Calm – X-Mas Part 2 (or choose wisely motherfucker)
December 24th 2006 (or Tyrion's Best Christmas Eve)
Aunt Arya
The first Christmas Arya returned home was a mostly wonderful...and interesting...experience, but she preferred this much more. There was no drama, no secrets revealed, just her family peacefully relaxing at home for the holidays. The only damper on the evening was that half her family wasn't there; Jon was at his new in-laws, Rob was at his future in-laws, and Bran couldn't get away from his winter classes to come home. It was only going to be seven of them: Mom and Dad, Arya and Gendry, and the Lannisters.
In the kitchen she could hear her mother merrily chirping at Gendry about her church's woman's group. Dad was also in there, probably sitting at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes, smiling, and getting a kick out of his wife making nice with a man that was increasingly a spitting image of a young Robert Baratheon.
The other four were in the the living room, which had been jam packed a year ago, but now only held Arya and Tyrion on the couch watching Sansa playing with the newest participant in a Stark family Christmas. Arya had never seen her sister so at peace than when she was with her future step-child, although Sansa didn't know that part of it yet. Podrick Lannister had grown since Arya saw him in November when the 'Lannisters' had Gendry and her over for dinner. He had his mother's dark hair and eyes, so Arya found it difficult sometimes to remember that Tyrion was his father.
"Gee!" the toddler laughed while Sansa lifted him in the air as his hands stretched out and grabbing her forcefully on the right tit.
Then, sometimes I remember he is totally Tyrion's son.
"Hey!" Sansa playfully scolded, "that's a bad touch!"
"Mamma!" Pod laughed as his hands continued to reach for Sansa's chest.
"No," Sansa reminded him, "Sansa! Can you say Sansa?"
"Mamma!"
"San-saw!" she tried again.
"Mamma!"
"Ohhh, my silly little guy!" She said lifting him into the air as he giggled. Her future husband - although she didn't know that yet - laughed at his future fiancée.
"Why are you so bothered by that?" he asked.
"Well, I wouldn't want Shae to be upset," she answered.
"Huh?" Arya asked as she took another sip of her rum and coke.
"Ohh, Sansa doesn't like it when Pod calls her 'Mamma' although he sometimes calls strangers and pieces of furniture 'Mamma.'"
"Still, Shae is his mom," Sansa interjected with her future step-son still in her clutches. "And I don't want overstep my boundaries."
"Sansa," Arya sighed, "the boy has no idea where he is and shits his pants. I think it'll be okay if he calls you Mamma."
"Don't swear in front of him," she reprimanded Arya. "He already said the 'F-word' the other day because his father has such a potty mouth."
"He said Fudge Nugget!?" Arya excitedly mocked her sister, causing both Lannister men to laugh at her.
"Fuu-ggrr!" Pod cooed, reaching towards Arya, his pudgy digits rapidly clamping towards her now.
"Do you want Arya to hold you?" Sansa asked him, beginning to rock him back and forth in her arms, and moved towards Arya.
"Sorry," Arya apologized waving her sister off. "I'm allergic."
"Allergic to babies?"
"Yeah, I break out in hives, it gets messy."
"I think you're confusing your cat allergies with babies. And unless I'm mistaken you want a cat, even if you are allergic and even if you can't keep a plant alive for a year."
"My fern made it to November this time around!" Arya defended her valiant attempt to keep her fern alive.
I'm sorry Reginald...I failed you...I need to stop naming these ferns, it bums me out more when they die.
"I think Pod likes Arya because she doesn't pay that as much attention to him," Tyrion chuckled. "I know when I was younger that's what grabbed my attention the most."
"Indifference?" Arya asked.
"Yep, anyone who didn't like me, but didn't hate me, I was so into."
Arya giggled and shook her head at her future brother-in-law. "Sometimes I'm amazed you are as well-adjusted as you are."
"You're going to talk to me about being well-adjusted?" he said as he cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "I believe you're the one that gave me a fake name the first couple of times I met you."
"You mean like the second time and we tripped on acid ?"
"Mamma!" Pod laughed at their conversation and continued to reach for Arya.
"Oh, don't listen to them, they're just silly gooses!" Sansa told Pod and lifted him up and down as he happily laughed in her arms. She was so happy, the happiest Arya had ever seen her, and she'd be even happier soon enough.
Assuming the little shit actually got the ring.
Arya looked at Tyrion who sat comfortably enjoying watching Sansa and his son. He also looked the happiest she had ever seen him. Arya reached for her phone and sent Gendry a quick text.
I wanna talk to Tyrion about the ring – think you can get Sansa out of the living room?
A moment after she sent the message, she heard her text tone in the kitchen over her mother's voice. "Hey Sansa!" Gendry yelled.
"What?" she answered without looking away from Pod.
"I, uhh, need some help in here with...something."
"Umm, okay," Sansa shrugged, then stood up with Pod and walked to the couch. "You go sit with Daddy while I go see what Gendry wants. Ok!"
"Fuu-ddhe!" the toddler laughed as Tyrion took his son. Arya took a moment to send another text.
