Game of Thrones: Short stories.

In the mirror - Part 5 - Tyrion x Reader

The plans for the wedding between Tyrion and (Y/n) had proceeded well, with even Tywin appearing to approve of the match between his son and the mystery lady that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Despite how many times Tywin and Jaime had asked Tyrion about the origins of his blushing bride to be, Tyrion had always managed to change the subject, merely stating that (Y/n) was a princess from one of the oldest families of a land far beyond Westeros, and that she was the last of her line.

Not that the two other men really seemed to care about Tyrion's vagueness, or who and where (Y/n) was really from, the older Lannister men appearing to have fallen just as much under the princess's spell as Tyrion had. And Tywin had to admit that he liked the idea that his youngest son had finally found a woman that was not going to be an embarrassment to the Lannister name.

"What's wrong (Y/n)? You appear unhappy. Do you no longer wish to marry me?" Tyrion asked, as he came to sit by her side, taking her by the hand as he looked up into her eyes.

Tyrion was growing concerned. For days (Y/n) had looked as though a great cloud had been hanging over her head. A gloom that had taken away her usual happy demeanour.

"Of course I still want to marry you, and I have never been happier. Its........its just that I still have a nagging doubt in the back of my mind. A little voice that is telling me that something is going to happen on the day of our wedding. I don't know, it all seems to have been too easy." (Y/n) confessed, the princess furrowing her brows as Tyrion scoffed at her comment.

"Easy? What we went through was not easy, my love. In the name of the gods, (Y/n). You died. I thought that I had lost you forever, just like I lost my mother." Tyrion said, as he reached up his hand and gently grasped the charm of his mother's necklace, that (Y/n) now proudly wore around her neck.

"I thought that I had lost you too, but you don't know the mage like I did. His kind of evil is strong enough to even break the barrier between this world and the next. Believe me, if anyone can find a way to ruin our day, it will be him." (Y/n) lamented, as she placed her head on Tyrion's shoulder, the little lion brushing his fingers through her hair as he tried his best to reassure her.

"Believe me my love, when I say that I won't let anyone, or anything spoil our wedding day. Not even the gods themselves will keep us apart." Tyrion promised, smiling as he felt (Y/n)'s body relax against his. The pair enjoying a brief moment of quiet, before they once again had to leave their room and re-join the madness of the world outside.

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The day of the wedding had arrived. The Great Sept was filled to capacity with all the great and good of the Seven Kingdoms, each one waiting to see the mysterious beauty that was to marry the little lion.

All the guests had heard a different story, each outlandish story nowhere near as unbelievable as the truth; but each guest was expecting their own version of the woman, and none could wait to see what the truth could actually be.

The huge building was guarded by every bannerman that Tyrion could persuade his father to give him, in an attempt to assure (Y/n) that he would not let anything spoil the day that she had waited so long for; and now as he stood nervously before the High Septon, he could only pray to any god that was listening, that all his efforts would not go to waste.

Suddenly a hush fell across the crowd as the huge doors to the great building opened to reveal a lone woman, her form seeming to shimmer in the afternoon light as she smiled softly at the man, that along with every other living creature in the Sept had turned to face her.