The Last Velaryon - Robb Stark

24 - The Unlikely Pair

Tyrion's pov

The feast being hosted at Winterfell was alive with laughter from drunken lords and ladies who were in attendance. Walking around the tables I was in search of my next fix of wine since I had an empty cup. I took another step around the corner before suddenly colliding with another person. "Ohhh! - forgive me."

I was waiting for whoever it was to address me as a monster or an imp believing I had knocked down another man who was drunk. Except that wasn't the case when my eyes focused on a young lady in a simple sea green dress with light brown hair. "I'm quite alright, my lord."

"Here, here let me help you." I extended my hand outward for her to take once I had gotten to my own feet. With her gentle hand in mine I tugged her to stand where I had to lift my head up to look into her eyes. "I must apologize, my lady. I must have only stopped looking where I was going for a split second."

The young girl with her hair loosely framing down her shoulders asked me. "Does your neck hurt having to look up people like that all the time?"

"Sometimes yes. But it's all I've ever known." I wasn't sure if she meant that as a mockery or not at how short I was compared to everyone else.

She slowly led me over to an available area in the dining hall where people weren't occupying before she sat down putting her hands in her lap sending me a gentle smile. "Sit down with me. I don't wish for you to have to strain your neck for however our conversation may be."

"My lady, I shouldn't - what of your gown?" I found myself nearly at a loss for words by the small kindness she had just shown me. Thinking that this must just be a one time thing between us, until I was wrong in the coming days.

She waved her hand not fazed by the idea of her gown getting ruined. "I have other ones back in my chambers. Besides, I'm not a high born. I don't care too much for fancy dresses. Now are you going to stand there until your feet hurt or are you going to sit down hmm?"

"I must know your name before we continue this conversation, my lady." I sat down beside her finally on the cold stone ground.

"Chezney Ally. But people closest to me call me Chez."

Holding out my hand I introduced myself even though she probably already knew who I was given I was born a high born. "I'm Tyrion, have you ever had wine before Chezney?"

"I haven't. Although it seems very likable by the amount of drunk men stumbling around this room."

I gasped in shock, hanging my mouth open at her statement. "What - h - how have you never had any. We must fix this at once."

"Tyrion! What - what are we doing?" Chezney began giggling before I grabbed her wrist pulling her up off the floor, dragging her over to the table of alcohol near us,

Pouring her a small amount I held a cup up to her. "Try it and tell me what you think."

"Gah! - that's not the worst thing I've had." She made a sour face after drinking the liquor inside the cup. She held the cup in both hands sending me the same innocent smile before we began our conversation back on the stone floor with some glasses of wine in our hands.

"We must find Sansa Stark a different husband." My father Tywin who was now Hand of the King to Joffrey sat at the head council chair.

"Wonderful."

My sister smirked wickedly at me. "Yes it is."

"You can't mean it?" I questioned my father.

He responded sternly. "I can and I do."

"Joffrey has made this poor girl's life miserable since the day he took her father's head. Now she's finally free of him and you give her to me. That's cruel even for you."

Father raised his chin slightly. "You intend on mistreating her. The girl's happiness is not my concern, nor should it be yours."

"She's a child!" I raised my voice towards him feeling uneasy about the whole situation.

He declares to me resting his hands on the table. "You will wed her, bed her and put a child in her. Surely you're capable of that."

"I was wed." Pushing my chair out and away from the table I snatched up the Master of Coin book I had carried in with me before storming out of the room. After I had found Bronn I had filled him in on everything while we were sitting outside drinking a pitcher of wine. ""I cannot marry Sansa Stark. She's a young child regardless of what my sister says."

"What's the youngest you've ever had?"

Shaking my head no in disgust. "Not that young."

"How much older?"

Rolling my eyes slightly I avoided his gaze. "Older."

"You're a Lord. She's a Lady and a beauty at that. I don't see the problem." He popped a bite of fruit into his mouth.

Tapping my fingers on the rim of my wine cup I couldn't help but think about Chezney almost every night before I fell asleep. "I am not comfortable sleeping with a girl so young like that. I - I can't ever love her like she deserves. Another woman already has my heart."

"Is she a whore. How did marrying a whore work out for you the first time?" Bronn asked me reaching for his glass he had sat down on the table.

Leaning my head back against the seat I now regretted that I told him about Tysha. "I should have never told you about that."

"If you want this other girl then keep her. Wed one and bed the other. All you have to do is put a son in the Stark girl. He'll be Lord of Winterfell and you can rule the North in his name. You'll have two women and a whole kingdom of your own."

I tilted my head back taking a long drink from my glass until I had finished the whole glass. "Two women to despise me and the whole kingdom to join them."

"You waste time trying to get people to love you, you'll end up the most popular dead man in town." Bronn grabbed the pitcher before me, pouring himself some more wine in his own glass then mine. "You want to fuck that Stark girl. You just don't want to admit it."

I stuttered on my words, nearly dropping the glass in my hands. "I - I - I don't pay you to put evil notions in my head. The ones already there don't need company."

"So if this other girl isn't a whore, what exactly is she?" He asked me.

Rubbing the back of my neck I sighed heavily, finally meeting his gaze. "Her name is Chezney. She isn't a high born girl. She used to be a lady-in-waiting for the daughter of House Velaryon."

"Oh boy, you might just have a death wish. You've fallen for your brother's wife's handmaiden in the middle of a war between your family and the Starks who are keeping them prisoner. I would hate to be you."

Sitting my cup down I pushed myself out of the chair heading to my chamber room. Locking the door behind myself I ran my fingers through my messy curls before I crossed the room reaching into a secret compartment I had made on the floor underneath the bed. "I wish I could be marrying you, Chezney." I whispered under my breath, holding a small black box in my hands that had one of my mothers rings inside of it that I would make a wedding band for her if I ever got to see her again.

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