Chambers of Tywin & Visenya, Red Keep — King's Landing,CrownLands
Tywin had woken up early, earlier than he had planned, but it was not truly his intention. The reason why his sleep was cut short was Visenya, who had once again faced those pestering Dragon Dreams of hers. Ironically to her, being the very same dream of Winter she had while in Harrenhal.
After she had woken up and was gasping for air, she chose not to sleep again since the sun had just started to rise. She said nothing of that dream but he did not pester her either. He already had a lot to deal with and he knew if the dream was ever of importance, she would tell him.
Since he was awake already, he chose to get dressed and simply start his day early, for sleep would not come for him. He silently started to get dressed, mentally choosing to break fast in his study to earn time while he handled the latest affairs of the Kingdom.
As he was finishing getting dressed, Visenya was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching him in silence. She had thrown a red silk robe above her body due to the morning chills but also for some modesty in case any servant chose to come, like the one that just left and came straight from Tyrion.
She had not called any of her handmaidens and she was not going to for the day. The marks given to her by Tywin were visible on her skin, different bite marks spread unevenly and her wrists had the bruising from his grip the night prior.
She never minded those marks, very much aware of the rougher nature of her Lord Husband, especially when frustrated or jealous. She expected them and never complained, finding some personal satisfaction upon knowing how much she could affect him to draw such reactions.
It was troublesome, though, for it did pose a challenge to hide them. Those on her body were easy but her neck and wrists always were the hardest. Thankfully, she had become rather good at it over the many years those two had been married.
"What do you think Tyrion wants you to discuss?" she asked him, passing one hand through her white hair and slowly untangling it.
Just a few minutes ago, a servant had knocked on their door and brought a message. Tyrion had requested to speak with his father, something quite bold from his side but yet again, all their children could be bold when they wanted something.
Tywin fixed his tunic and ensured there was no crease on it as he stood in front of the mirror, his back facing Visenya. "He wants something from me. Now, depending on what he wants, he will receive the rightful answer," he said and saw her through the mirror, her face changing ever so faintly. He knew that face too well by now and if she hadn't had her sleep ruined by those dreams, he would have chosen to ignore it. In the end, he gave in to her. "Go on, say your argument."
Visenya placed both hands by her sides, supporting her on the bed as her back remained straight. "I do not have anything to argue with. Just remember that Tyrion did try his best as Hand and he did suffer in battle. He did his duty to the House as much as he could. You can be a little more lenient with him for this," she said, remembering how bitter and sour the dwarf was the night prior.
He said nothing but stared at her a moment longer through the mirror. From the start, Visenya had been kind to all of his children, being the motherly figure they needed. Tyrion, though, had taken an uncanny liking to her, demanding to be around her as much as possible.
That always annoyed his father, who still did not truly see Tyrion as his own son but could not prove he was not of his own blood. He knew that Tyrion often tried to hide behind Visenya because the Dragoness had a soft spot for him as she did for Trystan and Jaime.
It did not mean he approved or liked when that would take place.
"Hmm," he exclaimed and started to walk towards one of the armchairs to grab his black signature high-collared jacket. "We will see based on what he asks from me. If he is smart enough, he will know not to anger me," he continued and wore the last thing of his clothing. He turned to face her as he did so. "What have you planned for today?"
Visenya stood up from the bed and slowly walked towards him, her robe dragging faintly behind her as it was loosely tied to just cover her naked body.
"The alchemist guild for a start. I need to remind them who started it all and ensure their loyalty and plans are all to me, not Cersei and not anyone," she started as she stopped in front of him and began to button his jacket.
They had learnt of the wildfire used in the War of Blackwater Bay before their arrival and they also learnt who was behind it in the first place. Too familiar with the destructive power of that weapon, it was a logical thing to get it under their control once again and ensure no third parties would ever get their hands on it.
"Margaery is to go with Joffrey to the Sept. I will find her once they are back, get her to talk and continue with the plan," she added, finishing with the last button of his collar. "If the need arises for anything, I will let you know." She placed the brooch of the Hand on his jacket.
She had craned her head up a little bit to look at him, seeing this pleased expression across his face. He had a lot of things to handle, lots of idiots to control, but at least there was someone that truly knew what they were doing.
Knowing that Visenya would do her part as always, requiring no babysitting like some others. The fact alone pleased him as his green eyes averted lower to her body, catching a glimpse of his marks upon her skin.
He lifted one hand, faintly touching some of those marks as he started low and made all the way up to her neck, where his latest gift to her could be seen on the left side. There was this manly pride within him, seeing her covered by his marks and acting as a reminder that she was his no matter what.
He withdrew his hand much to her dismay, a small part of him amused by how easily she could submit to him when she was needy. The Untamed Dragon had finally taken a rider, even though she would never truly admit it.
"I expect a report from you by nightfall," he reminded her.
She smirked at him, her head tilted faintly to the side. "Don't I always do that?" she joked, keeping that smirk upon her tempting rosy lips.
