…and he smiled back. He honestly had no idea how else to respond.
He was pleased…confused…it was all so…
He dropped his gaze. He couldn't bear to keep looking at her, lest he find her laughing. Tyrion was immensely uncomfortable. He shifted, cleared his throat…"Well…" he began.
"Tyrion…" she said.
"No. I think it's best we forget this business, Your Grace. You are not…"
Daenerys felt her heart begin to beat. She turned away…"Not what?"
"In…in your most sound of mind. You are weary and concerned about landing in Westeros."
"I am, yes," she said. Dany played with her sleeve. She walked over to the window and looked out. "But it does not follow that I am sorry this happened."
He swallowed. This was intolerable. "You'll forgive me," he said, standing, and looking at her back. "But I'm a touch confused by this."
He was confused? Dany almost laughed. Her head was spinning. She turned toward him. "I'll be going. We can discuss this further another time," she began to walk out the door.
And Tyrion couldn't believe she would leave…"Pardon me, Your Grace…"
She paused.
"…but though I am a dwarf, I am unaccustomed to being treated in such a way."
"What way is that, exactly?"
"Well, you kissed me."
She swallowed, then nodded.
"And now you are leaving without the slightest acknowledgment of it happening."
"I said that I was not sorry…" she began.
"Well, yes. But you'll understand if I'm less than satisfied with that."
"What satisfaction can you have tonight?" she smirked.
"An explanation would be welcome."
Yes…she supposed it would. But she had none. "I need to go, Tyrion. If you are agreeable, I'll send for you in the morning, and we can discuss these matters further."
He nodded at her, not knowing what else to do.
She turned and left…
…and he sighed, poured out more wine, and sat at the table. He was pleased, confused…and couldn't decide which he was more of. This Queen was certainly confused herself. She was experiencing doubt that few monarchs in her position have.
That was it. That was the reason for this sudden display.
He lamented the fact that he had been stung by it, but no matter. He was accustomed to such stings. He was, after all, a dwarf.
Dany's strides were long and purposeful through the pyramid. She had much on her mind…and was attempting to sort it out.
Were her actions merely a result of her being unsettled? Was it because Tyrion was a trusted friend? Had she been so callous as to use him unabashedly for her own comfort, not considering his?
Dany knew that she was alone in the world, and rather accepted her lot accordingly. But perhaps she was not so comfortable as that. Perhaps she was, on the contrary, quite uncomfortable.
She missed her Khal. Drogo was always in the back of her mind…a mammoth of a man…she felt protected by him when things were uncertain, as they so often were. She loved him.
She loved him.
Dany reached her quarters and poured herself some wine. She sat by her window and stared out into the brief expanse of the bay.
She had convinced herself that there was no need for love in her life. She had given her love to her husband and the child she had carried and lost. That was her life before…to be a Khaleesi and mother. To be a proper wife.
She was unlettered in matters that reached beyond the very base of romantic love. She did not confuse physical love with the heart. Daario had been a lover, nothing more. She cared for him, yes…but not even as much as she had surmised.
Dany had thought that she was changing…that her reason and drive to obtain the seat of the Iron Throne had clouded every other desire she might have had. That she had moved beyond the need for any romantic involvement…
But perhaps she had been mistaken. Perhaps she had not moved beyond anything. Perhaps she was merely developing those feelings for someone quite outside her scope…
Perhaps everything that she had done was not because she was becoming more of a proper Queen.
Perhaps she was merely clouding her very human reaction to someone whom she had developed feelings for.
Dany closed her eyes. Could it be true? Could she have fallen for Tyrion Lannister…her Hand…brother of the Kingslayer, brother to the woman sitting on her throne…Lannister…the name many so hated…
Incestuous and power hoarding…untrustworthy and often cruel…a mad Queen, children of incest…
And he was a dwarf.
Her eyes flew open.
It mattered very little. He was not admired for his appearance, which, upon reflection, was not as vile as he thought. He was loved for his wit and his mind.
His wit and his mind…
Dany sighed. She sipped her wine.
He was a loyal friend. He was a brilliant advisor. He made her laugh.
She had loved Drogo for his strength and command.
She had cared for Daario because of his beauty and loyalty.
Perhaps she was ready for something else now. Someone to challenge her mind, which, if she was being honest, she had not cultivated as much as she would like to have.
Tyrion was well versed in so much…he understood so very much…
She sat back and thought about meeting him the next day. What would she say to him? He knew that she cared for him…that she considered him a friend…
And she was not even certain exactly what she felt.
But she knew that she wanted to kiss him again.
The Khaleesi's uncertainty bled into the very mortar of the pyramid. She had infected so many with her mood, that the morning felt grey despite the sun.
Tyrion had woke with a headache, having drank long into the night.
He was laying prone, staring at the ceiling.
