Tyrion Lannister POV
His legs were sore and chafed with each step that the horse took as he rode into the city. And despite being warned about it by his brother, the foul stench of this place still took him by surprise.
If he closed his eyes, then could easily imagine himself being back in the sewers of Casterly Rock, when he was six and ten and his father had placed him in charge of all the sewers and cisterns in that castle as his coming-of-age gift.
He had initially resented that task, but eventually, he had learned some valuable lessons from his duties, and shit had never flown smoother into the sea.
As he ventured deeper into the city, he made an effort to take in his surroundings, aiming to divert his attention from the agony in his leg and the ghastly stench.
Kings Landing was not Lannisport. That much has become clear to him. The streets were congested and dirty. Beggers littered the streets and begged him for alms as he passed by. Children of various ages played around in the dirty streets without any adult supervision.
He kept his gold purse close to him, wary of any cutpurses out in the streets. He didn't have to deal with cutpurses back in Lannisport. People knew better than to try and steal from a Lannister of the Casterly Rock. But here, he had no doubt that some fool would definitely try to swipe his purse.
Better to be wary and cautious.
He subtly glanced back at his two guards and wondered if they were even good enough to protect him from a cutpurse.
'Two useless guards to protect the heir apparent of Casterly Rock. I would find that hilarious that I my entire life was not already a joke.' He thought.
Half an hour of painful riding, and they finally reached the Red Keep where he was thankfully greeted by his own brother.
"Jaime. It's been too long." He said with a warm smile as he embraced his brother who hugged him back with equal enthusiasm and assisted him in dismounting from his horse.
"Your presence is a welcome surprise, little brother. Father didn't sent any letter informing me of your arrival." Jaime said and then frowned as he winced upon taking a step on solid ground after hours of journey. "Are you alright?"
"Just as well as I am after every long journey. You know how it is. My short and stubby legs do not mesh very well with a horse saddle." He said with a forced smile as he slowly started walking toward the Red Keep while a stable boy took his horse away. "A warm bath, some wine, and the company of a beautiful woman. And I'll be as good as ever."
"I'm sure you'll be. Come, I've arranged some quarters for you." Jaime said but he shook his head.
"No. I need to check up on our dear sister and Joffrey before that. And send a letter informing father about their condition." He said.
"Father sent you to check up on Cersei and Joff?" Jaime asked and he nodded.
"Among other things. When I set out from Casterly Rock, I did so with the knowledge that the Crown Prince was near death's doorsteps." He smiled sardonically. "A Tavern Keeper a day's journey from here informed me that Joff has been healed by 'Prince' Stephen Baratheon's blessings. You can imagine how such news would perturb father."
"I'd normally say that nothing fazes father. However, you've been living with him longer than I have," Jaime replied as they made their way into the passageways of the Red Keep. "So...where to first?"
"To Joffrey, and then our lovely sister. I'm curious to see if she still hates me for being a dwarf as she did a decade ago."
Jaime paused at that and gave him a serious look. "I would advice not to jest too much in her presence, brother. Her son's near death experience has left her… fragile."
He glanced at his brother in surprise but Jaime didn't reveal any more than that and continued walking.
—
"Get Out! Get Out, You Little Monster!" Cersei shouted at him and he dodged a candleholder by a hair's breadth before he scurried out of the room.
Cersei continued to hurl curses at him from inside the room as he shut the door and looked up at Jaime, who shot him a 'I warned you' expression.
"I can see that being a queen hasn't made our beloved sister any more accepting of dwarves," he quipped lightly, but ceased when he noticed the concerned expression on Jaime's face as he glanced towards the room he had just exited. "Is everything okay, Jaime?" he inquired.
Jaime snapped out of his daze and flashed hima smile that was devoid of its typical warmth. "Of course. Let's get you warm bath and wine, and I'll see if I can arrange a comely maiden for you."
"A maiden? I'd rather have a whore. They're much better at lying to me about how dashing I am," he retorted as he trailed behind Jaime. "Actually, there was this one occasion when a whore hailed me as the Lion of Casterly Rock. Can you imagine father's expression if he ever learned of it?"
"Imagining our father getting angry isn't very difficult," Jaime responded, though he still appeared preoccupied by Cersei's outburst. Then, he turned to face him. "Will you be attending the feast tonight, little brother?"
