A/N: Hello everyone; it has been an extraordinarily long time since I have posted anything on this account. I suppose it is safe to say that I have abandoned my Life Among The Distant Stars story. If you have been reading that, then I am sorry for abandoning it. Certain things happened that drew my attention away from writing on for a long time. If you haven't read it, then feel free to do so and leave comments if you choose, but please know I do not plan on finishing it. If you would like to "adopt" the story, send me an private message and I will gladly discuss it with you.
My new obsession seems to have gravitated towards the HBO series Game of Thrones, along with a fondness for the undoubtedly best character on the show, Tyrion Lannister. I hated the season four ending very much and wanted to write a story retelling the ending between Tyrion and his father, hence the idea for this story and all that follow it. This story is also available on Archive Of Our Own under my same username, Ofalan96.
I try to keep my characters "in character", but there are moments in which they may step out of their canonical mannerisms. For obvious reasons, because this is a canon divergent story. I would love comments on my story and how I progress with it, but PLEASE no flaming or nasty, unnecessary comments. I received a few mean comments on Life Among The Distant Stars and that is partly the reason I abandoned it.
This is also a two chapter story, but there will be a sequel, which is also available on Archive Of Our Own.
So without further adieu, I hope you enjoy my story.
Story: Because You Are My Son
Pairing: Implied Tyrion Lannister/Shae
Summary: Tyrion Lannister has had enough. His father represents every ounce of hate and scorn that has been sent the dwarf's way. He is determined to murder his father after he kills Shae, because what else does he have to lose? His life? That is apparently not worth much. As it turns out, people often harbor secrets. And Tyrion is definitely in for one hell of a secret.
Genre: Family/Drama
Rating: T
Warnings: Mentions of incestuous relationships, profanity, canon divergence, violence/thoughts of violence
Story Type: Two Chapter Story
PART ONE
"I am sorry."
Shae was dead. And for what good cause? Tyrion sat with his back against his father's bed, tears leaking out of the corners of his mismatched eyes. He had killed the woman he loved. A whore, but the woman he loved nonetheless. She had tried to kill him, of course...the moment he had stepped into the room and she had seen him looking at her with a mixture of hurt and disbelief, she had wanted to kill him.
The look in her eyes had been wild and desperate, like that of a starving wolf trying to bring down its prey. He had been her prey. And he had killed her. Tyrion sniffled, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his tunic. He was a monster, just as Joffery had jeered to him the day they received the letter from Walder Frey and they had all learned the fate of Robb Stark, his mother, and all of his bannermen.
"Everyone is mine to torment, you little monster."
Of course, his reply to Joffery's cutting comment had not been much better or at all wise, but the past was the past.
Tyrion remembered his father. For a second, he felt nothing but intense rage and pain at the treatment he had received from him. The idea that his own father had sentenced him to die, knowing - and Tyrion knew his father knew, for Tywin Lannister was a clever man - that he had never poisoned Joffery but sentencing him to die all the same, was unfathomable. The cruel, calculating stare his father had given him after Oberyn Martell had his face quite literally crushed in had sent deep shards of pain riveting up Tyrion's spine.
Tyrion had always understood that he would never truly be accepted by his family or even most people. Jaime was the closest thing he had to family, a brother he could actually count on. So of course it had been Jaime of all people to come and rescue him. His heart throbbed a little at the prospect, that someone had been willing to save him instead of allowing his head to be put on a spike. No doubt Joffery would have thought that entertaining.
Tyrion glanced over at the wall to his right and saw the crossbow hanging from the wall. Dark and angry emotions churned through him and before the rational part of his mind could even tell him to stop, he was tugging the thing down from its placement on the wall and grabbing a few arrows. Fury was building inside him, small coals rapidly turning into an open flame.
He carried the crossbow and arrows down the hall towards the toilet, where he knew his father was undoubtedly taking a leak. Tyrion's mouth curved into a bitter smile. How fitting it would be if his father were to die, here and now. An undignified death for a dignified man.
He heard movement inside the stall as he paused outside of it. He placed the arrows in a nook beside him, took the crossbow in his arms to aim it, and gently nudged the door open.
To find Tywin Lannister already collapsed awkwardly in the stall, blood seeping out of his clothing and down his legs. Tyrion stared in shock as his father, half conscious, attempted to right himself from the very undignified position he was in.
"Tyrion," he grunted in an almost nonchalant greeting. "Put down the crossbow."
It would have been funny, his father telling him to put down a weapon when it was pretty clear he was already wounded from a weapon anyways. Instead of laughing, however, Tyrion dropped the weapon, still shocked. "What in the name of the gods happened?" he demanded as he approached Tywin cautiously, noticing the arrow protruding from his shoulder. Someone else used the crossbow, Tyrion realized with a great shock.
"Cersei is what happened." the man before him spat out, grimacing as he finally managed to right himself on the toilet. Blood was still continuing to trickle through his clothing. "I ordered her to marry Ser Loras Tyrell. She refused the arrangement. We spoke rather heatedly about it, some of which concerned the rumor that she and Jaime had slept with one another." He grunted again, shaking fingers reaching up the arrow shaft in his shoulder. His fingers plucked at the arrow but could not seem to grasp it in its entirety.