Tyrion's Chambers, Red Keep — King's Landing, Crown Lands - The Same Morning
When Tyrion woke up in the morning, his head was hurting like hell and he swore he would kill Bronn if he did not need him. After Visenya had left, they had continued drinking but it was him that chose to drown his anger and frustration in the red liquid.
In the end, he had to be carried back to his room by Bronn while Trystan covered for them to any soldier they met, in an attempt to reduce the gossip from reaching their father.
Now, he waited for Bronn to come with Podrick, since Tyrion had sent the boy as a messenger. He could easily call Trystan as well but he suspected he would have his hands full now with Father around.
A knock on his door made him flinch, the sound just making his headache worse but he fought through it. Grabbing a stool, he pushed it to the door and climbed on it. He saw his latest visitor from behind the barred square opening of his door.
It was his sister, Cersei, with two Kingsguard members; Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Taryn Mant.
"What are they doing here?" he asked, suspicious ever since he was almost killed by one of her men during the battle.
"Protecting me, I assume. Will you let me in?" she asked, standing all proud and tall in her expensive heavy dark red dress.
Tyrion always took notice that his sister tried hard to dress similarly to their good-mother but lacked the grace and the beauty to pull it off. She was a beautiful woman, but the coldness in her heart was becoming evident no matter how many fancy gowns and how much she tried to be anything but that cold woman her family knew her of.
"No, I don't think so," Tyrion finally said, eyeing the two men with suspicion.
Cersei rolled her eyes at the drama but tried to remain civilised. "If I wanted to kill you, do you think I'd let a wooden door stop me?"
This made her brother consider everything for a moment. "They stay outside."
"I'm not afraid of you, little brother."
Tyrion stood down from the stool and grabbed an axe for protection. He then opened the door cautiously and allowed his sister to enter. He secured the door closed once she was inside, ensuring the guards would not try to enter. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see your face," she said and turned to look at him, even bending faintly as she inspected his face. "They said you'd lost your nose, but it's not as gruesome as all that."
"The man who cut me lost more than his nose."
She started to walk deeper into the small and crowded room before turning to face him again, hands elegantly placed in front of her. "I should hope so. The rebels came for Joffrey's head, they lost their own... Thanks to Father."
The dwarf knew what she was doing and yet he could not help but roll his eyes. He had grown tired of listening once again to how great his father was, how he saved everyone and was the ultimate man.
"Thanks to Father." He scoffed and left the axe next to the door. "Of course, it wasn't a rebel who tried to kill me."
"No? Curious." She lied with ease, playing it clueless as if she had not given the order herself. She glanced around the room, choosing to change the subject. "Bit of a comedown from Chamber of the Hand. But then I don't suppose you need much room."
Tyrion chose to ignore her for a moment and pour himself some wine. He did not care if he was still suffering from the night before. He needed more alcohol in his system if he were to survive the day that had started just so nicely.
"Grand Maester Pycelle made the same joke. You must be proud to be as funny as a man whose balls brush his knees."
"You're meeting Father today?"
He stopped for a moment and looked at her with curiosity and some suspicion. "How do you know that?" he asked.
"Because I have hundreds of spies in my employ. The Master of Whisperers owes me a favour or two" she said and when Tyrion gave her a look, she dropped the act. "Father told me. What do you want from him ?"
"What do I want from him? He's my father. Do I need to want something?" he asked rhetorically and drank some wine. "I'm sure he loves me dearly, as any father loves his child, his baby boy. Yet he hasn't come to visit once since arriving in King's Landing. I lay here, my face split in half, but Father never came. It is funny considering our good- mother managed to visit me and check on my condition"
Cersei arched a blond eye. "Good-mother visited you? When?"
Tyrion, though, was not going to give her any direct answers. "She found some time. Those that truly care do manage, as you can see for yourself."
She started to walk his way and he moved to the side, always on edge in case she tried to harm him. She had tried many times when they were younger, using even a pillow to ensure he would never wake up from his sleep.
"You're going to make me cry." She said as she filled a goblet for herself, her tone making it hard for her younger brother to understand if she was being even just a tad honest or was just mocking him.
"Why do you care what I want from him?" he asked as he moved to the middle of the room.
His sister sat on the chair. "Because you've slandered me to Father before." She reminded him, drinking some wine.
"Slandered? When?"
"You told him I had my guards beat that servant girl at Casterly Rock. You told of how I almost pushed you off that window."
"You did have your guards beat her. A girl of nine, I believe."
"I was nine, too."
"And much older when you tried to have me killed. And I do believe it was Good-Mother that handled that, not Father."
"And what's this truth you plan on telling him today?" she asked him.
He tilted his head faintly, looking at his sister while the gears in his head worked. "Why are you so nervous about what I'm going to say to Father?"
"Because you're a liar. I expect you'll tell lies about me, about Joffrey. Knowing you, you will try to get our good-mother to back you up," she pointed out, not hiding her annoyance at the fact that Visenya had a softer spot for Tyrion.
"Any lies in particular?" Tyrion asked her, one eyebrow arched.
"You're a clever man, but you're not half as clever as you think you are."
"Still makes me cleverer than you."