A/N- This imagine came to fruition whilst I was listening to 'Waiting for Love' by Avicii, and since it recently came out that he committed suicide, and it is Mental Health Awareness Month in the US at the moment it seemed fitting to remember him in my writing. He was an incredible musician and I think the music industry has lost a young talent that would have only kept growing in the future. If you are, or anyone you know is, suffering with a mental illness please seek out help, whether that is by talking to a friend or family member, going to the doctors, or seeing a therapist. You are all loved and appreciated here and I I want you to know that if you ever need someone to listen to your concerns my Direct Messaging is always open to you. I might continue this imagine at some point, let me know what you think. Thank you, L x.
"You cannot keep ignoring me," you father muttered, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder as he walked up behind you. He released a deep sigh when you didn't respond, moving around to sit in front of you and pulling your book from your hands. You shot him a glare, wishing he would just leave you alone and stop with whatever it was he was planning on doing. "Stannis is a good match for you Y/N, he will make a good husband," he told you softly.
"But I do not love him," you answered, attempting to stop the anger you were feeling come out in your voice. You had always had a habit of letting your temper get the better of you, but you were trying to convince your father that you would be mature enough to make your own decisions when it came to your upcoming marriage.
"You will grow to," he told you with a shrug, "Your mother did not love me when we were first betrothed," he added, giving you a soft smile.
"He had a wife before me, he has already loved someone," you muttered softly, shifting in your seat and holding out your hand for your book, "what makes you think he would love another just because he chooses to fill his bed again?" You got to your feet as soon as the heavy volume hit your palm, placing it back on its shelf and marching yourself out into the hallway.
"Come back, Y/N," you heard your father yell after you, his voice echoing down the halls and chasing you all the way back to your chambers.
You hadn't wanted to marry Stannis as soon as the suggestion had left your fathers 's mouth, but it seemed that the more you argued, the more determined it made him to prove that you would eventually grow to love your husband. If your brother had still been with you he would have rejected the idea immediately, he had always been far more protective of you than your father had, and sending you off to marry a man you had never met didn't seem like a safe idea.
Your eyes wandered around your chambers as you let the door click shut behind you, memorising every small detail you had grown up with. You had always loved the cool breeze that would come through the shutters and onto the bed. You wondered whether Stannis would allow you to rearrange his bedchambers when you arrived in his home, you had always preferred the cold. On a shelf on the far wall there were a few small items that you had collected; a small doll your brother had given you when you were first born; three thick books, which you had read through a thousand times; your first cross-stitch project with all of it's fraying edges; and a tiny smooth stone that you had found when you had been walking with your mother. It was a child's room, not the chambers of someone who was about to be wed, and you would miss it dearly, no matter where you were going.
A small knock drew your eyes back to the door and you moved slowly to pull it open, smiling softly at your mother's solemn expression. "Your father asked me to speak with you," she told you, moving past you and into the room. You pressed the door shut again before moving to sit at the foot of your bed, watching your mother pace until she reached the shelf that had held your attention for so long. She reached up, plucking the doll from her spot and smiling down at her. She let out a light chuckle, "Josephine," she muttered the dolls name under her breath before glancing back up at you.
"She was always my favourite." You attempted a smile as you spoke but in reality it came across as pained as you watched your mother place the doll back on the shelf, crossing the room to come over to you.
"Stannis' family has always been good to us Y/N, and from my interactions with him, he is kind, quiet and somewhat surly, but kind," she told you, sitting beside you and taking your hands in hers. "Everyone needs companionship, even you, and he is as good a man as any," she continued and you let out a sigh, attempting to hold back tears.
"I don't want companionship," you murmured, sniffling in an attempt to keep your voice even, "I want to be here with you."
"We will not be here forever," your mother hummed, allowing her fingers to play with yours as she spoke. "I need to know that if something were to happen you would have someone to look after you," she finished with a sigh.
"I don't need someone else to look after me," you grumbled, leaning your shoulder into hers and allowing her to wrap an arm around your body.
"I know, darling, but it would still make me feel better," she told you and you nodded a response.
*Time Skip*
"May I introduce my wife, Juliet, and my daughter, Y/N." You heard your mother greet the man but kept your eyes on the floor as your father smiled brightly at him, unaware of your betrothed's gaze on you as you refused to look at him. "Y/N, say hello to Lord Stannis," your father yelped, causing you to look up at the two men.
"It's lovely to meet you," you told him softly, with a smile that didn't quiet sit well enough on your face to be real.
"And you, My Lady," he grumbled back to you, giving you a tight lipped smile and locking his eyes on yours. He wasn't bad looking, but he was old and you had assumed that when you were to marry it would be to some young Lord, not an old man.
Dragonstone seemed somewhat overdramatic for your tastes, the raw feel of the throne room was almost unnerving, and the two stone dragons that guarded the keep had left you bewildered. Of course, you knew that this had been the home of the Targaryens, but now that it was a Baratheon keep you had assumed that all signs of the old house would have been destroyed. Instead they wore the decor with some sort of sick pride, something that had you on high alert from the moment you had stepped onto the land.