"A feast? What's the special occasion?" He asked.
"To celebrate Joffrey's recovery." Jaime replied and he gave his brother a skeptical look.
"He didn't appear to have fully recuperated yet. And I'm not certain if Cersei's presence is aiding or impeding his recovery," he joked.
Jaime fell silent at his comment and stayed that way for several moments before he let out a sigh. "Cersei hasn't stepped out of that room even once in the past few weeks."
"Is that what's worrying you?" He asked and Jaime nodded.
"That and… Cersei wasn't always this loose with her temper. But, ever since the war, she has 'changed'."
"Changed?" He asked.
"Yes," Jaime responded, without providing further explanation. His brother shook his head and looked back at him. "Anyway, would you attend the feast? Please say yes. Your presence would go a long way in helping me tolerate these people."
"Then I shall attend," he said with a broad grin, but his expression turned serious. "However, there is someone else I must meet before that."
"Let me guess. A certain 'prince' from Dragonstone?" His brother asked and he nodded.
"He didn't visit Lannisport or Casterly Rock during his journey, and father sees that as an insult. He has tasked me with delivering a personal letter to the boy," he explained. "And aside from that, father is not very pleased with the various rumours about him that have been circulating throughout the Seven Kingdoms, either."
"What rumours?" His brother asked, looking confused.
"About princes and thrones." He said and looked around to make sure that no one was listening in on them. A nearby maid suddenly found herself rather engrossed in her task, as did a boy polishing a shoe. He stayed quiet until they were out of earshot before he continued. "The kind that's liable to get your head on a block. Anyway, let's not talk about that right now. Tell me about the latest news in regards to Kings Landing. What's new here?"
"Well, the King has asked his Small Council to host yet another tourney. For 'Joffrey's recovery'. Though I would hardly call it something new, considering that it happens every few moons." Jaime said and then his brows furrowed. "Though… Stephen might participate this time."
"You look worried," he teased, but his brother's furrowed brow made him blink in surprise. "What? Do you think the boy will beat you with his 'shining sword'?" he added mockingly, but his brother didn't even crack a smile. This lack of reaction concerned him.
"I'll admit, I've never seen Stephen Baratheon on a jousting yard." Jaime said slowly. "But if he takes part in the melee, then bet all your money on him."
"You think that he'll win?" He asked, wondering if those rumours about the boy's martial abilities were true after all. "Jaime… he's a boy of ten."
"And I spar with him every single day. So I know better than anyone just how good he is." Jaime stated, wincing slightly as he clutched his side.
"You do?" He asked, surprised by this bit of news.
"Yes. And I've yet to win a single spar with him." Jaime pursed his lips as that. "And I have this feeling that he's been holding back on me, although I'm not entirely sure why I think that. It's just a hunch, I suppose."
"Does he uses his shining sword against you in his spar as well?" He asked, trying to make light of the situation even as the rational part of his mind tried to deal with the fact that a ten year old boy was regularly defeating his brother in their spars.
His brother… who was one of the, if not 'the' best swordsman in all of Westeros.
"No." Jaime shook his head. "But he does bring his wench to our morning spars."
"His wench?" He asked, confused about who Jaime was talking about.
"Asha Greyjoy." Jaime said, though he didn't sound very amused. "The bitch is good with a sword as well. In fact, I would bet on her against half of my Kingsguard 'brothers'."
"Is she really that good?"
"I would say that it's my Kingsguard 'brothers' who are bad. But, that bitch is not bad either."
"You don't seem to like her very much." He observed and his brother chuckled.
"Meet her in person, and you'll see what I mean," Jaime remarked before coming to a halt in front of a room. "This is the room I've managed to arrange for you. It's not as great as it could have been, given the rushed circumstances. I hope it's still to your liking."
"I'm a small man with small needs," he declared as he opened the door and surveyed the room. It was... passable. However, the presence of a woman would definitely elevate the experience. Preferably a naked woman who's willing to suck his Lannister cock for his Lannister gold.
"That's good to hear. Do you need anything else?" Jaime asked and then quickly added. "Aside from a wine and a wench."
"Yes. The location of 'Prince' Stephen would be nice. It would help me find him quicker once I'm done here."
"That's easy. You'll find him in the library." Jaime said before he put a hand on his shoulder. "A word of warning though. Whatever happens, do not insult any of his women."
