Game of Thrones Imagines

Undead heart - Part 2 - Tywin x Reader

Second part of a request for TrashMonarch. Now, I know you are going to think, OMG that's Blade, and yes, you're right. But the actual myths that I am using come (which were used for Blade) from the Balkans, Serbia, Albania, and Bulgaria. So, I hope you don't think of Wesley Snipes too much when you read this. 😁

(Y/n) walk through the Red Keep. The Lannister bannermen bowing respectfully as she made her way up to Tywin's rooms. She was the only person willing to set foot in the Tower of the Hand. The only one that didn't seem to fear the undead creature that the old lion was. The only one that didn't fear the eternal darkness that sat over the tower like a death shroud. To many, (Y/n) was the light to Tywin's darkness. There was something about her that made others feel drawn to her. Made them feel at ease. But still, those around her couldn't help but notice that there was something a little unusual about the beautiful woman. Despite her form, she seemed to be physically even stronger than even the Mountain. She could sense, hear, see, and smell things that those around her couldn't. But strangest of all, (Y/n) never seemed to cast a shadow.

"Tywin. Where are you?" (Y/n) called out, as she entered his room. Her eyes scanning the dark recesses of the room that was lit by only a few candles.

"I am trying to sleep. What do you want, (Y/n)?" A gruff voice replied. (Y/n) chuckling slightly as she moved to the window and threw back the heavy black curtains to reveal a giant moon.

"How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone? Do I have to rip your throat out to be rid of you?" Tywin continued to grumble, as he felt the side of the bed dip next to him.

"You have probably told me a thousand times, and you will probably tell me a thousand times more." (Y/n) began, as she pulled the black sheets from the old lion's head. Smiling at him as he began to growl.

"And we both know that you would never rip my throat out. Now, you are going to take me for a walk in the moonlight." (Y/n) continued, as she watched Tywin reluctantly rise from him bed, and begin to dress.

"I have things to do (Y/n). The Kingdom does not rule itself, no matter what Robert Baratheon may think. I don't have time to waste on you." Tywin hissed disdainfully, as he glared at her. (Y/n) not seeming to be phased by his harsh words, his tone, or his glare.

"Now, here was I thinking that Tywin Lannister was a man of honour. Despite your.......... unfortunate state. And I seem to remember that you promised to take me out into the garden. So, as the Hand of the King, and a Lannister, I would expect you to do as you promised." (Y/n) told him. Continuing to chuckle as she listened to Tywin's prolonged grumble. The old lion making his way over to the table that held a single goblet and a jug. The Lannister patriarch pouring himself a glass of rich red liquid, that was anything but wine.

"Did I promise you that so that you would leave me alone?" Tywin asked, as he fought the urge to stare at the woman that was draped in a gown as crimson as the blood in his glass. Her neck, shoulders, and the tops of her rounded breasts uncovered, all seeming to tempt him to bite them. He could hear the warm blood flowing through her veins. He could hear her heart pound. The undead lion gulping down the blood in his glass, rather than sinking his teeth into (Y/n)'s flesh.

"Well, yes. But that's not the point. You promised. And a promise is a promise. Whatever you have to do for Robert can wait. I on the other hand, can't." (Y/n) replied, as she rose from the bed and walked over to the scowling man.

Tywin knew that it didn't matter if he protested. It didn't matter if he threatened or growled. He knew it didn't matter what he did. (Y/n) would have her way, and it was best not to fight it.

"Fine." Tywin huffed indignantly, as (Y/n) happily took him by the arm and led him from his rooms.

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