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Tyrion Lannister

Absent-mindedly and whistling softly he came into Casterly Rock's quiet and deserted library. As he expected, the only one who was there was the septon in charge of it, and he was grateful for it. It wasn't that he disliked to have company, but most people either regarded him as a baby or shied away from him because of the way he looked, and that annoyed him. Besides, reading was always a more pleasant activity when he was alone and in a quiet place, as he was then.

Tyrion walked to the bookshelves to look for something interesting to read. He chose an old and dusty volume with hard red covers, which was about a topic that had interested him since he was a little child: dragons. He could still remember perfectly the disappointment he had felt when his uncles had told him that those fascinating creatures were extinct. Tyrion had been sure that Tygett and Gerion, who were some of the few who were fond of Tyrion, would give him that gift he wanted so much. They were Lannisters of Casterly Rock, like him, and they had enough gold to buy anything. Except dragons, it would seem.

Back to the present, Tyrion sat on an armchair and opened his book. It had information about all the dragons of the Targaryens. He found the usual data, which he already knew, about their sizes, colors, riders, feeding and more. But aside from that, Tyrion came across some new information about the saddles the Targaryens used for riding dragons. They held the riders with straps, so that there was no danger of them falling off during their flights. A fall from a dragon would most certainly be fatal, and dragons could turn violently or plummet down, jeopardizing their riders' lives. That was why the Targaryens had commanded the production of the special saddles whose plans Tyrion studied with fascination.

Looking at their pictures, Tyrion suddenly had an idea: if there could be some special saddles to ride dragons, surely one designed for a dwarf could also exist. He could only ride ponies, and he found it degrading, because nobody took him seriously. To ride an actual hose he would need some sort of special saddle. But dwarves didn't interest people as much as dragons did, and there weren't many of them who wished to ride. Nobody was likely to make a saddle seat especially for him. However, Tyrion could very well design his own.

Thus he asked the septon some parchment and ink, and he set to work on his new project. He was so immersed in the task that he did not notice the time that went by as he drew his saddle, which slowly started to take shape. He pictured himself sitting on a tall and strong horse, as the ones Jaime rode in his tourneys. He was not so naive to believe he could enter the lists, but that didn't matter to him.

His work and daydreams were suddenly interrupted by the maester, whose footsteps Tyrion hadn't heard. "Lord Tyrion, your lord father sent me to give you some news."

"What is it?" Tyrion asked, with little interest.

"There came a raven from King's Landing. The Royal Family will soon come to visit Casterly Rock. Queen Cersei wishes to introduce Prince Joffrey to her father."

"Will Jaime come too, maester?" Tyrion asked then. Cersei had always made clear that she would have preferred her little brother not to exist, but Jaime, on the other hand, had always been a good older brother, and he was the only person Tyrion missed and wished to see.

"Yes, my lord, Ser Jaime will come with the Royal Family as a member of the Kingsguard. Besides, Lord Tywin will send ravens to his siblings, inviting Ser Kevan, Gerion, Genna and their families. So, all the Lannisters of Casterly Rock will be here soon."

The news delighted him: he was going to see Jaime and his uncles again. They were the only people who loved him and were kind to him, and it had been a long time since he had last seen them. The last 2 years he had been living only with his father, who rarely spoke to him, and the few times he did, Tyrion was grateful for the infrequency of their conversations.

He was 13, and he already knew he would never get his father's affection. As far as Tyrion knew, his father was incapable of love. But Jaime had told him that Tywin had not always been that way.

He had loved his wife Joanna, and Jaime and Cersei. He had loved them until Joanna died, and the grief of that loss left him incapable of love. Tywin could be proud of his daughter Cersei, who was a queen, and of Jaime, a knight of the Kingsguard.

But he didn't love with the warmth and tenderness a father usually has for his children. And Tyrion was, in Tywin's eyes, the cause of his loved one's death; a crime Tyrion had committed unwittingly, and which his father would never let him forget. And furthermore, he was a dwarf, and there was no reason why Tywin could possibly be proud of him. For all this, his relationship with his father was not a good one.

Tyrion thanked the maester for the good news, allowed him to leave and kept working until he was done. When he finished he realized it had grown dark, and his stomach was rumbling. He had been in the library since midday, and he had not eaten since then. He went to the dining hall, hoping for his father to have finished his dinner by the time he arrived.