"My wife and I are tired from the journey, but perhaps you could show Y/N the rest of your home," your father suggested and your eyes shot to him in an instant. You had hardly said five words to the man in front of you and your father was happy to abandon you with him, in a place you didn't know, without a second thought.
"I would be happy to," he murmured, glancing at you once again and causing you to look at him with a short nod.
"Perfect," your father exclaimed happily, wrapping your mother's arm through his own as he took her away from you and down the hallway towards their chambers. As they went, your mother kept steeling glances back at you, your eyes locking with hers each time, begging for her to return to you.
"Where would you like to begin?" Your eyes flew back to him as he spoke and you gave him a small shrug.
"You know this place better than anyone, you ought to chose where we start," you told him, your voice soft but unamused.
Stannis let out a chuckle, it was a rare sound from what you had heard. "You don't like me," he laughed, beginning down the hall in the opposite direction of your parents, causing you to hurry after him. "Your father told me that you were very excited to come here, but it seems he was mistaken."
"It's nothing personal, My Lord, I was not looking to marry anyone yet," you breathed, finally falling into step with him, "but my father is not one for details."
"Well, I do believe that there is no reason for me to show you around Dragonstone if you do not intend to stay." Stannis gestured at a door and you pushed through it to see the throne room, again.
"I don't think I have a choice in that anymore," you mumbled back to him, "it seems that I will be here, now, until one of us dies," you told him, glancing back to him for a second before marching towards the throne with him on your heel.
"Very well," he started, coming to a halt, as you did, at the foot of the steps that led to the ugly chair. "As I am sure you already know, this area was owned by the Targaryens before my brother's war with them."
"They certainly had a penchant for the dramatic," you told him, your eyes running over the sight in front of you with a frown.
"You don't like it?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he stared at you.
You shook your head, "no, but as you will learn, there is very little that I like."
Stannis chuckled again, and you realised with a drop in your stomach that you quite enjoyed the sound. "Perhaps the war rooms would be more to your tastes?" he suggested, gesturing for you to follow him through a doorway and into a room that hosted one of the most beautiful views you had ever seen. You released a barely audible gasp as you moved forward, looking down over the edge at the water and jagged rocks beneath you. "It's incredible," you muttered softly, disbelief clear in you as you continued to stare.
"You should come away from the edge, it would not look good for my betrothed to have fallen to her death before her wedding day," he told you with a small laugh and you nodded as you backed away from the edge, leaning back against the large wooden map which sat in the centre of the room.
*Time Skip*
Your mother and father left Dragonstone the day after you were married to Stannis, and though you no longer disliked the man, you were still not in love with him. You had hoped that when he had taken you in his bed for the first time it would all click into place and you would be head over heels in love with him, but no such luck.
"Morning," he grumbled at you, rolling from the bed as you pulled the sheets closer around your body. He was not one to stick around for long after he had greeted you of a morning, but today seemed different as he padded around the room, fiddling with the objects on the surfaces he encountered. "Who's this?" he asked, lifting up your little doll which you had housed between two sets of books, hoping to keep her hidden from his eyes. He made her little arms move as he showed her to you, as if she were waving at you.
"My brother got it for me, it's nothing," you lied, shifting on the bed to sit up and watch him.
"It's not nothing, or you wouldn't have brought it with you," he told you softly, settling her back on the shelf, this time more visible to the room in her perch.
"He had it made for me when I was born," you answered him, shrugging with the truth, though it was much more serious than you wanted to tell him.
"(Brother's name)?" he asked you softly, sitting himself lightly on your side of the bed, by your feet. "I was sad to hear of his passing," he told you, his hand resting on your knee beneath the sheet and giving it a quick squeeze.
"You've done your research," you told him, laughing through the lump in your throat and raising your eyebrows at him.
"No, I met him in King's Landing, he was a good man, a good friend." Your face softened slightly as you looked at him, and you tilted your head to the side.
"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but he never mentioned you," you muttered, your hand resting on top of his where it sat on your leg.
"He didn't enjoy his time in King's Landing, much preferred the quiet of home, and he missed you," he told you softly, "he probably didn't like talking about it."
"I miss him," you sniffed, bringing your hand to swipe at the tears that dared fall from your eyes.
"He really did care about you, never stopped talking about how fantastic his little sister was," he continued with a smile, letting out a small bubble of laughter, "whenever you wrote him he would spend the afternoon in a daze, reading it again and again."
You rolled your eyes at that, "he was a sentimental fool at times," you chuckled and he nodded his agreement.
"I can't say I don't understand why, you are something to be marvelled at." You let out a surprised laugh at his words, giving his hand a small squeeze as he smiled at you.
I might be a little quiet this weekend, but be aware that I am not abandoning you, I am going camping with my Dad and two little cousins and will have no internet for a while. I should be back to writing by Monday, but I cannot confirm that yet.
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