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

Petyr Baelish X Tully!Reader - Amy: Requested

A/N - This chapter was requested by user: _marvel-nerd_. It was inspired by 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott, and more specifically Greta Gerwig's 2019 film adaptation of the novel, which I adored. This chapter is titled 'Amy' after one of the songs on the soundtrack, which I listened to during the writing process, and also after the character that inspired this whole chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

The Maester's medical office was always quiet. When you were a child it had been unnerving, the eery silence that you would have to sit in whilst you waited to be examined for whichever ailment was plaguing you at the time. The Maester would go outside with your mother to discuss your treatment and you would be left alone, staring around the dreadful room and wishing to be saved from your turmoil. The worst part was never the quiet, but instead the decor. The Maester has an obsession with collecting things. There were bookshelves lining the walls, stacked to the point of almost collapsing under the weight of his piles and piles of volumes. And then there were the jars. Dreadful things full of dirty coloured liquids and body parts in varying states of decay. It was terrifying as a child, and even now they left you uneasy.

But now, you were here by choice. You hadn't been in Riverrun when Petyr had attempted to fight for your older sister's hand in marriage, and you were almost glad you hadn't been. It would have broken your heart to see how far he would go for a woman who would never love him, and even more so to see him hurt so cruelly when he had never stood a chance of winning.

You crept into the quiet room, your shoes making a light tapping sound on the stone floors. If it were anyone else on bed rest you would never have considered coming to visit. Seven Hells, you wouldn't have even come to see your sisters. But Petyr was your closest friend, and you would have rather died than leave him alone in such a dreadfully dull place.

"Petyr?" you uttered, craning your neck to look around the room. Perhaps, some small part of you hoped he wouldn't be there. It would all have been so much easier if he had been allowed to recover in his own chambers. "Are you in here?"

A groan drew your attention to the other side of the room, and you moved as quickly as you could through the lines of bookshelves to reach one of the examination beds. Petyr looked awful; pale and gaunt, completely unlike the man you had seen only a few weeks before. "Y/N? You aren't due back for another week."

"Father cut our trip short. He heard about your interaction with Lord Stark's son," you uttered, dragging a chair over to sit beside his bed. "You are the most idiotic person I've ever met," you added, shaking your head. 

"It was all in the name of love," he started, groaning again when he shifted to look in your direction. 

"Is love truly worth dying over?" There was a moment of silence, and you simply shook your head again. "I know you care about Cat, but if she doesn't love you back what's the point in fighting for her hand?" Petyr didn't answer, simply shrugging with a small wince. "He did a real number on you, didn't he?"

Petyr let out a soft chuckle. "It could've been worse. He could have taken my head."

Your lips were pursed as you watched him. You didn't want to think about the possibility of living in a world without Petyr in it, but here he was, putting himself at risk; forcing you to imagine it. "I would have killed him if he had."

*Time Skip*

After some time, you'd managed to persuade the Maester to allow Petyr some semblance of freedom. Once he was able to move on his own, you would walk with him to the gardens and get him some fresh air; something that you were certain would bring about better health.

"You've been very good to me," Petyr had mumbled one afternoon as you both sat out in the courtyard. "Far better than I deserve."

You glanced up from your book, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "Did you expect me to abandon you?" 

"No," he uttered softly, shifting to lower the book to the blanket you were sitting on. "But I thought you would be upset with me."

"I was, but I got over it."

You raised your book again, going back to your reading and setting Petyr's strange behaviour out of your mind. But then his hand was there again, lowering the book to look at you. "Why haven't you married yet?"

Your brow furrowed at the question. You had never spoken with Petyr about the ideas of marriage and betrothal. It had always been too difficult for you to picture yourself with anyone but him, and as such had set the idea out of your mind entirely. "No one has ever asked me to, I suppose," you started, sending him a half-hearted smile. 

"I don't believe that," he murmured, shifting to take the book from your hands completely. "I think you've had plenty of suitors and you've turned them all away."

"What difference does it make?" you bit out, your frustration at his interruptions begging to escape your control.

"Well I need to know whether you would say yes if I asked."

Without a moment's notice it was as if the air had been knocked out of your lungs and you were scrambling to your feet. You needed to put some space between you as quickly as you could manage or you would likely do or say something very regrettable. 

"Y/N, wait," he uttered, struggling to his feet and taking your wrist in his hand, holding you in place. 

"No," you cried out, pulling your arm out of his grip and staring down at him in disbelief. "This isn't fair," you yelped at him, shaking your head in an attempt to clear it.

"I want to marry you. What is so unfair about that?"

You licked your lips, looking away from him for as long as you could manage before your eyes began to seek him out once more. "I have been second to Cat my whole life in everything. I will not be the person you settle for because you cannot have her. I won't do it, not when I've spent my entire life loving you."

You released a breath as your eyes filled with tears. And then a second later you were gone, marching away in the hopes that you would be able to reach your chambers before anyone could stop you.

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