He found the hall almost empty, with only a couple of guards sitting in a corner. He ate quietly until he was full, and he accompanied his dinner with some wine (his father hadn't explicitly allowed his 13-years-old son to drink, but Tywin did not really care about what he did, and nobody ever controlled him).

Finally, satisfied and made dizzy by the alcohol his small body did not tolerate very well, he went to his room. He blew the candles off, lay down in his bed and closed his eyes.

That night sleep came quickly, which was unusual for him, and he dreamed of Jaime, a ride to Lannisport and a fair naked maiden. And he woke up at dawn to find his blankets soiled with a white, sticky substance.

Later

Tyrion stood before the Golden Road, with all his family, at the gates of Casterly Rock. His uncle Gerion, who lived in Lannisport, had arrived more than a week before. Kevan, on the other hand, had brought with him his wife, his eldest son, Lancel, who was already 5, and his twins Willem and Martyn. Tyrion had met Lancel before, but it was the first time he saw the younger boys.

The only one missing was his aunt Genna, who had sent a raven from The Twins, apologizing for being unable to come. She argued that it was too long a journey, and even more so now that she had young children, so she promised to visit Casterly Rock and King's Landing in the subsequent years, when her son Walder learned to ride.

Suddenly the shapes of horses and riders appeared in the horizon, galloping to the Rock. Tyrion wondered then what the king would look like. He had had no chance to meet Robert Baratheon for a long time now, because Tyrion hadn't left Casterly Rock during the rebellion, and afterwards, his sweet sister Cersei had not considered it necessary to invite her little brother but Jaime had invited him.

Soon Tyrion could make out a wheelhouse in the distance, and he knew Cersei and her baby were there. As they came near he saw King Robert Baratheon, whom he recognized by the sigil on his surcoat, riding ahead of them. The man had short, black and bright hair, and his eyes were blue. His build made him look like a prodigiously strong man and, if anything Tyrion had heard of him was true, he was. He was tall and broad-shouldered. He could be considered very handsome, if you ignored the little lump that was starting to grow in his belly.

Jaime was beside him, with his white armor gleaming under the sun and his golden hair waving with the wind. When they got there at last, the king dismounted and approached them, while Jaime helped Cersei step down from her wheelhouse. Tyrion knelt before the king with his family, but he just laughed at them.

"Lord Tywin Lannister! I share a bed with your daughter every night, and you still kneel before me when you welcome me to your house!" Robert exclaimed when he was done laughing.

"I am your father-in-law, but you are my king, just like my daughter is my queen. You will get from me the respect that is due," Tywin replied nonchalantly.

Then Jaime, Cersei and Joffrey came forward, the baby boy holding his mother's hand. And it was the time for introductions, congratulations and courtesies. Jaime and Robert greeted Tyrion warmly, but Cersei ignored him deliberately. However, the one who caught Tyrion's attention the most was Joffrey: with his short golden curls, his green eyes and fair skin, he was every inch a Lannister. He looked just like Jaime should have when he was one, Tyrion guessed. And then he knew. At least he thought.

Actually, he had known of the secret relationship of his siblings since he was 5, because he had seen them in Jaime's room one day he had come to seek him out to play some childish game. Jaime had asked him to please keep the secret that Tyrion didn't understand yet, and Cersei had threatened to kill him should he say anything. A long time went by before Tyrion could understand what he had seen, and when he did he still remained silent.

But, wasn't this too much? They were going to introduce Joffrey to the world as Robert Baratheon's son and heir to the Iron Throne. That couldn't be right. Yet Tyrion knew that no good would ever come of telling anyone; if the king ever found out, Jaime would surely have to pay for the crime with his life.

Tywin invited the guests to come into the castle, and the steward led them to the rooms that had been previously prepared for them, so that they could leave their belongings there before dinner. Tyrion went to the stables, where he found the master of horses. For 2 golden dragons he had managed to make him agree to build the saddle he had designed. In an ordinary day he would probably have no need of bribery, but now that so many people had come to Casterly Rock there were too many horses to see to. The man said he had the saddle ready, and he showed it to him.

