Tyrion

"And Tyrion, send a raven to your son, I need him here."

Those are the last words his father said to him before leaving for King's Landing to act as the Hand of the King, for his useless nephew, Joffrey. On the road, Tyrion's mind whirled to the things he needed and should do at the capital to somehow rectify the chaos that is emanating at the court right now. The war, the corruption, the disorder, that can be primarily attributed from her dear sister and nephew who had been tearing the realm apart from the day the latter took off Ned Stark's head from his body.

May the Gods help me

As far as he is concerned, taking the right measures will not cure the entirety of the sickness of the court as he expected that Joffrey would only permit him or barely listen to him so much as the boy did not even listen to his mother nowadays.

It's her fault for making her son a monster of his own kind

His mind drifted to his own son, Tyus. The memory of the boy immediately brought a smile to his face as he remembered their times together back in the rock. When Tyus is with him, he is a witty, jolly, good lad. Well, more silent than himself as he is the one who do the talking and joking, while his son is more reserved, snorts and quiet laughs but his shots and japes are the best. Conversations usually ranged from history to the name of this lady who Tyrion caught staring at his son like he is a new dress for an upcoming tournament.

But Tywin's hold to his grandson also concerns Tyrion. Whenever his stern father is around his cub, the latter's demeanor changes. From a warm, easy going bright boy into a cold, cunning, unpredictable and justly cruel lord, his son suddenly becomes the heir apparent to Casterly Rock, as he thought that it is what his father is grooming Tyus for. His son, in return, accepted the old lion's challenge in honor of his father- the imp. Tyrion cannot be prouder of what a man his son has become, aside from his attempt to clean his father's name by making the imp spawn a force to be reckoned with. To give the impression that Tyrion did at least one right thing in his life which is Tyus.

Whatever my little boy will do or achieve, they will always think of me as such. A failure

Now that his cub is in his father's grasp now, Tyrion just hopes that his son will still be his son when they meet again.

Tyus

"Lord Tywin- ... Grandfather." He immediately corrected himself followed by a smooth bow.

"Tyus."

He noticed a small and scruffy girl at the other side of the solar hesitantly taking her leave but Tywin meant for her to stay. "My cup bearer, a bright little one. Even brighter than my men."

Tyus slightly bowed to greet the cupbearer while he took a seat as motioned by his grandfather, who stares at him intently. He quickly noted that he is currently under inspection rather than scrutiny as to whether he will pass his approval of bearing their family name and words that are highly regarded as ever. He held his gaze as he raised his chin and wore a neutral expression until he noticed a small flicker of approval in Lord Tywin's eyes. Then he is suddenly surprised.

Tywin Lannister smiled

But it was more of a smirk. You can only just receive such from him.

"Why have you summoned me? Milord."

"You are my grandson, Tyus."

"- Grandfather." He almost stammered while correcting himself, again. Although his own expression didn't change on the outside, he has his palm on his face inside.

"As I've said, you are my grandson. And as you can see, I sent your father to the capital for your cousin's aid, His Grace, before he made another grave mistake." He spat the last words as he continued. "You are here-

"To help rally our forces in the battlefield to ensure victory for our house, grandfather."

Lord Tywin slightly shifted in his seat "It is just the right time for you to get out of the rock, and experience the heat of battlefield, Tyus. I'm afraid that sitting in that seat I gave you might have dulled your senses."

The young Lannister quietly snorted the attempted jape. On his 13th name day, his grandfather gave him a seat on the rock's council affairs, concerning a portion of the port's trading ships, as Tywin acknowledged his fascination for ships and diplomacy. The people perceived the act as the imp spawn is following his old man's footsteps, given that his father had managed other affairs in the rock during his younger years. Tyus smiles whenever he hears that tale.

"The young wolf had already taken parts of the Westerlands, which is rightfully ours. While Stannis is at Dragonstone, attempting to knock at the Red Keep anytime soon, as far as I know, they can barely handle the incoming attack. Also, our numbers are wearing...thin. We could only face one after another."

"I heard about the Tyrells."

"Yes, and they will demand a reward."

"But you did the right thing," Tyus stated.

"...if, they accept."

A Lannister man arrived and interrupted the discussion looking disoriented. "Apologies my lord, but a raven arrived from King's Landing."

A/N: Aside from the fact that I don't own any of these (except the OC), this is my first fic. Hope It's fine.

Cred to GRRM, D&D and company.

Ps. It is based on the TV series as I hope to continue this until it reaches post-season 6. More like quenching the thirst.

This story starts with Season 2, when Tywin camps in Harrenhal and about to go to King's Landing.

The OC's name is pronounced as (Tie- use), son of Tyrion but grew up under Tywin's tutelage. Although the boy is taken from him, Tyrion didn't stop taking care of his son. The result is that his whoring was lessened, but it was still there, especially when Tyus was old enough to understand what he's doing.

This was just a very brief prologue. Don't worry there's more to come x