Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Reader x Stannis Baratheon - Waiting For Love

A/N- This imagine came to fruition whilst I was listening to 'Waiting for Love' by Avicii, and since it recently came out that he committed suicide, and it is Mental Health Awareness Month in the US at the moment it seemed fitting to remember him in my writing. He was an incredible musician and I think the music industry has lost a young talent that would have only kept growing in the future. If you are, or anyone you know is, suffering with a mental illness please seek out help, whether that is by talking to a friend or family member, going to the doctors, or seeing a therapist. You are all loved and appreciated here and I I want you to know that if you ever need someone to listen to your concerns my Direct Messaging is always open to you. I might continue this imagine at some point, let me know what you think. Thank you, L x.

"You cannot keep ignoring me," you father muttered, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder as he walked up behind you. He released a deep sigh when you didn't respond, moving around to sit in front of you and pulling your book from your hands. You shot him a glare, wishing he would just leave you alone and stop with whatever it was he was planning on doing. "Stannis is a good match for you Y/N, he will make a good husband," he told you softly.

"But I do not love him," you answered, attempting to stop the anger you were feeling come out in your voice. You had always had a habit of letting your temper get the better of you, but you were trying to convince your father that you would be mature enough to make your own decisions when it came to your upcoming marriage.

"You will grow to," he told you with a shrug, "Your mother did not love me when we were first betrothed," he added, giving you a soft smile.

"He had a wife before me, he has already loved someone," you muttered softly, shifting in your seat and holding out your hand for your book, "what makes you think he would love another just because he chooses to fill his bed again?" You got to your feet as soon as the heavy volume hit your palm, placing it back on its shelf and marching yourself out into the hallway.

"Come back, Y/N," you heard your father yell after you, his voice echoing down the halls and chasing you all the way back to your chambers.

You hadn't wanted to marry Stannis as soon as the suggestion had left your fathers 's mouth, but it seemed that the more you argued, the more determined it made him to prove that you would eventually grow to love your husband. If your brother had still been with you he would have rejected the idea immediately, he had always been far more protective of you than your father had, and sending you off to marry a man you had never met didn't seem like a safe idea.

Your eyes wandered around your chambers as you let the door click shut behind you, memorising every small detail you had grown up with. You had always loved the cool breeze that would come through the shutters and onto the bed. You wondered whether Stannis would allow you to rearrange his bedchambers when you arrived in his home, you had always preferred the cold. On a shelf on the far wall there were a few small items that you had collected; a small doll your brother had given you when you were first born; three thick books, which you had read through a thousand times; your first cross-stitch project with all of it's fraying edges; and a tiny smooth stone that you had found when you had been walking with your mother. It was a child's room, not the chambers of someone who was about to be wed, and you would miss it dearly, no matter where you were going.

A small knock drew your eyes back to the door and you moved slowly to pull it open, smiling softly at your mother's solemn expression. "Your father asked me to speak with you," she told you, moving past you and into the room. You pressed the door shut again before moving to sit at the foot of your bed, watching your mother pace until she reached the shelf that had held your attention for so long. She reached up, plucking the doll from her spot and smiling down at her. She let out a light chuckle, "Josephine," she muttered the dolls name under her breath before glancing back up at you.