❝ you don't know it yet but the two of you are very special. more special than anyone will ever know. ❞
❝ special how? we're bastards. we are anything but special. ❞
❝ because, my son, you were born from fire and ice...
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| RED KEEP castle | theCrownlands , King's Landing
"OH, LOOK, IT'S DAMIEN STARK."
The boy's head turned toward the sound of his name. Tyrion Lannister had come across the training room, with a matching bottle of wine in his hand, wondering who may be in there. Jaime shook his head and chuckled, tousling his perfect hair, wondering what trouble his little brother would create.
"My Lord," Damien greeted, choosing to ignore the Stark part, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.
"None of that Lord shit. Call me Tyrion or maybe dwarf? No, wait, Tyrion is fine," the Imp said drowsily, walking tipsily over to him as he stepped back. Jaime took action, standing in front of Damien which the boy was surprised at.
What was Tyrion Lannister capable of doing that needed Jaime protecting him?
"You're scaring the boy, brother. Go to your chambers or a whorehouse and drink your troubles away."
"Troubles? I have no troubles besides our darling sister and idiot father, of course, but other than that there is nothing," Tyrion slurred.
"Don't talk about Father like that," Jaime argued, his voice firm.
"Or what? Are you going to slay me too?"
Jaime stood quietly as Tyrion inhaled another large gulp of the bittersweet drink. Damien had tried wine, once; Jon had sneaked some from the kitchen and into their room. After a sip, they vowed never to taste such a thing again. Jaime looked at his brother with such anger; Tyrion knew that his brother didn't like being called the Kingslayer or anything that had to do with the Mad King's death.
"You can be a real cunt, you know that? Come, Damien," Jaime hissed as he left the room. Damien took a glance at Tyrion, who undoubtedly regretted his actions.
Despite his foul mouth and disgusting actions, the Snow pitied the Imp; like Damien, he was mistreated by a loved one, constantly reminded of what he was and . . . unwanted.
"Stare all you want, I shan't get any bigger," Tyrion said.
"Why do you drink? I see you passed out sometimes in the hallways—"
"While swinging swords around like drunkards is your hobby, downing huge amounts of alcohol is mine. I drink because, besides my dear brother and whores, drinking gives me pleasure and excitement. The intoxication lets me drift away from the utter shittness of the world. It's impossible but the wine makes it a bit less impossible," Tyrion grinned, making Damien feel uncomfortable.
