.’ “One more time for me,”
“L-L-Wancel L-L-Wannister.”
“I… I don’t wanna be a rude but that is actually kinda hilarious.”
“You think so?” She asked,
“Yeah, I think it’s cute,” he smiled, “And I’m sure over time you’ll be able to say my name, right?”
“I hope so.” She nodded,
“Come on, could you give it a try for me?” He cooed, holding her waist softly,
“L-L-L- Wancel.”
“Come on, one more try, I know you can do it.”
“L-Lancel.”
“Hey! That’s my girl,” he cooed, giving her a little kiss.
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course not,” he smiled, “I was worried for something way worse. But I think it’s sweet and cute. I like your little W’s.”
“You do?”
“I do, I think it’s very very cute,” he cooed, kissing her nose, “now, shall we get to know one another, my sweet wife?”
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