"His women?" He asked, and then jogged his mind to remember all the rumours he'd heard about the boy.. "Are you talking about the sand snakes that joined him when he visited Sunspear."
"Yeah. The boy keeps the company of two of the Sand Snakes. As well as Asha Greyjoy. The boy is overprotective of them. So do not insult them if you want to get into his good graces."
"I never planned to do that in the first place. But thanks for the advice. Anything else I need to know?"
Jaime thought about it for a moment before he shook his head. "No. Be respectful, and you should do just fine."
"I see," he responded, then looked up at his brother. He smiled. "It's good to see you again, Jaime."
Jaime grinned and leaned in for another hug. "You too, Tyrion."
—
He entered the library of the Red Keep, and the sight and scent of so many old books packed together in a single room made him feel right at home.
The library at the Red Keep was slightly larger than the one at Casterly Rock. Though he couldn't say which one held more books. He supposed that he'll find that out once he has the time.
Right now though, he had another person of interest that he needed to meet with.
He walked over to the book keeper and asked in a whisper. "I'm looking for Stephen Baratheon. Can you tell me where he is?"
"Go to the end of the library. You'll find him right there." The librarian told him, and he did just that.
As he passed by the second-to-last shelf, he spotted a table piled high with dozens of thick accounting books, haphazardly arranged. A handsome youth was methodically sifting through them one by one.
Oh, and that handsome youth had three beautiful young women surrounding him. Women that he assumed to be Asha Greyjoy and the Sand Snakes.
He didn't fail to notice the Baratheon sigil emblazoned on the youth's doublet. But… the young man in front of him was definitely five and ten years old at least. And by all accounts, Stephen Baratheon should have just celebrated his tenth nameday.
This couldn't be him, right?
"Excuse me." He said and the four people stopped what they were doing in order to focus on him. "I'm looking for Stephen Baratheon."
The young man set aside the accounting book he had been perusing and smiled. "You're staring at him, Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister," he declared.
'So it is indeed him. Why did no one saw it fit to inform me that the boy wasn't truly a boy?' He thought and then realised that some of the rumours did indeed portray him as a young man. He just hadn't taken them seriously enough.
He couldn't help but wonder which other rumours he had ignored that could potentially hold some truth to them.
However, considering that some of the rumours claimed him to be a dragon in human skin, saying that he destroyed the Iron Fleet by breathing Green Fire on them. He believed that he could be forgiven for being skeptical.
His father, of course, hadn't seen it fit to share his personal reports with him. So he had to learn everything through the rumours.
"You know who I am?" He asked, pretending to be surprised even though he really wasn't. There weren't many dwarves out there who could afford to dress as extravagantly as he did.
"Don't pretend to be surprised, Tyrion. A dwarf in Lannister red? Any man with some basic common sense would recognise who you are." The boy (young man?) leaned forward in his chair and his eyes bore down upon him with great intensity. "The question is, why are you here and not back in Casterly Rock?"
"I finally got bored of my home and decided to travel around and see a bit more of the world." He said before he smiled at the three young women surrounding Stephen Baratheon. "Good afternoon ladies. You don't mind if I take a seat, do you?"
To his surprise, all three girls immediately looked to Stephen for an answer. Either the boy was a charmer who had them wrapped around his fingers, or he was a natural leader. Probably both, given the rumours.
"As long as you tell us why you're here, and make it quick. I mean no disrespect to you, Tyrion, but we're a bit busy, as you can no doubt see." Stephen said, gesturing at the many account books spread in front of him.
"Of course." He said with a smile as he took out his father's letter from within his doublet and handed it over to the boy. One of the Sand Snakes, a dark skinned girl, took the letter from him and brought it over to the boy.
The boy looked at the letter and raised an eyebrow. "A letter from Lord Tywin Lannister himself? What does it say?"
"I would't know as I've not read it myself." He said, and then to his surprise, the boy put the letter in his pocket… without reading it. He has never met someone in his entire life who received a letter from his lord father and didn't read it right then and there. "Are you not curious about what is written in that letter?" He asked.
"I am." The boy said. "But I'm more interested in you. Tell me, Tyrion. Why are you really here? And please don't lie this time. This city is filled with liars as it is. I would be very disappointed, if you turned out just like everyone else."
