"In those days…days of wine and roses…there was endless summer. I was born with much in terms of hope for the future. Summer had been high for three years' time. My mother had discovered she was pregnant with me at the very beginning of that high summer I mentioned.

Tywin was excited at the prospect of furthering his progeny. He was very much a family man, or so he boasted. And he was certain that a son would be the result of this second pregnancy," Tyrion paused. "This bit, Your Grace, somewhat involves your own father. I hope it does not cause much disquiet."

"Go on," said Daenerys, pulling her legs up in order to get a bit more comfortable.

"Yes…well, it was rumored that King Aerys was smitten with Johanna Lannister, my mother. I cannot authenticate the veracity of these claims, but my father had certainly heard this, being Hand of Aerys. At any rate, I imagine that Tywin believed that my sheer existence secured my mother's affection and loyalty.

Those days, though things were more peaceful, they were not altogether different. Loyalty was a commodity, as were lives of countless people.

Westeros had its share of problems, but then, problems never really go away, do they?" he sipped his wine. "When I was finally born, my mother could not survive her blood loss, and she passed. And there I was, an odd looking babe, motherless."

Daenerys swallowed. "We both of us killed our mothers through our own birth."

"Yes, that's true. And it was not uncommon, as it remains to this day. Childbirth is difficult, and too many children are left bereft of their mother's love…" he looked at the window, the sky black with night. "I was monstrous in my father's eyes, and that was that. He was endlessly irritated and sent me away. He even attempted to marry me off to the Martells, which failed miserably. They were insulted that I, a monster, should be presented to them.

And so was my life at Casterly Rock. Avoiding my father as much as possible, while he tried to subdue the King, who grew increasingly mad. Tywin was often away from home, and I was left alone while Jaime trained as a squire and Cersei was presented at court. I had, even then, a fascination with dragons. I would set fires in the hearths, and stare at them…" he smiled. "But you want to know about Westeros…"

"I do, though this is fascinating in its own right," she smiled. "As I said, to know your history is to know at least a bit about Westeros."

Tyrion nodded. He sipped his wine. "Perhaps I might be straying too far from the point. It does you little good to hear about my fascination with dragons."

"No practical good, perhaps."

"And what sort of good would you want beyond the practical, Your Grace?"

Daenerys shrugged. "I mean to discover that."

He smiled. And he felt a tug of kind…the Queen was a bright one. He thought that her wit complimented his quite well. "In that case," he sat back. "There were precious few who accepted me, fewer still who actually liked me. Jaime was one of the only people in the world who did," he looked out of the window. "I didn't know, nor did I understand what was on the horizon after my brother killed the King. I don't think that anyone foresaw the chaos that a Baratheon would mean, or worse…what the death of that Baratheon would do.

At any rate," he sighed and looked back at her. "While most of my family was away at King's Landing, I stayed at Casterly Rock. Somewhat due to my age, somewhat due to the fact that Tywin expected me to die at any moment, and best his embarrassment died at home rather than under the nose of everyone at the Red Keep."

She swallowed. "Were you supposed to die?"

"My Lady, it was thought that I would die for most of my life. If my father didn't believe that my death was imminent enough, he attempted to see it through faster."

"So he didn't love you? His own son?"

"Look at me, Your Grace. Can you imagine a father with any pride loving this face?"

She observed him very deliberately. "Yes."

He smiled, then looked down. "You are stalling. This," he motioned his hand back and forth as he looked up again. "You are avoiding sleep so that you needn't think about your misgivings."

Daenerys looked away. "Yes, I suppose that's true. Though you were the one who visited upon me," she looked back again.

He swallowed. "Perhaps we should adjourn until tomorrow," he slid off his chair.

She nodded. "Tomorrow, then," and she stood and went to the balcony of the Pyramid, darkness obscured by the many stars in the sky.

He watched her for a moment then left, clicking the door shut behind him.

Tyrion went back to his rooms fatigued and a bit concerned. What did Her Majesty mean by it all? Desiring to know his own story! He was loathe to admit anything untoward, yet he couldn't help but recall the day she named him her Hand, not a month ago now, and how he was truly moved beyond words…

…how when, he had told her that other men would love her, he felt a jolt at it.

He was surprised himself.

And he dismissed these things in turn.

After all, he had a job to do, and being preoccupied with Daenerys Stormborn in any capacity other than Queen was not part of that job.

It was morning, and the Hand of the Queen was up and about. He had a mission to see that things were progressing. He had been idle for too long, and he meant to act now.

"You seem to be going somewhere important."

He sighed. "Good morning, Varys," and then he looked at him. "As a matter of fact, I am. I'm seeing what those irksome seamstresses are up to. They are impeding forward movement."

"Anxious to get home, are we?" and Varys folded his hands across his belly, stopped, and looked at Tyrion. "You appear to be tired."

"Perhaps I am," he looked up at the eunuch. "I'm tired of remaining idle. We are either going to Westeros or we aren't."

"What do you mean by this? I thought that you were unhappy about going to King's Landing."

"Well, I'm not thrilled. I can think of a about a million things I'd rather do than see my sister. But, this is what Her Majesty wants. So, that's what I am planning for."

"That is wise," he smirked.

