I don't know whether to give you a part 3 to this imagine, but I hope that you all enjoy this second part 😄

Petyr smiled to himself as he watched Cersei storm off, her current attempt to berate her oldest child thwarted once again by the presence of the Master of Coin.

Since that moment in the garden when he had watched Cersei slap (Y/n). Since the moment (Y/n) had taken him to her chambers and cared for his bloody hand, Petyr had made it his business to impede the Queen every time she tried to treat her daughter with anything less than the respect that the beauteous doe deserved.

"It would appear that once again you are my knight in shining armour, my lord." (Y/n) chuckled, as she turned to face Petyr.

If it was possible, Petyr had found that he was doting more and more on (Y/n), his lustful obsession now even disturbing his sleep. And despite the obvious irritation of not only her uncle, but also Bronn and Sandor, at his constant presence, Petyr had found himself spending every minute that he could possibly spare with the young Baratheon, trying his best to protect the woman he loved from as much harm as possible.

"Not as though I don't appreciate your efforts at annoying my mother, my lord. But I still find I need to ask why you are doing it? Befriending me will get you no closer to the throne. My mother would rather kill me than let me become queen. I have no powerful friends in court. Even as the oldest child of the king, I have nothing. I own no gold. I have no secrets that you can use against others. So why are you doing this, why are you protecting me?" (Y/n) asked, as she stood before the lord.

Petyr couldn't blame her for asking the questions. Couldn't blame her for asking about his motives. Everyone knew of his reputation, and (Y/n) was clever enough to be suspicious. But for the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time in his entire life, Petyr had no ulterior motives. No desire to use (Y/n), no desire to ask anything in return. This time, what he was doing was out of love.

"Can I simply not be doing this because I care for you, my lady? Because I hate seeing you being hurt?" Petyr asked, as he stepped forward, reaching up his hand and gently cupping the younger woman's cheek.

"You deserve nothing but the best, (Y/n). Nothing less than everything I can give you." Petyr continued, an exquisite sensation taking over his body as (Y/n) moved closer. Her body pressed firmly against his.

"You think that I deserve the best? A woman that has spent her entire life stealing from her own family because her mother refuses to give her little more than what any of the servants have. A child that is so despised that the only friends she has are the other outcasts that call the Red Keep home. If it wasn't for the protection of my Uncle Tyrion, my mother would happily have made me disappear a long time ago. How can you care for someone like that, how can you care for me?" (Y/n) sincerely enquired as she looked up into Petyr's dark eyes.

"That is exactly why I care for you, my lady. Since you were a young child you have learned to live by your wits. You are the shadow that no one truly sees. You are quick and cunning enough to steal the best food and wine from under the ever watchful of the servants and your family. You avoid the bannermen and Kingsguards better than anyone I have ever seen, and I know that you know everything that goes on here. But it is not just the fact that I see in you a kindred spirit, (Y/n). It is because, that despite everything that you endure, you hold yourself with more dignity than your mother could ever dream of having. And even though you may be punished for it later, you are always the first to jump to the defence of those that may need help." Petyr replied, the Master of Coin surprising even himself at his own genuineness.

"Do you really mean that Petyr?" (Y/n) asked. Her hand reaching up as she gently combed her fingers through his hair.

"For the first time in my life, I mean every word I say." Petyr replied, as he learnt down slightly, his lips ghosting over (Y/n)'s. His arms wrapping tightly around her form.

"(Y/n)!" A voice called out. The sound of her uncle's voice causing (Y/n) and Petyr to move quickly away from one another.

"Uncle Tyrion.......I er........... Is everything alright?" (Y/n) asked quietly, doing her best to avoid the angry look of the little man.

"I believe that I am the one that should be asking you that. I was told that your mother attacked you again." Tyrion said, pushing himself between his niece and the whoremonger.

"I am fine, uncle. Thanks to Lord Baelish." (Y/n) told him, as Tyrion took her hand.

"You have my thanks, Lord Baelish. But I think that I can take care of my niece now." Tyrion said, nodding respectfully to Petyr before pulling a reluctant (Y/n) from the room.

"How many times do I need to tell you to stay away from him, (Y/n)? Lord Baelish cannot be trusted, especially with you. You know of his reputation; you know what he is." Tyrion began as the pair made their way back to (Y/n)'s chambers. He had never been angry at (Y/n) before, he had never raised his voice to her before, but seeing his beloved niece in Baelish's arms had filled him with more concern for her wellbeing than he had ever previously felt.

"You talk about Lord Baelish like that? I love you more than anything, uncle. I love Bronn and Sandor too, and I know that without the three of you watching over me, I would probably have been dead a long time ago. But you and the others are the first to enjoy the hospitality of any number of Petyr's brothels. The first to buy the best wine from his cellars, and the first to take advantage of the whores that ply their wares there. I am not a fool; I know what and who Petyr Baelish is. But I cannot afford to turn down a friend, even if that friend happens to be of dubious character. One day my father will die, and I fear what may befall me despite your ever watchful eye. Maybe, just maybe, I need an ally like him." (Y/n) declared, storming off and leaving Tyrion to ponder what may happen next. The little lion knowing that (Y/n) was right.