Tyrion studied it carefully, and he let him know he was pleased with the work. After that he went to his room, where he kept his saddle hidden until he found a good time to show it to Jaime.

"Have you designed it? Really?" He asked amazed. When he answered affirmatively he said "It's great! If you wish we can go for a ride tomorrow, you and me alone, to try it."

Thrilled, Tyrion told his brother that he would love it, and they decided to ride to Lannisport on the morrow and return later the same day. The ride was likely to take most of the day, and they would need to set off early, but that didn't bother Tyrion: he usually woke up at dawn.

He rose when the sun did, as usual. He had barely got some sleep, but that didn't bother him. He rubbed his eyes, stretched, and got up to get dressed. He took some breeches from his closet and an old and not so warm tunic, because old clothes were more comfortable than new ones, and the Westerlands were quite hot in springtime.

When he was ready he went down to break his fast, and after that to the library, where he loitered reading about the Blackfyre Rebellions until Jaime remembered to seek him out for the ride they had planned. That happened a few hours before midday, because Jaime never got up as early as Tyrion did, and he had probably wanted to spend some time with their uncles after breakfast.

But when he came, Tyrion was happy at the prospect of riding, and not at all angry for Jaime's lateness. His older brother went with him to the stables, where they asked a horse for each of them. Jaime helped Tyrion to saddle his, and then to mount.

Once he was seated on it, the boy felt as confident as if he was mounted on his little pony. But now he was on a big stallion, like Jaime's, and he could see the other people from above. Tyrion knew he would never be able to ride a dragon, and this was the nearest thing he would ever be from that, but with this he was satisfied.

The brothers viewed this ride as a chance to be alone and talk, after being apart for such a long time, so they went slowly, at a walking pace, while they chatted idly. Jaime talked about King's Landing, about King Robert Baratheon (who, in Jaime's opinion, could hardly be said to be a better king than Aerys II), about the court and other things. Tyrion listened and made witty comments every once in a while, making Jaime laugh. But after a while, Tyrion thought it was time to speak of a more serious matter. Because, though Tyrion knew very well that his siblings' relationship did not concern him, he wanted Jaime at least to confess to him what he already knew, proving in some way that he still trusted him, and that he didn't consider him too young to know.

"Jaime, may I ask you something?"

"Of course you may, Tyrion. What are big brothers for, but to bother them with questions all the time?" Jaime answered, trying to stay in the field of jokes and small talk.

"I want to know something about the boy, Joffrey. He isn't actually the king's son, or is he, Jaime?"

Jaime's smile died in his face. He seemed frightened, worried and angry. Tyrion's question had visibly upset him.

"He's not my son, Me and Cersei are Over," Jaime spoke with a hint of relief on his tone, as his eyes looked to the horizon, filled with something Tyrion had not seen in a long time, he wondered what could have happened to his brother to make him look like this.

Tyrion remembered seeing his brother two years after the rebellion, he looked pale, bags under his eyes, and his usual green eyes looked paler, almost lifeless, but now Tyrion saw his green eyes looked bright, as green as grass.

They kept riding in silence, because Jaime did not feel like talking anymore and Tyrion could not think of anything to say to lift his spirits. He was about to suggest that they turned back when they heard the shriek that started it all.

Without hesitation, Jaime urged his horse to a quick trot, and he led it to the place where the sound came from. Tyrion's horse followed without his rider having to command it. They stopped before three men and a maid. The girl was lying on the ground with her skirts torn and lifted. Two of the men held her tightly, pressing her against the ground, while the third one, who had taken off his breeches, was on her, roughly taking off her clothes and ripping off her dress.

Jaime climbed off his horse and unsheathed his sword, startling the men. The eones who were holding the girl let go of her, scared, and ran away from the Lion of Lannister. But the man that was half-naked did not react in time, and Jaime pulled his hair, pushing him away from the young girl and making him turn until he lay on his back, looking up at him.

"Don't you know there are brothels?" Jaime asked him as he rested the edge of his sword on the man's neck. "It's nothing personal, but I have a house to defend, and raping a woman just hours away from Casterly Rock is a direct insult to the honor of House Lannister. Besides, it is too immoral a practice, even for a Kingslayer like me." Then, Jaime seemed to change his mind: instead of granting him a quick death by slitting his throat he chose to remove his cock first, which made the man give a louder and more frightful scream than the one the maiden had uttered before.

