This was a request from over at my Tumblr account (@fallatyour feet)
Word count: 800 Yes, that's right.
Warnings: It's a little bit of angst for both Tyrion and the reader, but it's super soft at the end. Talk of nightmares.
A/N: So, um, I knocked this out in a few hours, which believe it or not, is some kind of record for me. So hopefully, it stacks up.
Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.
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It was such a timid knock upon the door of Tyrion's chamber. If he was sleeping, he never would have heard it. The night had been a restless one. With the Northern Queen arriving in the capital tomorrow, there had been much to organise, his mind was a constant whirlwind of thoughts and preparations, leaving sleep hard to come by. He doubted if he'd collected more than four hours during the course of the week. And the fact that she was arriving to attend his very own nuptials, in just a few days, did not make sleep any easier. He was exhausted, but he wasn't sleeping, so he might as well get up to see who it was. With a small sigh, he ran his hands across his face and made his way to the door, tying his robe around him in the process, and asked, "Who is it?"
Expecting to hear his guard answer, he was surprised and somewhat alarmed to hear your voice. Even through the door, without seeing your face, he could tell you were upset, "It's Y/N, can I come in?"
Tyrion reached the door in his very next breath, grabbing the latch, he flung it open, "What is it? What's wrong, Y/N?" Your shiny cheeks and red watery eyes, weighed him down like lead, he didn't like seeing you this way. Placing a gentle hand to your back, he ushered you inside, giving his guard a small nod, before closing the door behind you. Leading you to the edge of his bed, he sat you down and poured you some wine. Passing it to you, he noticed your hands shaking, your silence and reluctance to speak doing nothing to ease his concern. "Y/N, tell me, what's wrong? Are you hurt... has somebody hurt you?"
Shaking your head, you took a sip of wine, and he felt just a breath of relief; you weren't hurt or injured. You inhaled sharply, it was ragged and inadequate, your voice struggling to stay even, "I'm sorry Tyrion... It's silly and childish, but I... I didn't want to be alone."
Sitting down beside you, he reached across to move your tangled hair behind your ear; he wanted to see your beautiful face. Placing a gentle hand to your knee, he used his other to guide your chin towards him, and spoke softly, "Sorry? Believe me, I've never been one to complain about beautiful women knocking on my door in the middle of the night." You indulged him with an amused smile, and so he used the moment to ask again, "Will you tell me what has you so upset?" Seeing your hesitation, he angled his body towards you and put aside your wine, taking your hands in his, "In a few days I will be your husband... I want you to feel comfortable... to be able to tell me anything."
Tyrion waited patiently; he could see you were going to speak. And after a minute of contemplation, your breathing settled, your voice was much steadier now, "I told you, it's silly... I can barely even remember what happened. It was only a nightmare... I just remember waking up screaming and terrified." Looking to your knees, you wavered, as if you were embarrassed to continue. But giving your hands a gentle squeeze was enough encouragement for you to go on, "I... I just... can I stay here, with you?" Without realising, Tyrion shuffled a little in his spot, and your expression dropped; you thought he didn't want you to stay. You couldn't have been more wrong. Shaking your head, you apologised, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have asked. I... I should go."
You moved to stand, but Tyrion kept your hands tight within his, "Don't leave... I want you to stay." Reaching across, he grabbed his pillow, "You sleep on the bed... And I'll sleep on-"
Stopping him with a hand to his forearm, you said, "No Tyrion... I want you to hold me... to sleep beside me."
For once, Tyrion was quite speechless, only capable of three short words, "Are you sure?"
With a single nod of your head, you answered, "I am." You were nervous, he could see that, and yet, your eyes told him this was something you wanted... needed even. You. You sought the comfort of his embrace. Tyrion couldn't begin to understand the feeling of joy and contentment it brought him. It radiated like a wave from his very core, spilling from every surface. And as he laid down and took you in his arms, he was blissfully unaware that in just a few glorious minutes he would drift into the most peaceful and contented sleep of his life. But a sleep that would become a permanent fixture of his life, from the moment he married you.
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