Dark Past, Bright Future (A Tyrion Lannister Love Story)

Not Ashamed

Tyrion returned to the brothel the next night and the night after that and the night after. Each night, Lyra was either leaving or occupied with another patron. If she was leaving, she would give him a curtsy, but that was it. If Tyrion or Little finger said something to her, she would often come back with some witty remark or other, but that was all. It irritated Tyrion to no end. How hard was it to get the attention of one woman? He was determined to meet her. To talk to her. Hells, he was willing to pay her just to have a conversation with her!

Finally, after nearly a week, Tyrion made it to the brothel early enough. When he entered, Littlefinger gave him a cheeky grin. "My Lord Tyrion! You will be pleased to know that Lyra is available this evening." It had not escaped Littlefinger's attention that Tyrion was trying so desperately to met Lyra. Tyrion grinned and allowed Littlefinger to lead him to the room where Lyra was.

Said woman was sitting at a vanity, combing out her hair while waiting for her next, and probably last customer when she heard their footsteps. She set down her brush and turned to face the doorway. She arched a brow when Littlefinger appear followed by Tyrion. "There she is," Littlefinger said with a flourish. "All yours, my lord." With that, Littlefinger left Tyrion in the room with Lyra.

She stood up, her eyes locking with his, putting him into a kind of trance. "What would you like, my lord?" she asked him, catching his attention yet again. The way she spoke was different. Not like any other whore he'd ever met. She spoke with an eloquence Tyrion only heard from higher born women. But that couldn't be. Tyrion still hadn't said a word so Lyra began untying the top part of her dress.

"Wait," Tyrion said and she stopped. Her brows drew together in confusion. "I admit I did not come here to bed you, Lyra." Lyra cocked her head to the side and Tyrion fought back a chuckle at how adorable it looked. "What sort of man comes to a brothel and does not wish to bed a whore? You're not a eunuch, are you? Or perhaps you prefer the company of men?" She had a sharp tongue. "I am neither a eunuch nor do I prefer a man's company."

"Then why have you come here if you do not wish me to do what I'm paid to do?" Tyrion sighed deeply and asked, "Have you any wine?" Lyra nodded and crossed the room. Perhaps he needed some coaxing? As if reading her mind, Tyrion finally answered her question, "I came to speak with you." Lyra turned back to him. "To speak with me? Why?"

"Because you are the only one of Lord Baelish's...employees I have yet to meet. You leave in the morning do not return until after sun set. You say nothing, but you regard everything with eyes full of curiosity. Suffice it to say, you have intrigued me," he told her after a moment of silence. "You can call me a whore, Lord Tyrion. I am a whore." Lyra stood tall, her chin up and her stance full of grace and dignity, "I know what I am and I am not ashamed."

Tyrion stared at her, stunned into silence for probably the first time in his life. Never before had he seen a whore that was proud to be one. Lyra gave him a goblet of wine and gestured for him to take a seat. "If you are determined to speak with me, then what would you like to know?" Thus the questions began. Tyrion asked any and every question on his mind, Lyra answering them with ease. After all, he was paying to talk to her. So, she played his little game until it turned to questions about her life before the brothel. Then, her answers became vague.

When the sun began to peek through the windows in the room, Lyra practically jumped up. "My apologies, my lord but I really must go." Tyrion's brows furrowed but he didn't argue with her. He could see the worry in her eyes. He merely nodded his head. She curtsied and apologized again before practically running from the room. Tyrion sat there for a few moments in silence until Littlefinger reappeared. "Lord Tyrion..."

"Where does she keep going, Lord Baelish?" Little finger smirked. "That is not for me to tell you. Lyra is...different as I am certain you've noticed. She is not like the rest of my girls." Tyrion rolled his eyes. Of course he noticed. Bidding Littlefinger good day, Tyrion got up and left the room. As he was leaving the brothel, Mila approached him. "I was sorry not to have your company, milord." Tyrion brushed past as if he didn't hear her. She huffed and stormed back into her room. Tyrion made his way back to the Red Keep, his mind on his conversation with Lyra. Even after talking with her all night, she was still a mystery to him.