After allowing him to feel the pain for a while, Jaime put him to his expected death. Tyrion watched the scene from atop his horse, open-mouthed: it was the first time he saw someone's death, and his brother was the killer.

The knight turned to the maid, who had quietly stood up. "Could you tell me your name, please?"

"I'm Tysha, m'lord," she replied shyly and with a slight bow.

"Have you got somewhere to go?"

"I don't, m'lord. My father hired some lands near here, and we used to live there, but he died, and I can't pay it anymore."

"Don't worry, Tysha. I am Ser Jaime Lannister, and he is my brother, Tyrion. We will help you."

Tyrion looked at Jaime, surprised to have been mentioned. Tyrion couldn't fight, and he had no idea as to what should be done about that poor lost and lonely maid. Yet he would like to help. That morning he had set off with Jaime, believing that riding a real horse was as near as he would ever get to being a knight.

Now, however, Jaime was giving him the chance to help him rescue a damsel in distress, a quest fit for a knight from a story or a song. And Tyrion did not care that the girl was lowborn and had no castle. She was an innocent, defenseless girl that deserved his protection. And saving her would be as heroic as rescuing a princess.

"Tyrion, would you take Tysha to some inn?" Jaime asked him. "I will see to those rapists." And without waiting for an answer, he mounted again and galloped off, leaving Tyrion to the task of tending to the damsel in distress.

Tyrion dismounted with difficultly and looked at the maid, who was slender and taller than him. Her hair was dark and lustrous, and Tyrion thought it was pretty, in spite of it being all messy. Her eyes were deep blue and her face was pale, though that could be because she had been about to be raped.

"Don't worry, Lady Tysha: you are safe with me. Follow me, if you please. I shall take you to an inn near here," he said, sounding much more comfortable than he actually felt.

"Thank you, ser Tyron," she said, holding his hand. Tyrion was astonished: it was the first time someone mistook him for a knight.

"I am no knight, my lady. Just a boy of 13. And a dwarf, besides."

"And I am no lady. Just a crofter's daughter," she answered with a small smile.

"Well, if you want it to be that way, I shall be your knight, and you my damsel in distress. We will be equal, then."

"Done, ser Tyrion."

"Done, my lady Tysha." And among little comments and shy smiles they walked to the inn, leading Tyrion's horse and walking together, side by side.

When they got to the inn Tyrion left his horse in its small stable and paid the innkeeper for a room with 2 beds, which he would share with Tysha for a week. Once he had arranged this he sat with his companion at a table in the dining-hall, and he asked for as much food as they could eat. He also ordered wine, because he didn't want to drink a simple water glass in the company of 'his lady.' Being just as tall as her breasts was humiliating enough; if he also gave the impression of being too young to drink alcoholic beverages she would take him for a child.

Thus, as they ate and drank, she told him her story. Tysha was a maid of 14. She had no mother, as she had died birthing her. Her father was a crofter, and she had lived with him her entire life, cleaning the house, washing their clothes and doing the cooking since she was a little girl. But the man had fallen ill and died a moon's turn before, leaving the girl homeless.

Tyrion also told her about his life: He told her he was the youngest son of the powerful Tywin Lannister, that he was Queen Cersei and Ser Jaime of the Kingsuard's brother, that he was the smallest in the family, not only in size, but also in importance, and that he too had murdered his mother when he was born, which his father and sister never got tired of reminding him.

But he also talked about Jaime, his good older brother, whom Tysha had seen for just some minutes, when he saved her. She knew him to be a renowned knight, but Tyrion told her about Jaime as his brother: an amusing young man that was always willing to spend some time with his little brother, answer his questions and teach him things.

Tysha had no siblings, but she said that after hearing him talk about Jaime, she thought she would have liked to have one. When they had said everything they were willing to say of their past, Tyrion asked the young girl what her plans for the future were. She looked down and after thinking about it for a moment she looked into his eyes again, answering with a shy smile: "I don't know. But if I could choose I would stay here, in this inn, with my little brave knight."