"And how can you be so sure that I'm lying?" He asked, realising that he might enjoy talking with this boy after all. "Did the gods bless you with an ability to detect lies from truths as well?"
"Not really. It's more of a Face-Reading Skill that I acquired while dealing with the various merchants and the nobles in Kings Landing." The boy said, putting a strange emphasis on the word 'skill', for some reason. "Now… back to you. Why are you here, talking with me, when you can be back in your room, enjoying your time with Betha?"
And of course the boy would have a spy network as well. Why was he even surprised at this point?
"Perhaps. But you can only enjoy a woman for so long. I've found that books can entertain you for much longer." He said before he glanced at the various account books piled around the table. "Though I can't say that I've ever enjoyed reading account books as much as you seem to do."
"It's a passing fancy." The boy said, cleverly not revealing anything more to him. "And with that, I think that I've entertained you for long enough. If you have nothing of value to say to me, Tyrion, then the door is that way."
He faked a smile. "No need to be so hasty now. I'm just curious about the person who not only ignored Lannisport on voyage but also went and helped the Ironborn. Not a clever idea, I would say. Especially when my father went as far as he did to ruin their economy. I'm afraid to say that you've earned the ire of my father with your actions, Stephen Baratheon."
"Is that a threat?" The boy asked, looking amused. And any person who finds himself amused upon learning that he had gained his father's ire, is either too confident in himself, or a fool.
He couldn't say which one the boy was. He guessed that it was probably a bit of both.
"Just a mere observation."
"I see." The boy said and went silent.
Moments passed, and upon realising that the boy was not going to say anything else, he decided that he had no choice but to speak up once again. "I heard that you healed Prince Joffrey with your blessings, as well as many other people in Kings Landing. And I was wondering if you could heal... dwarfism as well."
And while he would not admit this to anyone. That was definitely one of his reasons for coming here. And he was rather hopeful that Stephen would help him in this.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps not. It's all in the hand of the gods, after all." The boy said, looking at him squarely in the eyes.
"I thought you hated liars." He said, feeling a slight build up of resentment in his heart at the fact that the boy won't help him when he could do it so very easily.
"I believe in treating people how they treat me." The boy said with a shrug.
He forced another smile on his face. "Maybe we got off to a wrong start. How about we start once again. As friends."
The boy seemed unimpressed by his words. "Did you know that Lady Martell was friends with your mother? And that she once brought Prince Oberyn and Princess Elia to Casterly Rock, some time after your birth. Hoping to get a marriage pact with either Jaime or Cersei."
"I… did not know that." He admitted. Though considering that no one ever talked about his mother Casterly Rock, that was not surprising.
"Yes, if your mother were still alive, then it is possible that either your sister, or your brother would've married one of the Martell siblings. Imagine that." Stephen informed him. "But your mother died giving birth to you, as your sister has no doubt told you many times. And your father rejected the match without giving it a second thought."
"I see." He said feeling sick to the stomach as he realise that Elia Martell could've been his goodsister. To think of what could've been, and then to think about how she met her end…
"I will not lie to you, Tyrion. I do not like your family. I do not like your father. I do not like your sister. And I'm not sure what to think of you. So when you ask me to be your friend, I find myself hesitant to accept that hand of friendship."
"I'm not my father." He told Stephen and then added. "Or my sister."
"Are you not?" Stephen asked. "From the rumours I've heard, I would say that out of all the three children of Tywin Lannister, you resemble your father more than either of your siblings."
"I am not my father." He reiterated once again and Stephen gave him a sad smile.
"Perhaps not. But you're still loyal to your family. And while your family and mine might be allies of convenience, that does not make us friends."
"Our families are more than that." He said. "My sister is your aunt."
Stephen gave a look at those words. "The only family your sister has, are her children and her brother. And if you believe otherwise, then you're either blind, or you're lying to yourself."
"So… no one will befriend a dwarf then?" He asked with a chuckle and Stephen scoffed at that.
"Come now, Tyrion. Self-pity doesn't suit you. In another life, in another world, maybe I would've befriended you. But not now. Not here."
"I see." He said as he got up from his chair. "I assume that I have no chance of getting you to give me your 'blessing' then?"
Stephen only smiled at him and he sighed.
"Very well then. I'll see you around, Stephen Baratheon."
Stephen nodded at him and he left the library with a heavy heart.