The words held so much hate…so much malice. What did he ever do to deserve such words, especially from his own blood?
Oh yes, he remembered as he heard his fathers' voice ringing in his ears. He had killed his mother so he, a wretched malformed half-of-a-man, could come into this world. He entered his chambers and let the door slam shut, locking it behind him. Suddenly disgusted with everything he was, he kicked a nearby stool and collapsed near the vanity. Staring at the scar on his cheek, he felt his eyes well with tears which he hastily wiped away.
"Tyrion?" The voice startled him and he jumped up to see its' keeper. Shae was sitting across the room; she must have already been there when he came in. "What did your father say about Casterly Rock?"
"I don't want to talk about it." He sighed and sat down on his bed. She knelt before him and took his hands.
"It should be yours you have a right to it."
"He said he would rather be consumed by maggots then make me heir to it. And those were some of his kinder words." He felt the stinging in his eyes again and drew in a shaky breath.
Shae put her hand on his cheek, gently tracing the raw skin. "Your father has a cruel heart." He scoffed and wiped his eyes.
"That is to say the least." He cleared his throat and attempted to clear his emotion. It was foolish to be this upset; he was used to being treated like this. But it seemed as though the past few weeks were finally taking their toll and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on. "You should go. He said the next whore he found in my bed he would hang. I could not bear to let anything happen to you." He sniffed ruggedly.
"Tyrion," she clasped his face in her hands and smiled softly, "One does not weep because one is weak. One weeps because they have been strong for too long." She ran her fingers through his hair and watched his walls come down.
"I'm sorry," he wept and buried his face in the warmth of her neck. "I'm just tired."
"I know." She brought his head up and wiped away his tears with her thumb. "You are," she pulled him close and kissed him gently, "the strongest man," another peck, "that I have ever met." She pushed him lightly onto the pillows and let her dress slip from her shoulders. "It will be ok." She whispered as she ran her lips slowly down his neck.
"What would I do without you?" he drew her face in and their lips crashed together tenderly. He felt like he belonged with her, like he was not an outcast or a dwarf. Like that fresh, ugly scar disappeared whenever she was with him. He was home; he was with his true family.