Game of Thrones Imagines Book Two

Do as you are told - Part 1 - Petyr x Reader

Request for TrashMonarch, but also for Elizabethgaunt. Hope you enjoy

Petyr watched as man after man danced with his sister. He was well aware as to why the men were fighting to be the next in line to take her hand. Yet he couldn't pretend that he liked it.

The Master of Coin hadn't seen his younger sister for many years. The younger mockingbird choosing to stay in the fingers. Yet when he had finally persuaded her to join him in Kings Landing, so that he could keep his eye on her, and ensure that his rivals would not be able to use her against him. The whoremonger had been shocked to see what actually turned up on his doorstep. Petyr finding it, a most unexpected delight.

When he had last seen her, she had been little more than an awkward child. A child that was many name days from being considered a woman. Yet, what arrived in Kings Landing was an exquisite creature, that possessed a beauty that was beyond words. Or at least beyond any word that Petyr knew of. And since her arrival, Petyr was sure that every male in the capital had been vying for his sister's attention. The Master of Coin struggling to be able to find a few quiet moments with his sister, before a would be suitor, or lover, showed his face. A sister, that to Petyr was now more a stranger, than kin.

He had told himself time and time again that she was of the same flesh. That she was of the same blood. Yet, in the darkest hours of the night, his thoughts would always drift to her. To her body. To her face, contorted by the throws of ecstasy. Many was the night that he had taken his cock in his hand and pleasured himself. His hand being his sister's warm, wet womanhood, gripping him tightly as he sheathed himself inside her. His ears hearing her moans and groans accompanying his own, until he came, shouting out her name.

Petyr was sure that everything she did, she did to tease him. To show him that he couldn't have what he desired more than even wealth and power. Every time she smiled at him. Every time that he would catch a glimpse of her in anything but her full gown. Any time that she would get close to someone. Or laughed at another man's jokes. It was as if she was taunting him. And as the latest man to ask her to dance was the Lannister imp, he knew that he could take it no more. That sister or not, he would no longer be denied his desires. He would not sit idly by and let some unworthy man have what should be his. Especially not the imp.

Yet what was he to do. He couldn't just drag her from Tyrion's grasp, or take her away from the celebrations. Questions would be asked. Comments made. And despite the fact that Tywin had no real love for his youngest son, Tyrion was still a Lannister, and the old lion might not take kindly to him taking (Y/n) from Tyrion's arms. So, he would have to watch. To wait. To smile. And pretend that everything was alright.

"Thank you, my lord." (Y/n) said breathlessly, as Tyrion brought her back to her brother. Petyr hiding his snarl behind the lip of his glass.

"The pleasure was all mine, my lady. I assure you. Perhaps, you will do me the honour of another dance, soon." Tyrion hummed softly. The Master of Coin forcing himself to stay in his seat, as the imp took his sister's hand, and kissed it. Petyr using every ounce of self-control that he had, to stop himself from tearing (Y/n)'s hand from the grubby clutches of the drinking, whoring, half man. The whoremonger more aware than most, about what Tyrion would get up to when he would frequent one of his brothels with his pet sellsword. And no man that frequented one of his establishments, was ever going to be allowed to have anything to do with his sister.

"Perhaps. But I think that my sister should rest for a while. It has already been a long evening for her." Petyr interrupted. Indicating for (Y/n) to take a seat next to him at the table. (Y/n) nodding respectfully to the little lord, before taking a seat. Tyrion smiling, yet not failing to see the look in the Master of Coin's eyes. It was a look of disdain that he was used to, yet there was something else behind it. Something that if looks could kill, the little lord was sure that he would now be on the floor, lifeless.

"Of course. Until later." Tyrion replied. Bowing respectfully, before leaving the two siblings alone.

"Petyr. I think that was very rude of you. Lord Tyrion was being perfectly gentlemanly. Perfectly respectful. And I have no need to rest. This is a celebration, and if I am to find a suitor while I am here, this is a better place than any, to start. And I assure you, brother, that after all these years alone, I am more than capable of looking after myself. I mean, we have to face facts, Petyr, it isn't as if you really care about what happens to me. You haven't cared all these years, so why start now? And if you intend, for some reason, to ruin things for me, then I believe that I will leave. I see little reason to stay." (Y/n) hissed, as she glared at her brother. The younger mockingbird rising to her feet.

"You will sit. You will not embarrass me, (Y/n)." Petyr growled under his breath, as he grabbed at his sister's arm, and pulled her back into her seat. The Master of Coin unable to stop himself from watching her bosom heave. Her beautiful, rounded breasts heated with a flush of anger, rising and falling as she scowled at him.

"I will sit? Not embarrass you? What do you call what you have just done to me in front of Lord Tyrion? What you have been doing all evening to every man that has asked me to dance? I will not sit. I will not stay. I am not a lap dog, here to follow you around. I will do as I wish. Go where I wish. And now I wish to leave. The king was gracious enough to say that I could remain here in the Keep. He insisted that the castle is a much better place for a lady such as myself to stay, than in one of your..........establishments. And I happen to agree. So, if you will excuse me." (Y/n) snarled, pulling her arm from her brother's grasp and getting to her feet. The mass of guests watching as the lady Baelish made her way through the crowd. The doors opening and letting the mockingbird make her way out into the darkness of the rest of the Keep. Leaving Petyr to try and pretend that nothing had happened. The whoremonger smiling uncomfortably as people seemed to whisper behind their hands.

Petyr knew that (Y/n) did not appreciate the rooms above the brothel that he had provided her. That she hated being surrounded by the girls and their clients. Yet when she had had the opportunity to speak with the king himself. When he had told her that she could remain in the Red Keep, he was not sure. But Petyr could understand why Robert had done it. From the little he had been able to learn of (Y/n) since her arrival in the capital, he had realised that she could be quite the manipulator. A manipulator that could make even himself, look like a rank amateur. And the fact that she was incredibly beautiful, obviously didn't work against her.

Yet sister or not. Beautiful or not. Petyr would not be spoken to like that. He would not be embarrassed in front of all the amassed dignitaries, that he believed that he was far superior to. So, he would go and have it out with her. He would find her in her rooms, and demand that she return to the celebration. Demand that she do as she was told. Make her do as she was told.