Tyrion looked at him with some disdain, but then turned and began walking once more. "Varys, unless you have something useful to add, I'll ask you to allow me to do the job Her Grace assigned to me."

"Regarding useful additions, I received a word from King's Landing. Apparently, Cersei has thrown Jaime into a cell."

This stopped him. "Into a cell? What for?"

"For failing to swear his allegiance."

Tyrion shook his head. "She's mad."

"The Mad Queen."

He looked at Varys. "While Cersei could never really claim level headedness as a virtue she possessed, putting Jaime into a cell was never something I thought her capable of. She's lost her wits."

"Should the plan be altered?"

"I don't know…" he considered this for a moment. "I'll need to think on it. Perhaps speak with Her Grace."

"Of course," Varys bowed. "Time, you know, only moves one way. So best be off."

"What an infuriating individual," Tyrion muttered. He continued to walk toward the great room where the Queen no doubt was, listening to complaints or hearing reports. He wondered what her reaction would be to this news. On the one hand, this was an advantage. Jaime was a strong leader, and Cersei had just imprisoned him. On the other, it likely meant that she was truly mad. And mad people are never easy to deal with unless you chop their head off.

He walked inside to find the Queen perched above, listening to the ramblings of a fisherman whose nets had been lost during the sea invasion and subsequent dragon attack.

"Khaleesi must know that we folk are loyal to her, but that we need things…these things…to live on."

"Of course," she replied with a nod. "You will have replacement nets for your livelihood…" she looked at Missandei, who nodded and turned. Dany looked, then saw her Hand standing in the doorway. She smiled at him. "Have you news?"

"Yes, Your Grace…if I might have a word…"

Dany nodded, then dismissed everyone with a wave of her hand. She then watched as he approached her up the steps to the throne. She thought that he was likely one of her only friends in the world, and she smiled at the thought. To think that she was once ready to have him killed…"Well. What have you to say?"

"Your Majesty, it's Cersei."

"Cersei? Your sister?" her brow furrowed. She knew that things were not well between Tyrion and his family, but she understood it to be especially bad with Cersei.

"Yes, you see, she has imprisoned Jaime."

She looked at him blankly, not knowing how to broach the subject. It was quite delicate, and she had only heard a passing rumor. "I gather from your face that this is both unexpected and grave."

"Both, yes. Cersei loves Jaime…" he paused. "In a most…uncouth way. To have him put into a cell is beyond the pale."

Dany swallowed, nodded, and stood. "Let's away to my chamber. I'd like to discuss this matter a bit further," and she walked behind the throne into an antechamber and through a hall where her own private quarters were. She motioned for Tyrion to sit, and though it was barely afternoon, she poured wine for them both then sat across from him. "Tell me about Cersei."

He smiled very small, then took a long draught. "Well, she's a Lannister."

"Thank you," Dany chuckled. "I was rather thinking of…"

"Yes I know. You'll pardon me for interrupting, but it's important to know that Tywin was disappointed in all of his children, to varying degrees and equally varying reasons. But had he looked beyond Cersei's sex, he would have seen nothing to be disappointed in. She was everything he wanted in a child, save what was between her legs."

Dany blushed a bit.

He noticed, and played with his cup. "Apologies for the indelicate remark."

She shook her head. "Why has she imprisoned him?"

"I don't know. But what I do know is that this is not good. Cersei loves Jaime, he is second only to her three dead children."

"All of them…part of me is almost sad for her."

"I'm sad for her. Her wretched soul can never be at peace now…for everything good in her was to be found in those children. Including Joffrey, who was a beast."

"But she despises you…"

"She does."

"Why?"

"Well…many reasons," he sipped. "She took a lead from father, who also despised me. But then, she also blamed me for mother. For her son Joffrey and her daughter. She hates that Jaime would defend me. She was endlessly disappointed and embarrassed by me, but she didn't bother to understand why."

"Is she daft?"

He considered this for a moment. "No. But she is stubborn, and sees what she likes."

Dany nodded. This was interesting…but there was a lingering question. "Did she and your brother…?"

His eyebrows went up as he looked at her. He knew what she was asking. "Yes?"

She cleared her throat. "Were they lovers?"

"You've heard the rumors, then."

Dany's gaze fell, and she nodded.

"They were, and none of those children were Robert's."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Jaime fathered all of her children?"

Tyrion nodded then poured more wine. "Yes. Does that disgust you?"

"Well…"

"It should. It disgusts me…"

"The Targaryen family have had similar relationships. I'm hardly one to pass judgement."

He nodded. "How very generous of you, Your Grace."

"There is nothing generous in it. I merely dislike hypocrisy."

He smiled. "To your credit."

"Well," she downed her wine. "What do you think this means, ultimately? Your brother in prison…"

"And my sister on the Iron Throne," he sat back. "It means that Cersei has lost her mind completely, and that all sense has left her. It means that no one will be able to reach her now, and that it will likely result in her death…" he almost said, 'Or yours,' but decided not to. The Queen already knew this.

Dany looked away. "Yes. Well…I was hearing the peoples' concerns before you came in. However, I think that I'll see the seamstresses…I'm anxious to get going," and she stood.

"Funny. I was just going there myself," he stood as well.

"Then let us go together," she smiled, and turned.

…and Tyrion followed.