Tyrion understood that the girl wasn't ready to decide where to go yet. She had just arrived at a safe haven, and she needed to rest. Tyrion thought she looked more helpless, innocent and in need for help in that moment than when he had found her. And cuter and lovelier, too. He stood up and reached out to help her to her feet. "Come with me, my Lady. It's late, and it's been a long day. We should get some rest."

Tysha took his hand and let him lead her to the room they would share. Tyrion laid down on a bed while the maid did the same on the other one. He took off his boots, his tunic and his breeches, keeping only his smallclothes on.

Tysha took off her shoes and removed her dress, but there was nothing under it. Tyrion tried to look away, but there was something in that girl's body that made it impossible for him not to look at her. Her white breasts hadn't yet reached the size they would be when she was fully grown, but they were mature enough for Tyrion, and they had him hypnotized. Her rounded thighs and her slender legs fascinated him. Tyrion noticed a queer sensation between his legs, like a sort of tickling and heat. He turned discreetly the other way so that Tysha could not see him, and he let his hand dive into his smallclothes to ease the feeling.

He muffled up with the blanket, hoping to conceal what was happening to him. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his hand intently against his crotch, trying not to move the sheets that covered him. In the meanwhile, he could hear his roommate moving ceaselessly on her bed, trying to find a comfortable position. But soon Tysha sat beside him, on Tyrion's bed, startling him.

"May I sleep with you, m'lord? The other bed creaks when I move," she asked innocently.

"Of course, lady Tysha. There is enough space for both of us in this one," Tyrion hastened to reply.

She got into bed and hugged him. After a moment's hesitation he hugged her back. She smiled and, before he could know what he was doing, he kissed her lips. Then they pulled apart a little and looked into each other's eyes. And, uncertainly, their hands caressed the other one's face, wandering about their features as they kissed again. And Tyrion's hands seemed to have acquired a will of their own, running down Tysha's neck and getting to her breasts. His fingers drew circles around her nipples while she explored his chest with her soft hands. Their breathing became hard and panting as their hands descended and got to the hips.

Then he looked in her eyes again, with a silent question in his face. She looked back at him and answered with a smile. Tyrion took his smallclothes of, and held Tysha as close to him as he could. Then she turned, climbing on him, and they started to shake their hips rhythmically, moaning as they moved. He soon found his way in, and she shrieked. He stopped, frightened and believing he had hurt her, but after a moment she assured him she was all right, so they went on until their release, and after that they lay still and sweaty, holding each other's hand, side by side.

The next morning, when they woke up, they did it again but without the doubt of the first time. And so they did at night. It was then, when they were done, that unthinkingly, he declared his love to Tysha. And, surprisingly, she requited it. But that didn't change the fact that they couldn't go on living there forever. He stayed awake all night, thinking of what he should do. In the end, he decided to marry Tysha. His father had never cared about anything related to Tyrion, and he guessed his marriage would not be an exception. And once they were married, they could move together to some small and secluded castle that Tywin cared to make available for them.

They had been living together at the inn for a fortnight, the last seven days as husband and wife. Tyrion had bribed a drunken septon to convince him of marrying them secretly, so they were now a happily married couple. He meant to go to Casterly Rock in a few days and tell Jaime what had happened, before letting his father know. Maybe he could ask him some advice to make Tywin accept the marriage more easily. And if he couldn't think of anything, Tyrion was willing to bear his father's insults, rebukes, complaints and humiliations, as long as Tysha was spared.

But that morning he had an unexpected visit: his brother Jaime came to the inn to see him. Tyrion was happy for this and he greeted him merrily, inviting him to sit at the table with them. Jaime did as he told him, but his expression was not at all cheerful. He stared down at his feet, avoiding Tyrion and Tysha's eyes. "Jaime, is something the matter?" Tyrion asked, worried.

"Yes. Tyrion, there is something I must tell you. But it will be better for me to tell you when we are alone."

"We could go for a stroll after having breakfast. Tysha, would you mind if my brother Jaime and I went for a walk?"

The girl assured that she wouldn't mind it at all, but Jaime's affliction seemed to deepen instead of dissipate. Tyrion wondered why his brother was so troubled. Had their father found out about his relationship with Tysha? Tyrion thought that only that could explain Jaime's concern. They walked in silence for a while, until Tyrion grew impatient and asked him what the matter was.

"Father told me you have married Tysha. A septon has confessed to having officiated your wedding. But Father made him nullify it, so you are single again."

