Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Sandor Clegane X Targaryen!Reader - Everything I Wanted

A/N - This imagine is based on the song ' Everything I Wanted' by Billie Eilish. It has mentions of suicide and depressive episodes, if this is likely to have a negative effect on you, please do not read this chapter. 

King's Landing truly was impressive from up here. The tallest tower of the Red Keep, over looking the whole city. It was a view that took your breath away. You knew it well by now, knew every visible roof top from your perch.

You wished you could resent this city. Wished you could hate it for all it had brought into your life. But who could hate a place when it looked so beautiful in the fading daylight? When the windows glinted with the sun, and the walls became painted in reds, and yellows, and gold? 

Somehow, you knew that the city was all that had kept you alive for so long. Each time you approached the ledge, you would glance down at it, and guilt would pierce you. In a world so full of poverty and death, how could you, with your perfect way of living, want to leave it? And each time, you would just sit and watch the world go by. Waiting for the sun to disappear from the sky before going back inside.

When you would return to your chambers, you would wish you hadn't allowed the city to persuade you away from the ledge. You would lay in your bed and dream of the fall. The wind pressing into your chest, stopping your breathing long before you hit the street below you. It wouldn't be a beautiful way to go. It would be screaming, and blood, and pain. It would be exactly what you wanted.

This evening, you had come back to your perch, hands braced on the edges of the window frame, holding you in place. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as a breeze ran past you. In that moment, you shuffled a half-step forward, allowing your toes to hang over the edge of the ledge. It should be easy, you thought silently. Just one more step and it would be over.

But it was never that easy, and you had yelped in horror when you felt a hand grip your arm, holding you in place. Your eyes flew open, seeing the city in front of you once more, and suddenly you were terrified, as you gulped in breath after breath of cool air.

"Come inside, Your Grace," Sandor started, his grip tightening ever so slightly as you complied, allowing him to pull you back to safety. You were silent for a moment, your eyes staring at nothing and everything at the same time. Gods, you wanted to be sick. "You shouldn't be up here," Sandor uttered, breaking the silence and drawing your attention to him for a moment. 

You looked ill. Lost and scared, and utterly broken. And for a moment, Sandor longed to hold you to him. To comfort you properly. But, as you nodded your understanding, the moment disappeared and what returned was fear.

"Do you come up here often?" he murmured, watching as your eyes darted back to the ground, unable to focus on him for much longer.

"No," you started, voice cracking as the words escaped you. There was a moment of silence, and then you cleared your throat, and you were speaking again. "Yes," you corrected yourself, listening to the sounds of him shifting on the spot, unsure of himself.

"Why?"

This time, the words wouldn't allow themselves to bubble to the surface, and you gave a small shrug. But Sandor remained silent too, and the anxiety pulled at you, forcing you to speak. "I don't want to be here," you started, so quiet that if it weren't for the distance between yourself and the city, you would never have been heard.

"In King's Landing?" he asked, watching as you lifted your head to look at him. Your eyes were wet with tears, rimmed with red. 

You licked your lips slightly, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears. "I don't want to be anywhere anymore." Sandor looked a little taken aback by your comment, despite the scene he had happened upon just moments before. For a second, you considered giving him an order; telling him that he was to forget everything he had seen in this tower. But you knew you couldn't. You knew he wouldn't listen, anyway. "I'm a terrible Queen, Sandor. I wasn't made for this. I never wanted this."

"I think you're doing well, all things considered," he uttered back, face set in a concerned frown as he watched you carefully.

"They all think I'm weak," you told him softly. "The entire small council know it's true," you added, shaking your head. "But they say it like I didn't know that already. Like I chose to be here. Like I wasn't forced into this position because of a man I never even met." 

Sandor paused for a moment, watching as you balled up your hands, pressing them into your eyes in an attempt to stem your crying. "They don't deserve you," he murmured, shifting forward and taking your hands in his, pulling them away from your face. 

"No," you uttered your agreement. "They deserved my sister, but she barely made it a week on the Iron Throne before-"

"If I could change the way that you see yourself, you wouldn't wonder why you're here," he interrupted you, watching as your mouth opened and closed, lost for words. "I'm sorry," he added softly, finally releasing your hands from his and taking a step away.

You watched him for a moment, the way he paced along the wall. He couldn't leave you alone, not now that he knew of your pain, but he could barely stand being in the room now that he had spilt his thoughts into it.

"How do you see me?" you started, watching as he paused mid-step, glancing in your direction. 

Sandor swallowed, gulping back the fear that had grown in him. "You are an incredible Queen," he started softly, "better than anyone else I've seen sitting on that hunk of metal." He stopped, watching as you nodded slightly. "You're smart, and strong, and kind. And if that doesn't make you worthy of a crown, I don't know what else could."

You let out a snort of laughter, shaking your head. "You are too easy to please," you muttered, watching as Sandor raised an eyebrow at you.

"And you're too hard on yourself." For a moment, you both stood still, staring at one another. "You've been more beneficial for the Seven Kingdoms in the last month than the Baratheon lot were in their entire reign." 

"Thank you, Sandor," you finally murmured, reaching out and taking his hand in yours for a moment, smiling up at him.

"If you ever feel this way again, please tell me."

You nodded slightly. "I promise."

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