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

Baratheon?Reader (maybe) - You've Got To Pick A Pocket Or Two.

A/N- I decided to do an imagine based on the song "You've Got To Pick A Pocket Or Two," from Oliver! because it is one of my favourite musicals, and musical songs. I've been playing with the idea of a female Fagin for a while now, and thought it may be a good idea to set it in Flee Bottom. I hope you all like it.

"Up, up, up," you called into the room, moving from bed to bed and shaking the shoulder of each child as you passed them, "It's time to get up," you added, a little louder than before as they all began to stir. The room was dark, the only light coming from the cracks and gaps in the wooden roof. Each child rubbed their eyes as they rolled from their makeshift beds, some sleeping on coats on the floor.

"The sun is hardly up," one of the older boys grumbled, and you turned to him with your hands on your hips, causing him to fall silent.

"When is King's Landing most busy, Roderick?" you asked him, leaning down slightly. He remained silent, staring at you as his face turned red. "Can anyone tell me when King's Landing will be most busy?" you announced to the room, standing back up to full height and moving away from the boy.

"In the morning, when the market is on, Miss," one of the small girls told you, and you turned to her with a smile. You ran a finger over the girls cheek and nodded.

"Right you are," you told her softly, "and why is it important that it is busy?"

"Because it's harder to see someone picking pockets if it's busy," one of the other girls announced.

"And it's easier to get distracted when the town is full of people," another boy called out to the group.

You let out a light chuckle. "Well then children, you must know that it is time for you to go out to work," you called out to them and you watched as the room emptied, the door clattering shut as the last child left. You heard the door creaking open again as you fiddled with a handkerchief one of the children had brought back the day before, it was clean, but the initial stitched into the corner would make it impossible to sell. You set it down, not looking up as you grabbed the dagger that was nestled against your hip, pointing it at whoever was moving towards you without looking up from your work. "How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry, I was just curious as to what was in here," a little girls voice told you, and you quickly glanced over at her, giving her a small smile.

"And what would you be doing alone in Flee Bottom?" you asked her, looking over her ratty clothes.

"I'm not alone," she started, pausing when you tutted at her.

"I don't like liars," you told her quietly, "Thieves and frauds I can stand, but liars truly grate on me," you continued and she nodded slightly.

"I can't go back to the Red Keep," she muttered and you nodded as you watched her.

"Why?"

She was silent for a moment, staring at you until you raised your eyebrow at her. "My father is Eddard Stark," she told you quietly and you continued to nod.

"He's a good man, he gave me some money for the other children," you uttered quietly, "you can stay with us for as long as you need, child," you told her and she smiled, a toothy smile, up at you.

"Where were they all going?" she asked, glancing at the door she had just come through.

"To work, child, they will explain when they return." She nodded in agreement and continued to survey the room, "It's nothing special, but it's home." The two of you fell into silence as you began picking at the stitching on the handkerchief before you.