"What? But I didn't want to nullify my marriage. I love Tysha, and I want her to be my wife."

"Tyrion, I need to tell you something: Tysha is a whore I hired for you. She isn't actually in love with you."

"How can she be a whore, if she was a maiden?" Tyrion asked, reluctant to accept what his brother was telling him.

"I hired a maiden on purpose: she was going to be your first girl, and I thought it would be fitting if you were her first man too."

"And what about the rapists who attacked her? You killed one of them. Was it also part of your plan?" Tyrion asked then.

"No, that wasn't part of my plan. Tysha should have been alone in the road, appearing to be lost and with nowhere to go. I would have asked her who she was, and she would have answered that she was a crofter's daughter, and that she had been evicted from her home after her father's death. I would ask you then to take her to the inn while I found her a new home, maybe marrying her to another crofter, so that her life could return in some way to the life she had had before. I was going to leave you alone for a fortnight, and I was going to come back after that, to tell you that I had already found a home for Tysha. I would tell you to go back to Casterly Rock while I escorted her to her new house. And then, I was going to take her to a brothel in Lannisport, where she would work from that moment on."

Tyrion didn't know what to say to that: it made too much sense to deny it. Jaime was the person who loved him the most, and he had given him important gifts many times before. Tysha being another gift made more sense than her actually loving him, as nobody ever had.

"Those rapists were not part of my plan," Jaime kept talking. "So I had to kill them, because I cannot allow rape so near of Casterly Rock, even if the raped woman is a whore. The only difference it made from my original plan was that they gave me something to do during the time you were Tysha. But then you married her. That was definitely not part of my plan. I hope you will forgive me, Tyrion. I never meant to cause you this grief."

"There is nothing you should apologize for, Jaime. You only wanted to make me a present, and I liked it very much. Can I go with you to take Tysha to Lannisport?" Tyrion said, trying to conceal his disappointment and sorrow from his brother.

"Father wants us to go back to the Rock right now, so we won't be going to Lannisport yet. Tysha will come with us."

And so they rode, in a miserable silence, the 3 of them together to the Rock. Jaime with a regret that would never leave him, Tyrion with the disillusion that would mark him for life, and Tysha ignorant of what had happened, or what would happen next.

When they got to Casterly Rock, Tywin drew Tyrion and Tysha aside. He congratulated Tysha on her remarkable performance with Tyrion and, giving her no time to think of a reply, he sent a servant to gather all the castle guards who cared to take a turn with a whore.

Soon they made a queue, and Tywin took his son and the whore to a room. There, Tyrion was forced to watch as, one by one, all the guards in Casterly Rock took her, none as gently as he had, and without exploring her body with their hands. Most of them didn't even look at her: they just closed their eyes and penetrated her at that. And for each man that had her, Tysha got a silver.

Tyrion wished he could stop them, and tell them to leave her alone. Because, though she was a whore, she was still a girl, and he was certain that she didn't want to be treated in that way. Her tears had dried in her cheeks and her red eyes were too tired to weep anymore, and her moans were now of pain instead of pleasure. But, who cared about a whore's suffering and humiliation?

Finally, Tywin told Tyrion to take her. The boy wanted to refuse, but he knew his father would not allow him to leave the room before he obeyed his command. She was again lying on a bed, naked, in front of him, waiting for him to do it, and he could feel his manhood pressing hard against his breeches, and the feeling was too intense to ignore it.

He undressed as quickly as he could, climbed into the bed, moved on her, and rubbed his cock between her legs until he was inside her. Then he closed his eyes, and shook vigorously until he released the load that had provoked him that almost-painful sensation and which had made him shame himself that way. After that he stood up and left the room, embarrassed and not daring to lift his head to dedicate a last look to the eyes of the girl who had been his wife until the day before.

He didn't dare ask his father about her the following day, when he wanted to apologize to her and could not find her anywhere.

Tyrion felt tears on his eyes as he buried himself deep into a whore, but he found no love, they had lust for his fat bag with gold but not his love, they never loved him...

As Tyrion looked through the window, the sky illuminating with stars, how much he wished to have a dragon, to fly away from everyone, away from his father, away from Tysha, away from everyone, Away from his Life.

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