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

Tyrion Lannister X Stark!Reader - Survival

A/N- this imagine is based on the song Survival by Eminem ft. Liz Rodrigues. It is set in a world where Tyrion was married to Sansa's older sister, Y/N Stark. It's a little shorter than usual, but I hope you all enjoy it.

"It's over, Y/N, we've lost." You almost growled as you rounded on Tyrion where he stood behind you, snarling as you took a few steps to close the space between you.

"It's not over until I say it's over," you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and steadying your voice, "we aren't going to just give in and let those creatures take Winterfell from us."

You ran your tongue over your lips for a moment, walking back over to look over the battlefield as some of Daenerys' men ran towards their death. "You won't be safe up here."

You nodded. It was true, you wouldn't be safe were the dead to overrun the walls, but at least you wouldn't die hidden away in the crypts. "I know." You were both quiet for a moment, watching as the flames began to die in the distance. "You should go, they'll be expecting you."

"They're expecting you, too."

"Then you may make my excuses for me." 

Tyrion paused for a moment, a deep sigh escaping him. "Sansa will not be happy."

"My sister is never happy when it comes to me, darling, you should know that by now." You turned, sending him a small smile over your shoulder. 

Tyrion reached out, taking your hand in his for a moment. "I love you. Please, come with me."

Your heart softened for a moment and for just a single second you considered doing as he had asked: heading down to the crypts and abandoning your people out in the cold to die.

"No." The answer was so simple that neither of you truly responded to it, standing close together and looking at one another as though you were both waiting for something else to happen.

Finally, Tyrion nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and letting his eyes fall closed. "Okay." You watched with a furrowed brow as he moved away from you, settling himself down on the ground. He smiled as he glanced up at you, patting the ground beside him. "We ought to get comfortable if we are going to be up here all night, don't you agree?"

You shook your head, releasing a choked laugh that had been caught in your throat as you shifted to sit beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. 

*Time Skip*

Everything had gone wrong. The walls had been overrun by walkers so quickly that you had been left breathless, clinging to Tyrion's hand and you dragged him through the corridors of Winterfell. Gods, how had you all been so clueless. Jon had told you about their power, about the way they worked, but you had never truly believed him. 

You had realised that the first moment you had seen one for yourself, it's dead eyes staring back at you. It was horrifying, and you had frozen on the spot until your husband had taken a weapon to its head.

And now, there was no way to win, you were sure of it. 

Your feet must have carried you on instinct because soon you found yourself shoving open the door to your parent's bedchambers. It had been so long since you had been in here, and yet it would always be a place of comfort for you, as it had been when you were a child. It was different now, though. Sansa had made this space her own, and though she had allowed your parent's furniture to remain, it was the slight changes that made it feel unusual. The hairbrush on the vanity was not your mothers, but hers. The dresses, set out for her by the chambermaid that morning, were smaller to fit her slimmer frame. There was no quill and ink on the desk, as there would have been, were your father still here.

You paused again, glancing around the room for a moment, before turning back to your husband. "We need to barricade the door."

You spent most of the war against the dead huddled against Tyrion's side, your eyes pressed firmly closed. If you kept them closed you could almost hear what was happening outside; you could hear the dead taking the castle room by room. 

You could even hear Jon yelling, somehow recognising your brother's voice amongst the crowd of voices. And then the world went silent. Your eyes shot open, meeting Tyrion's with wide anticipation. 

"Is it over?" Your voice was so soft it barely made a sound.

Tyrion didn't answer, shifting away from you and moving towards the window to look outside. A small, half-laugh escaped his lips as he gestured for you to come and join him. You did as you were told, and as your eyes met the landscape his words matched your thoughts: "We won."

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