Bringing the Dawn

XXXVIII.

Tyrion Lannister

The Western Camp near Harrenhal, 300AC

Knowledge was something he always thirsted for. For as long as he could remember, his head had been buried in a book whether that be ones written by Maester's or small folk or the rare few that had made it out of the Valyrian Freehold prior to the Doom. Ayrmidon's had always been favourites of his, and it fascinated him greatly how an empire of such grew the way that it had. Granted, it took hundreds of years- some would even say thousands- but impressive nonetheless. His head was still aching from the battle they had lost, where Robb Stark had set out a brilliant plot to keep his father occupied.

Not that he would say it aloud, but it was amusing to see his father with a sour look on his face. Especially because it was a boy of seventeen who had done so. If it weren't an attack against his own House, he would've laughed merrily. But it was, and his brother now lay in chains in a dungeon either at Riverrun or near Riverrun. The Golden Lion now a prisoner himself. Anger bubbled up inside because when he heard of his capturing, he had immediately wanted to ride east with the Mountain Clan's who had come down from the Vale to free him, but his father had already sent them all back to their mountains to continue their normal lives. And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't do anything about it currently.

Harrenhal had fallen within two hours the bards said when his father rode up to the gates and demanded Lady Shella Whent to yield her Seat. Even though much of it was nought but a melted ruin from Balerion the Dread's black flames, it was still an honour to hold a place as such and his father seized the chance as a way to get back at the Tully's after Lady Lysa took him prisoner. Thank goodness Jaime was inducted into the Kingsguard otherwise he would've been wed to that maniac. It was embarrassing enough having a Frey uncle, he didn't need to add an insane goodsister to the mix too.

Not all Tully's were evil though, remembering Lady Catelyn and Ser Brynden's attempts to diffuse the situation but being tied as they were in their kins Kingdom and therefore did not have much say in things. Whilst he had not heard the words himself, he was perceptive, and he could tell neither wanted to be there and thought it was a farce. But something bothered him, why was Lady Catelyn in the Vale? She must've ridden south after hearing he had been taken hostage to try and reason with her sister.

"Come back to bed, my lion."

He snapped his head around to be met with Shae. The whore Bronn had found a few days prior that had caught his fancy partially due to her looks but also down to her mind. Playing a drinking game he had made up years ago which she picked up easily and was even able to get him flustered with her tongue- in more ways than one. His cock twitching ever so slightly at the thought.

"I'm afraid I cannot, my Lady. My father has summoned me and I'm sure even the Lorathi have heard it is not a good idea to anger the almighty Tywin."

Black curls snapped back as she threw her head back in annoyance and he seized his chance to begin making his way to the centre of the hall. The scent of blood still strong from when his fathers men killed everyone within the castle when Lady Shella abdicated her Seat. There was no way out of it, she either gave it up or it was being forcefully taken from her. Not that it done her any good as she was now a prisoner herself and her surviving sons put to the sword and thus continuing the curse of the castle. One House extinct, Tyrion assumed more than one would experience the same fate during this war his wretched nephew had started. Tensions had been building for a while which a lot of people ignored but he never did, but ordering Eddard Stark be imprisoned and later executed was what dropped the flame into the oil.

Why was he being summoned? A part of him hoped that he was finally being considered as the heir of Casterly Rock but he rid himself of these thoughts almost immediately. All his father talked about since finding out Jaime had been taken hostage was how it damaged his precious legacy that he had worked so hard to create after his pious father Tytos had practically made House Lannister the laughing stock of the Westerland's. Of how with that being the case he no longer had his perfect heir. It grated on Tyrion, but he had gotten used to it a long time ago. It was no secret that he was hated by his father because Joanna had died birthing him. He whistled quietly as he sat down in front of his uncle Kevan and some others he did not recognise, being pleasantly surprised by the large wood block on the ground to help him get seated with his stunted legs.