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

Young!Robert Baratheon X Reader - Call Me When You're Sober

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song 'Call Me When You're Sober' by Evanescence. I hope you all enjoy it.

The banging on your door was enough to raise you from your somewhat peaceful sleep. Gods, it would have been enough to wake even the dead. But, it seemed Robert didn't agree with you. As he pounded on the wood of the door, he had taken to calling out your name, alerting everyone in the Red Keep to his need for attention.

Part of you wanted to stay in bed and ignore him. Eventually, like a child, he would tire himself out and skulk off to his own chambers. But it seemed that the longer you resisted the louder he got, and you could only imagine the grumbled complaints you would get in the morning if you didn't silence him sooner rather than later. 

You climbed out of your bed, grabbing for your robe and tying it hastily around your body. As you reached the door, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself.

As you yanked the door open, Robert almost stumbled forwards, a lopsided grin coming to his lips as his eyes found you. "Y/N," he started, this time much quieter than he had been yelling it moments ago.

"What are you doing? It's the middle of the night," you hissed at him, stepping back and allowing him to come slouching into your chambers. "People are trying to sleep," you added, fixing him with a scowl. 

He gave a quick shrug, coming towards you in an attempt to pull you into his chest. "I wanted to see you," he uttered, causing you to scoff. You knew exactly how Robert worked, better than almost anyone. He would get shit-faced every other evening, and then he would get sad. You had been eager to comfort him when you were younger; he was handsome, and could be the sweetest man on the planet, not to mention him being the King. But then he had gotten into the habit of coming to you every time he got drunk, and he was getting drunk more and more often as time wore on.

"It couldn't have waited until morning?" you asked, stepping out of his reach and watching him pout at you. It would have been comical if you weren't so tired of the drunken stupor that he had begun to take on so frequently. "I'm tired," you added, stepping away again as he moved towards you. 

"But I missed you," he uttered, his pout going from playful to a proper frown. 

"I'm amazed you can even remember who I am," you bit out, wincing as soon as the words escaped you. You were usually so good at holding your tongue, but now you were so tired, and bitter, and frustrated that the words slipped out effortlessly. 

"Why wouldn't I remember you?" Robert looked confused, his brow furrowed as though he was trying to work out the most difficult equation ever created. 

You shrugged slightly, shaking your head. "It doesn't matter," you murmured, pulling your eyes away from him and staring down at your own feet. "You should go to bed or you'll feel rotten in court tomorrow," you added, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

"Why wouldn't I remember you?" he repeated a little more firmly, reaching out to take your hand in his. 

You wanted to pull away from him again, but all of the energy was drained from your body as you finally glanced up at him. "Because you're only ever interested in seeing me when you're drunk off your arse."

Robert swallowed, his eyes fixed on your face. "Oh."

"I didn't mind it when we were first courting, but now you come here and you tell me you love me and then you practically ignore me during the day-"

"You didn't want people to know," he uttered, interrupting your ramble. "I would've had you at my side every day if I knew you were ready for people to know about us."

You shook your head as you pulled your hand out of his. "And how would I tell you? I'm not going to have a serious conversation about marriage with you when you're completely pissed." You were angry now. There was no way you were going to allow him to get away with pushing the blame onto you. "If I ever got a chance to see you when you were sober you would've known months ago," you added, jaw set as you stared at him.

"What are you trying to say?" he grumbled. 

"How am I supposed to marry you when I've only ever known you when you've had a drink?"

A flash of pain crossed Robert's face, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he glanced away from you for a moment. "So you don't want to marry me?"

"Of course I want to marry you, but I need to know that you won't be out drinking every night rather than at home with me." You paused for a moment, watching as he thought about your comment. "I'm not saying you have to stop drinking completely, just that you should slow down a little. You're going to end up putting yourself in an early grave if you carry on like this. I don't want to be a widow before we've even experienced life together properly."

Robert nodded slightly, his hand coming up to run over his bearded jaw. "Okay," he uttered softly. "I'll cut down on the drink."

You took his free hand in yours, bringing the knuckles up to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. "Thank you," you started, finally allowing yourself to fall into his arms properly. You stood like that for some time, held in each others embrace. 

"So, you're ready to tell people?" he murmured, breaking the silence of the room.

"I am if you are," you started, pulling back to glance up at him with a small smile.

Robert gave a sharp chuckle. "I've been waiting to show you off for months," he uttered, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. 

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