CHAPTER ONE
Avery sat comfortably on Tyrion's emerald bed, scowling intently at the book in her lap. It seemed as if the words intentionally moved on the paper every time she tried to decipher the words. An irritated sigh let her lips as she closed the book and lay back on the bed.
Light streamed in through the open window. It was a warm day in King's Landing. It has not rained for a while now, making the streets dustier than usual, so she decided to enjoy the nice weather indoors.
The dwarf had a nice balcony overlooking the Blackwater Bay. When she finished her chores earlier Avery often sat there, watching the ships sail out to the unknown. On her luckier days she even spotted some grey shark fins poking out of the water. After that she always made a mental note that she would never go swimming under any circumstances.
I will take my chances on land.
Despite the nice weather it was a rather dull day. She finished cleaning early, since Tyrion hadn't had any company the previous day which she didn't mind the least. The Imp's room was a disgusting change after the Queen's chambers, although she got used to it surprisingly quickly. After two weeks she stopped making faces, while scrubbing the white stains off the sheets and despite Tyrion's crude jokes he was quite decent towards her. He even offered to teach her how to read. He seemed to enjoy playing the role of a maester as he showed her his handwritten books on Westeros' history, kings and dragons, while sharing his own thoughts about people and politics. She listened eagerly to his tales, hoping it would make up for her lack of education. It did, although her acquired knowledge was a bit inadequate.
Rossart was a cunt, King Aerys was an even bigger cunt and legend says that Aelinor Targaryen had great tits.
Avery decided to practice reading that day but she gave up after staring at the same sentence for long minutes. She was angry with herself for not paying attention enough when Tyrion was showing her the letters after an hour long lesson about the Baratheons. Stannis is a cunt. She waited impatiently for the dwarf's arrival to teach her the letters again. Avery groaned into her hands as she stared at the ceiling. He would be disappointed. He was patient with her until now, but surely his patience has its limits. After all he was spending his free time on a silly maid, who couldn't memorize some stupid letters.
She had been lying there for some time, when the door creaked. She sat up on the bed while calling out.
"Lord Tyrion?"
She waited for the dwarf's answer, but instead she heard heavy footsteps. Way too heavy for someone so small.
"No," drawled someone as he stepped into the room. "Apparently you are not him either."
Avery quickly jumped off the bed, and curtseyed staring at the floor, trying not to make eye contact with the knight.
There was a tense silence, before he stopped looking at her and walked to the jug of wine, pouring himself a cup. He took a sip and let out a weary sigh.
"Finally," he muttered to himself.
While he was drinking his wine Avery started to feel awkward again, just standing there doing nothing so she decided to pick up her book and leave.
"Wait," he called as she was about to escape. "I've never seen you before. Are you from the brothel?"
"No!" she protested, her cheeks flaming red. "I'm a maid."
"A maid that my brother fucks?" He inquired.
"What?" She snapped hotly. "No!"
"Then why were you lying on his bed?"
Before she could have answered he cocked his head to the side, with a curious glint in his eyes. "Do you not know your place?"
Lord Tyrion told me to do so – she wanted to answer. – He gave me his permission.
"I apologize, Ser Jaime" she said instead, desperately wanting to leave. "It won't happen again."
He opened his mouth to answer, when Tyrion entered the room. "Oh for Gods' sake Jaime, leave the poor girl alone." He grabbed a goblet as well, before turning to Avery. "What did you do, you minx?"
Jaime readily answered for her.
"She lay on your bed."
"Well, where else should she lay, dear brother? On the floor maybe? The working of your mind never ceases to amuse me." Jaime glared at him as Tyrion poured the rest of the wine into his goblet. "I told her to make herself comfortable and she did." He took gulped down the whole thing. "Outrageous."
His brother rolled his eyes and returned to his drink.
"Did you want something, my dear?" he asked Avery, who was still standing where she apologized.
She didn't want to ask her question in front of others. She was well aware that there were a lot of people in Westeros who didn't know how to read, but she still felt ashamed of it.
"I'm sure Ser Jaime and you have a lot to discuss," she parried. "My matter can wait."
Tyrion shook his head. "Nonsense. Ser Jaime has the ability to wait as well, if it's not a life or death question."
"Pretend I am not here," he dismissed.
A wave of apprehension washed over her. She nervously started to play with her dress and stole a quick glance at the Kingslayer, who didn't really pay attention. He stood up, his tall figure making him more intimidating than his nickname. The Kingslayer. Tyrion told her about King Aerys death. Treason of the Hand of the King. The Hand of the King, whose hand ran a sword through the king's back.
Jaime walked to the balcony, his armour shining in the sunlight.
Tyrion was waiting for the girl's answer, who was staring blankly at his brother. The dwarf's forefinger poked Avery's thigh.
She winced. Dismissing her previous thoughts she opened the book, she failed to read and showed him the inscrutable sentence.
"This beats me," she admitted ashamedly. "I can't figure this letter out."
Tyrion read the sentence. Scowling, he scratched his chin. "It's an f, which looks like a j." He continued reading and shook his head. "This monk had a terrible handwriting. No wonder you don't understand it.
Avery observed silently. If he wanted to believe that the handwriting was her only problem, she wouldn't object.
"I will find you another book," he promised, before he muttered something under his nose. "Something that hasn't been written with shit."
Jaime returned to the room, a pearl of sweat running down his forehead.
"I waited enough. Are you two quite finished?"
Tyrion nodded.
"Avery, would you mind giving us a moment?"
"Certainly," she curtseyed. "And thank you for your help, Lord Tyrion."
A dwarf waved it off as she fled the room. After they were left alone Jaime cocked his eyebrow.
"I never knew you had maids. Why the sudden change?" He smirked. "Whores are no longer fun?"
"Whores are always fun. But you are right, she is my first maid. It's quite useful actually. You walk around, living your lovely life, while someone else is cleaning up the shit you left behind. You should try it."
Jaime shrugged. "I don't like the idea of strangers touching my things."
"And I don't like walking in my own shit. Never mind. You wanted to talk, brother?"
"Yes. Father sends the word that you better get ready for the journey. We leave with the sunrise. "
Jaime put down his goblet to the small table and turned to leave.
"Don't be late!" he called back over his shoulder. "It's time to meet the honourable Ned Stark."
A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction and English is not my native language, but I thought I would give it a try. Hope you like it! Please share your opinions with me. Grammar Nazis are most welcomed!
