The Northern Dragon

CH 40: MHYSA (2/2)

– King's Landing –

Tyrion gulped down an entire goblet of wine in a single sitting. The glass clanked against the table when Tyrion put it down. He had no intention of stopping there, however, and reached for the glass flask to pour himself more wine. "Keep up."

"I don't think I can, my lord." Podrick had forced himself to drink a third glass, but he was barely halfway through it and Tyrion had already filled it to the top again. Podrick's throat burned at the thought of drinking anymore.

Tyrion filled his own glass. If one didn't know any better, they would think it was his family that had died. Although, in a sense, they were his in-laws albeit not by choice. "It's not easy being drunk all the time. Everyone would do it if it were easy."

"Leave the poor boy alone, brother. At this rate, you're going to kill him." Michael leaned back, gulping down his glass until there was nothing left. He sighed and pointed the mouth of his empty glass to Tyrion, wordlessly asking for another drink.

"A little wine never killed anybody." Tyrion made no comment on this rare occasion. This marked the second time he was seeing his little brother drunk. The first being when Tyrion took Michael to Lannisport on the boy's 16th Nameday. Their father was furious when he learned of it. Well actually, Jaime was in a worse mood when he found out because he wasn't able to join, being a Kingsguard in King's Landing and all that.

Michael kept his head slumped over the backrest. "Overdrinking can lead to death. It is known."

"You are a boring drunk. Did you know that?"

"I am a great... drunk... I think." Michael slurred over his words. He tried to sit straight, failing miserably since his body always slid downward.

Podrick didn't care much either way. To him, they were both terrible drunks and he was the poor innocent fellow who had to suffer through it all. He didn't understand why it had to be him who drank with them. Podrick was sure Bron would enjoy it a million times more.

Podrick forced himself to take another sip of wine. As he did, the most talented drunk of them all entered the room and stood beside poor Podrick. "Leave."

It took Podrick a moment to react but once he did, he stood up in a hurry. He held his bloated stomach and practically ran out of the room. Podrick never thought a day would come when he would consider Cersei his savior.

Cersei waited for Podrick to leave before forcing out a grimace which she thought was a smile. "So, Tyrion, enjoying married life?"

Cersei had no intention of getting an answer from him and went to fill a clean glass with wine for herself. "An unhappy wife is a wine merchant's best friend."

"She doesn't deserve this."

"Deserve?" Cersei turned around to face her younger brothers. "Be careful with that. Start trying to work out who deserves what, and before long you'll spend your days weeping for every person in the world."

Cersei walked to the other side of the round table where Tyrion and Michael sat, still wearing that strange smile of hers that was beginning to seriously give her brothers the creeps.

"Sister, please, don't try to sound poetic. It doesn't suit you."

Tyrion snorted in agreement. "Cheers to that. There's nothing worse than a late blooming philosopher. Will you be facing your marriage to Ser Loras with the same philosophical spirit?"

"I won't be marrying Ser Loras." She sounded very certain of that.

Tyrion didn't think much of it. His sister was one to grow arrogant even when her position was bad. "I seem to remember saying something similar about my own marriage."