                                                       >>--------------------------------<<

The streets of Kings Landing were empty as the rain poured down from the heavens. The city was dark, lit only sporadically by the crack of lightning, and Petyr sat before the window in his rooms, staring out onto the elements that seemed to have taken control over the capital.

Since Tyrion had found he and (Y/n) nearly kissing, the little man had seemed to make it his business to keep the two as far apart as humanly possible, and Petyr was slowly losing his senses. Normally a busy house would keep his mind from things, but the weather seemed to be keeping even his best patrons away, which meant that he had all the time in the world to contemplate what life would be like if he couldn't be close to (Y/n).

Petyr shakily stood up from his seat, and slowly made his way through the room, dropping himself onto his bed as the wine in his glass spilled all over the floor. Normally he would not allow himself to be in this condition, he preferred to be in control, preferred to have a clear and alert mind, but at this moment he needed to relax, he needed to forget.

                                                        >>-------------------------------<<

Bare feet splashed in the puddles that had formed in the holes in the ill kept quiet alleyways. She wasn't really sure where she was going, but she just hoped that one, if not all of the men she wanted to find would be in one of the establishments on the Street of Silk.

Her thin nightgown, and hooded cape were drenched, and the once loose material now clung to her like a second skin. If she had had time, she would have dressed in something more suitable, but the attack had come so quickly, and unexpectedly, that she had ran from the Red Keep in only what she had on.

She could no longer tell the difference between the tears that were flowing down her cheeks, and the rain. And she knew that she should feel cold, but fear was pushing her on, and all she could do now was hope that she could find her uncle before she was attacked again, this time by one of the nefarious characters that called Kings Landing home.

                                                             >>------------------------------<<

The few patrons and the bored whores who found themselves without customers, all looked up as the ingress of the brothel flew open. A lone figure standing in the doorway lit from behind as lightning struck the ground outside.

It was obvious to all that the stranger was a woman, but none present could claim to have ever seen the bedraggled creature before. And the fact that the obviously distressed woman was dressed only in enough to barely cover her, had everyone wondering what could possibly be going on.

"Can I help ya girl?" One of the older whores asked, as she rose to her feet and made her way over to where the young woman was still standing.

"Lord........lord Lannister. Bronn.......Ser.......Ser Clegane. Are they here?" (Y/n) asked hesitantly, as she pulled the soaked clothes tighter around her body.

"I need to see them. Any of them." (Y/n) continued, the sudden feel of the cold making her shake uncontrollably.

"No. Fraid not. What happened child?" The older woman asked, cautiously taking (Y/n)'s hand and leading her further into the brothel so that she could sit her down.

"I.........I can't. Is, is Lord Baelish here? Can I see Petyr? Please." (Y/n) enquired, hoping that if no one else, at least Petyr must be present in his own establishment.

"(Y/n)?" A voice from above called out. Petyr finding himself suddenly more sober than he had ever felt before.

"Petyr." (Y/n) cried, as Petyr rushed down the stairs and pulled her into his arms.

"What happened? Why are you here?" Petyr continued, as he helped the young doe up to his room and away from the prying eyes of all those present.

"I needed Uncle Tyrion. I........I was." (Y/n) began. The young woman trying to avoid Petyr's stare as he removed the hood from her head to reveal some of the damage that had been done.

"Who did this?" Petyr growled, as he took (Y/n)'s face in his hands, his fingers softly brushing over the bruises and cuts that littered her face.

"Did your mother do this?" Petyr asked, as he removed her soaked cloak, and saw the bruises that covered her shoulders and arms.

"In a round about way, but this time she didn't want to get her hands dirty. I had an argument with Joffrey, and I.........well I called him some things that I shouldn't, and mother wasn't happy with just a slap. I was making my way back to my chambers when Trant came from nowhere and grabbed me. I know it was him, I could smell him. He hit me; I don't know how many times. And then he tried to touch me, he tried to...........but I got away, and I ran, I ran here hoping that uncle Tyrion would be here." (Y/n) tried to explain, as Petyr knelt down before her, hating himself for not being there to stop what had happened.

"I can't go back there, Petyr. I can't. But I have nowhere else to go, the Red Keep is the only home I have ever known. I thought about going to Dragonstone to ask Uncle Stannis for help, or even to Renly at Storm's End, but I......... I don't know what to do. I don't..........." (Y/n) cried as she dropped her head into her hands.

If Petyr wasn't horrified enough at the sight of his injured young doe, the idea of her leaving Kings Landing was more than he could take.

"You can stay with me. No one will expect you to be here, and no one will ever find out. I know that it is not a place for a lady like you, but it is the best place for me to protect you. I can't lose you (Y/n). I........I love you." Petyr told (Y/n), as he carefully raised her head up so that he could look into her beautiful tear soaked eyes.

"You.......you love me? Really?" (Y/n) asked in disbelief, not quite sure whether to believe this sudden declaration of love. But as she looked into Petyr's eyes, (Y/n) couldn't argue with the sincerity that lay behind his dark orbs.

"I love you too, Petyr. I never want to leave you." (Y/n) told him, as Petyr pulled her into his arms, and carried her over to his bed.