"Cersei." Tyrion echoed her name, wondering how he could not have seen this coming. Cersei had always been power hungry, looking for more ways to influence the behavior of her children. And that of her family, of course. Tywin was perhaps the only man she truly feared, and with him out of the way, she would be able to rule King's Landing - meaning influence Tommen's decisions - with no one to stop her. "How did she even manage to-?"
"She was here mere minutes before you arrived." Tywin answered for him, fingers still half clutching the piece of wood jabbed in his shoulder. "She had the crossbow, too, except she wasn't here to have a friendly talk."
Tyrion glanced down at the crossbow, wondering how he could not have noticed Cersei when he came up to his father's chambers. "Shae..."
"Cersei had no concern for the whore," Tywin interrupted impatiently. "It was me she wanted."
"I killed Shae." Tyrion said, almost as if his father had said nothing. "I strangled her with my own hands."
Tywin was silently for a moment, watching Tyrion intently. "That is alright." he finally said, with an air of indifference. "She was just a whore."
Tyrion glanced up at him, eyes brimming with anger and tears. "Just a whore?" he hissed, hands suddenly itching to pick up the crossbow again. "I loved her."
"You love any woman who pays the slightest attention to your cock." Tywin snapped back at him. "Just as any man does."
"She was sleeping with you." Tyrion said in a incredulous tone. "After everything you said to me about bringing a whore to King's Landing, you slept with one! With Shae!" Fury was once again coursing through his veins. "You are a hypocrite!"
"Yes, I did." his father answered, expression still indifferent. Tyrion could not understand it, how Tywin could be so cool and collected in the face of being wounded and confronted by an angry dwarf with a crossbow. "She was just as willing. She never loved you, Tyrion."
Tyrion blinked, feeling like he had just been slapped in the face. "That is a lie. She was mine-"
"-and you were hers, I suppose?" Tywin said coldly. "Ah, the promises people make to each other. Do you want to know what she truly loved?"
Tears were running down Tyrion's face, to his immense embarrassment. Yes, he jeered at himself in his head, cry like a babe in front of your wounded father. While discussing a woman you both slept with! The world has gone mad! "Stop it." he said brokenly, glaring at Tywin. "I don't want to hear anything from you anymore."
"She loved money." his father continued, seemingly oblivious to Tyrion's crying. He leaned forward slightly. "And since you are a Lannister, how could she possibly refuse an offer of gold in exchange for pretending to love you?"
"She wasn't pretending!" Tyrion roared, half tempted to reach for the crossbow and shoot an arrow into his father's face. Oh, why did Cersei have to have such poor aim? She could have aimed for Tywin's neck or chest, but no. She sent an arrow through the man's shoulder.
Tywin was silent again. Something inside Tyrion snapped, seeing his father staring at him with such frigidness. He leaned againt the door slightly, hating himself for falling apart so easily, hating himself for being a dwarf, hating himself for not just killing Tywin right there and then.
But that would just help Cersei, wouldn't it? And the last thing Tyrion wanted to do was aid Cersei in her quest for power.
"Why are you telling me this?" Tyrion spoke again, after quieting his sobbing and sniffling. "To make me suffer more? Because you find this amusing?"
Tywin did not answer his question. Instead, he posed his own question to Tyrion. "Why have you not killed me yet? I have provoked you, taunted you, laid blame to you, scorned you. I have done all of those things and more to you since the very day you were born. And yet, here you stand, with a crossbow at your disposal and a wounded man unable to defend himself, the subject of your very nightmares, merely talking. Talking, of all things. But you were always prone to talk, weren't you?"
Tyrion chuckled mirthlessly. "Yes, I suppose I was. I still am. And Cersei ruling the Seven Kingdoms is my nightmare, not you."
"And that is why you will not kill me." Tywin said. It was not a question. Tyrion looked at him, at the pain that seemed to be edging even more wrinkles into his father's face. As much as the man did not want to admit it, he was in pain and losing blood fast. He appeared so weak and frail now, hunched over in a stall. Suddenly, any desire Tyrion had or would have had to kill the man before him vanished.
Tyrion sighed, the tenseness seeming to be pulled from his body. "I wanted to kill you," he said truthfully. "I was planning to kill you. It seems Cersei tried to beat me to that task." He stared into Tywin's icy gaze. "But I am no murderer. And you are my father."
There was something that looked suspiciously like surprise in his father's eyes but it was quickly extinguished. Tywin grimaced, hand still fumbling with the arrow in his shoulder. "Well, if you are not going to kill me, then take me to my chambers so I can dress my wound."
And send me back to my prison cell. Tyrion added to himself. But he made no protest or complaint as he lent Tywin his hand and helped me up from the toilet, which was now drenched in blood. The older man stumbled and limped as Tyrion walked with him back to his chambers. Tyrion realized he would have to see Shae's lifeless body again as they neared his father's door. Self loathing and regret surged within him. For a moment, Tyrion paused, feeling every bone in his body ache.
And then he pushed open the door.