Game of Thrones Imagines

In the mirror - Part 2 - Tyrion x Reader

So, this was going to be a two part imagine, but it looks like it might be a little longer 😁 Me and my cliff-hangers, I can't resist. I hope you all enjoy this second part.

Tyrion woke with a start. It wasn't the sound of thunder, or the crack of lightening that lit up his rooms that had stirred him from his slumbers, instead it was the sound of a woman crying, and despite the quiet sobs, Tyrion could still hear it above the elements that seemed to be splitting the night sky.

Looking around he could see nothing, the low glow from the embers of the fire lighting the room just enough so that he could make out that not another living soul was present in his chambers.

As another fork of lightening illuminated the darkness, Tyrion sat bolt upright in his bed, his eyes darting to all corners of his room as he looked for the source of the heartbreaking sound.

"Hello?" Tyrion called out cautiously, as he pulled back the covers on his bed, his feet dropping to the cold floor as he tentatively made his way around his room. He couldn't help but feel his heart go out to the woman who was crying, her pained sniffling strangely pulling him around his bed so that he stood in front of the large mirror.

Without warning his reflection in the mirror began to blur, as right before his eyes the scene changed from his dimly light room to an ornate brightly lit bed chamber that was most certainly not his. Tyrion's eye grew wide as he saw on the bed a weeping young woman, her head buried in her hands as she quietly sobbed. If Tyrion didn't know better, he would say that this may be some kind of alcohol induced hallucination, or strangely vivid dream; but as barely a drop of wine had passed his lips that night, and he was sure that he was wide awake, he had to put this vision down to something else.

"Hello." Tyrion said again, as he gulped down the large lump that had formed in his throat, stumbling backwards and falling over as the woman suddenly looked up, her piercing blue eyes staring at him in shock and disbelief, before she sprang to her feet and seemed to vanish from the scene.

For a moment Tyrion sat on the floor unable to believe that he was seeing what he was seeing. The whole thing defied everything he knew, everything he believed, yet he couldn't deny that the whole scene seemed more than real, and part of him wanted to know more.

"I'm.........I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Tyrion said softly, as he finally rose to his feet and stood before the mirror, hoping that the woman would reappear.

"I don't mean you any harm, my lady. I just wish to know why you were crying." He continued, as he dragged a small stool over to the mirror, standing on it so that he could get a better view of the image in the glass.

"You......you can see me?" A gentle voice enquired, the face of the young woman appearing from around the corner of the frame.

Tyrion couldn't speak for a moment, as the woman moved to retake her place on the bed. If this was the lost princess (Y/n) then the old chronicles had been incorrect, for the woman before him was not just beautiful, she was in fact exquisitely breathtaking, her silky dark hair and captivating blue eyes were a match that only the gods themselves could have created.

"I can see you my lady, yes. What I am struggling to understand is why I can see you." Tyrion told her, as he balanced on his tiptoes in an attempt to get as close to the mirror as he could.

"I am afraid that I am unable to proffer you an answer ser. Of all those that have owned my prison before, not one of them has been able to see me." The woman told him, Tyrion's eyebrows furrowing in confusion at her comment.

"Prison my lady?"

"The mirror. It is my prison. I was given it as a gift for my naming day; but I was unaware of its true purpose." The woman began, as Tyrion listened eagerly.

"A powerful mage under the service of my father had taken an unwanted liking to me as soon as I came of age. He was a ruthless, vile man, and over 40 years my senior, and seemed to constantly be by my side like a looming shadow that followed me everywhere, despite my protests. He had asked for my father's consent to marry me on a number of occasions, despite the fact that he knew I was already promised to a prince from the neighbouring kingdom, a prince that I loved a great deal. My father always refused the mage's pleas, and eventually he seemed to accept the fact that I would never be his. But, on the occasion of my next nameday, just a short time before I was to be due to marry, the mage presented me with this mirror, saying that it was his way of apologising for all that he had done. I fell in love with his gift instantly, making sure that it was hung near my bed so that I could see it every day; but that was what the evil old man had planned. The day before my wedding, I was in my chambers enjoying a beautiful breeze that was blowing thorough my open window, the scent of blue winter roses filling my senses as I thought of the new and wonderful life that was awaiting me the next day. As I looked into the mirror, adjusting my hair, I suddenly felt ill. My mind became blurred, my heart pounding violently in my breast, my breath laboured, as if some invisible force had me in a vice like grip. I closed my eyes, pleading with the gods that this would be but a passing moment; but as I opened my eyes again, I found myself on the other side of the mirror, the mage glaring at me with a sinister smile pulling at his narrow lips. He told me that if he could not have me, then no man could. He said that I would be imprisoned in this mirror, in this room, in this day forever, never to know love or be loved again. To always have the happiest day of my life just out of reach. I watched as my father and my betrothed searched my room over and over again, unable to find any trace of me. I watched as my prince sat on my bed and wept, day after day, screaming at the gods to return me. Then everything went black and I saw or knew nothing else but this room for so long. The mirror has fallen into the hands of many over the years, I have seen many worlds and many people, but none have seen me. So, to find that you can see me, is, I must confess, as big a shock for me as it is for you." (Y/n) explained, Tyrion not daring to interrupt the princess's tale.

"Surely there must be a way out, a way to break the spell that the mage placed on you and the mirror?" Tyrion asked, as he felt a desperate urge to assist the long imprisoned princess.

(Y/n) shook her head forlornly, a single glistening tear rolling down her cheek.

"If there was a way, then the mage will have taken it to his grave. I know that he wrote many of his incantations in a large old book that he always kept with him; but I am sure that it is long gone, just like its master." (Y/n) lamented, as she brushed away the tear.

Tyrion suddenly smiled. The library of the Red Keep was the greatest in the Seven Kingdoms, and if an ancient book was to be found anywhere, it was surely there.

"My lady. If you wish it, I will try and help find a way to get you out of your prison, to bring you back to this world." Tyrion announced, hopping down from his stool.

"What makes you think that you can help me, Ser?" (Y/n) asked, placing her hand on her side of the glass.

"Because my lady, I know things. And please, my name is Tyrion. Now, if you will allow me a little more sleep, tomorrow I will begin my quest to free you." Tyrion told her, as he climbed back into bed, hoping that despite the evening's revelations, and his excitement, he would be able to rest.

"Thank you, Tyrion. Until the morrow." (Y/n) said softly, as the image in the mirror slowly turned back into the reflection of his room.

"Until the morrow, my dear lady."