Lancel Lannister Imagines

The Blackwater P2

There was a strange aura in the Keep. A tension that hung in the air. The battle was coming and everyone knew it. Lancel's armour had been laid out, his sword sharpened and ready for when he marched out to the walls. As time passed, his stomach seemed to twist itself into tighter and tighter knots. Lancel could not stop tapping his fingers or shifting he glanced down at his armour and felt his body quiver.

A tender tap came from his door,

"Come." He said his voice shaky,

the door opened and Lyanna crept inside, she had too prepared for the battle to come. She wore thick thigh-high boots, leather trousers, a dress with a leather corset tied tight, a small dagger at her hip, her hair braided and then pinned up around her head,

His eyes travelled up and down her form as she entered the room, "You look..." He tried to find words that would suit her. Finally, a weak smile appeared on his face. "You look beautiful."

"thank you, taking... Precautions" she said

"I can see that." Lancel approached Lyanna slowly, taking in every feature, every imperfection and every mole that dotted her face. He knew that every moment in her presence could be his last. "Precautions?" He asked, stopping before her. "You make it sound like you are going to fight on the wall as well."

she chuckled "no, but... If the worst should happen. I need to be ready... Tis a terrible fate for a woman in a siege. Far worse than death."

The blood drained from his face as he suddenly realized what Lyanna's meaning. He knew well what could happen to a woman under siege. Lancel's expression grew fierce with anger at the very thought. He clenched his jaw. "If anyone lays a hand on you. I will kill them myself."

"I know you would my love" she cooed

It made his heart skip a beat when she referred to him like that. His love. His hands went to her waist, feeling the leather corset. His fingers traced the tight leather, "I..." His voice cracked. He swallowed. He didn't even know where to start. Too many thoughts in his head. "I need..."

"yes?" She asked

"I need to hold you," he finally said. With one swift movement, he pulled her tight against him. His chest pressed against hers and his strong arms held her as close as he could. One hand grabbed the back of her neck, while the other held her waist. Lancel buried his face in her hair, taking in a deep breath. She somehow still smelled like winter roses.

she chuckled holding him tightly "Your armour is cold"

"And yours is warmer than mine." He ran his fingers up and down her back, marvelling at how it felt against the corset. Then he stopped, noticing the dagger at her hip. "Do you know how to use that thing?"

"... Hold the handle ... stick them with the pointy end?"

Lancel let out a soft chuckle. "Yes. Something like that."

His fingers lightly touched the cold metal of the dagger. He drew it slowly from its sheath and held it between his palms, admiring the blade. "This isn't enough," he said finally, his grip tightening on the handle. "To protect you."

"it's enough to buy me time. A slash to the face or leg gives me time to run..."

"And then what? Keep running until you cannot run any longer?" The image of her running away from an unknown enemy. Of her tiring and slowing down. The man grabbing her and took off her clothes... Lancel's grip on the dagger hilt became tighter and tighter until his knuckles were white. "I don't like the idea of you running away."

"I wouldn't need to run far... Then I have this." She said pulling a vile that she was keeping on a necklace "nightshade"

Lancel's face went pale at the sight of the vial. The implications of what it was. "Nightshade? You would poison yourself?" he whispered,