He should be thinking about landing in Westeros. He should be pouring over maps this instant. He should be…
Tyrion swung his legs over the side of the bed and instantly lamented their size.
Who was he kidding?
Daenerys Stormborn would not be interested in anything but his abilities to plan and understand the forthcoming war for Westeros.
What had happened was an accident. That was all. An accident…he closed his eyes, and thought bitterly that he would have given almost anything for it not to have been an accident.
And he hated that he felt that way.
He got up and dressed, thinking oddly of Shea, the last person he had loved.
He had killed her.
He had believed that she had loved him.
And he killed her.
Tyrion sighed. There was no time nor use in thinking about any of it. It was for naught. Perhaps he should simply ignore all of it…pretend it didn't happen at all.
He left his room and walked to the throne room, thinking only of ignoring everything that had transpired. It was for the best.
His gaze was on the floor…
"You'll hurt yourself, walking along like that."
Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Varys," and he lifted his head. "What are you doing?"
"Walking."
"Thank you," he sighed. "Where are you off to?"
"Her Grace has summoned me. I'm to the throne room."
"What an unfortunate coincidence. That's where I'm going."
"Ah. Did she ask for you as well?" he folded his arms across his belly.
"No. I can wait if she has personal matters to discuss with you…though I cannot fathom what that would be."
Varys chuckled. "I am in the same situation. I was quite surprised at her note."
"Did she mention the why?"
"No," he eyed him curiously. "Now that you mention it, she was explicit in it being just us."
"Perhaps she is in love with you…does she know you are a eunuch?" he looked at Varys.
"You know, your humor really is limitless. I wish I would have had you around more often in King's Landing while Little Finger made his nefarious plans."
"What sort of relationship have you with that rogue? He is something."
"He's a knave. I tried to keep him close." They reached the room, and Varys stopped, looking down at Tyrion. "She is hesitant, our Queen. I wonder what she's been intimating to you during this trying time for her."
"Only that she is, as you said, a bit worried. She is concerned that things won't go to plan, and is surprised at her own reservations."
Varys nodded, looking down. "It's understandable that she has these questions. She needs to be reassured that she is the rightful leader on the Throne. That it is her birthright. That it is not her fault that her father went mad."
"Well, you'd best let her know, then," replied Tyrion.
"I think she'd appreciate that coming from you," Varys raised his eyebrows.
"I think you are mistaken. Varys, it'd be really marvelous if you stuck to the things which you are good at…poking in other's business, creeping in corners, and paying your Little Birds to spy for you."
"And where in that is my telling the Queen that she is the rightful monarch of Westeros?"
"Poking in other's business, I think."
"Which I'm doing now, in case you missed it."
"No…you're giving advice. And I'm…short…" he emphasized the word. "On patience. I suggest you speak with her so that I might get to my job of advising her."
Varys regained his height and smirked. "It's heartening to hear you laugh at yourself again, my lord."
"I'm no lord…" he turned away. "Just get in there," and he walked to the end of the passage and looked out of the window.
He heard Varys enter and swallowed. He was no lord…not really. He would do well to remember that.
Dany watched as the Spider enter. She liked him, despite herself. "Varys. Thank you for coming," she motioned for him to approach her and sit at her right.
"Of course," and he ascended the stairs, taking a seat where she indicated. "How can I be of service?"
"What do you know of Lord Lannister's life before his arrival in Meereen?"
He observed her closely. "I know that he does not consider himself to be a lord."
"But what of his life? Was he unhappy?"
"Very."
She nodded. "Yes," and she looked at her lap. "Yes…I thought so."
"What exactly are you asking, Your Grace?"
"I mean to understand his background from an impartial source."
"The Lannister's were always a complicated family. Brilliant, ruthless…they desired respect from others, but had no qualm with running people over to their advantage."
Dany looked at him raptly. "Not unlike most, then."
"No…but they were wily."
"As Tyrion is."
"Not unlike him, no…" he stopped. "Have you concerns about Lord Lannister's ability as your Hand?"
"Not at all. I merely…" she wondered for a moment exactly what her motivation was. Why had she sent for Varys? She knew that he understood Tyrion well. "I would like to better understand his hardships in life. I'd like to know if he is fully prepared to invade Westeros, and in particular, his home of Casterly Rock, which he proposes to take upon landing."
"Does he really? He has nerve," he chuckled. "But this is not surprising…not really…there is no love lost between he and his family. Save Jamie. He does love his brother."
"I understand that," she replied shortly.
"Yes…the Kingslayer is a favorite of his. And Jamie loves him, despite of, or because of, the Lannister's treatment of him."
"Were they really horrible?"
"Tywin sentenced him to death. I'd say that there was little in terms of love."
Dany sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "He's outside, isn't he?"
"Yes," there was a note of curiosity in his voice.
"Can you send him in on your way out?"
Varys nodded, stood, and walked down the steps…out the door.