I know I didn't say this part, but I wanted you to get Sansa out of living room well not sounding like an idiot.
Arya placed her phone back into her pocket as Pod, closer now, continued his obsession with Arya. "Hey!You really like Aunt Arya tonight don't you!" Tyrion remarked, struggling to hold his son still in his arms.
"Having a better Christmas than last year?" she asked him as she glanced down to the menacing toddler that aggressively lurched towards her.
"Totally. No comparison. I haven't made an ass of my self..."
"Yet," Arya interjected.
"Shut up, Aunt Arya, or I will sic my son on you," he countered and then moved Pod, and his sticky little hands, towards Arya, who couldn't help but recoil. "Anyways, yes, this Christmas is much better. Far less awkward and far less chance your husband is going to be huge fucking asshole again."
"Yeah," Arya grimaced, remembering her husband's actions. "Sorry about that. Gendry can hold a grudge."
"But, why hold a grudge at me? I didn't make you drop acid," he said in a hush voiced, so people in the kitchen, or maybe his son, wouldn't hear.
"You drugged his wife, he was still pissed about it," Arya shrugged.
"And it wasn't at all your fault as well? You don't make your own decisions?"
"Hey, why are you questioning me about his twisted logic? Besides, he didn't do it because of the acid trip." And they both nodded, knowing why Gendry did what he did. "I just hope you learned your lesson."
"Which was?"
"If you fuck with Gendry he'll take a shit in your brain."
"Fucc-ddit!" Pod said, clapping his hands as he gawked at Arya.
"You wouldn't expect it," Tyrion mused as he bounced his son on his knee slightly. "I mean, Gendry is probably the nicest guy I know."
"Yep, he is most of the time," Arya agreed. "But, he can go all Hulk and just fuck you up," she mused. It was a talent that Gendry got from his father in some sense. Of course, Robert was loud and drunk while Gendry was far more subtle. Robert would scream until he couldn't anymore and even become violent if the situation called for it, but not Gendry. Gendry would give you a nickname in your freshman year of high school that would stick if you pissed him off, or, in Tyrion's case, share some unsettling information at your most vulnerable moment.
"Are you two swearing again?" Sansa asked as she strode back into the room, much sooner than Arya had expected.
"Mamma!" Pod joyfully cried when he saw Sansa again, who reached for him in turn, and Arya slipped her phone back out.
Need more time
Again, she heard her tone from the kitchen and got a reply a minute later.
Fine. But be quiet. Everyone heard you say I shit in Tyrion's brain
Arya snorted at her phone, amused by the image of Gendry's face when her words echoed into the kitchen.
"Sansa! I need a little more help with the potatoes!" Gendry yelled, far more convincingly this time.
"Okay," Sansa shrugged, then gave Pod back to Tyrion and stalked to the kitchen.
Once she was out of sight Arya leaned in close to the blond man and finally gave Pod the chance to tug a little on her hair and molest her body.
"Did you get it yet?" she whispered.
"Yeah," he shot back quietly, looking over his shoulder and making sure Sansa wasn't there. "I got it."
"Can I see it? I want to see what it looks like with the emeralds." Arya had seen the ring at the shop with sapphires, but she and Jaime were wise enough to convince him that green would work better for the red-head.
"Fine," Tyrion sighed, rolling his eyes at her. He jostled Pod for a moment, who whined as his father tried to hold him awkwardly with one hand while he reached into his pocket. "Hold him?" Tyrion asked as he presented Pod to Arya, along with a dilemma. She wanted see the final work that was the ring she helped create, the ultimate sign of Tyrion's love for her sister that she would wear until she died, but if she saw the ring, Pod might vomit on her.
In the end, her curiosity got the better of her, and she took Pod out of Tyrion's grasp. "Mamma!" he exclaimed as Arya took him, but she was strong-willed enough in the moment to not cringe or drop the child in revulsion at his statement. The child wiggled in hands, fidgeted against her grip, all the while staring at her face. He absolutely loved her in every way that one person could love another. It was all false though. He didn't know what love was, he wouldn't for a while. He couldn't love her because he didn't know her. Whatever he felt though, it radiated through him as he giggled in her arms, which was an unfamiliar sensation to Arya. She may even admit it wasn't the worst in the world if someone asked her nicely enough.
"Here," Tyrion whispered as he took a small black box out of his pocket and flipped it open. Inside was a golden ring with a large diamond jutting out from the center, with two smaller, but brilliant, emeralds set on either side.
"Nice," Arya said with a nod, and he whisked it back to his pocket, fearing Sansa stumbling upon it. "You going to ask her tonight?"
"The thought crossed my mind," he answered as he took his restless son from Arya, who was all to happy to relinquish the little boy. "Maybe tomorrow...sometime soon."
"Good," Arya nodded at him, pleased that he, and not a blond sociopath or some other douche bag would be her brother-in-law.
"Actually, on the topic of proposals, have you thought of mine? I'll need an answer by the time I head back on Wednesday."
Arya bit her bottom lip as she thought of her answer. She wished she could just say yes, but she was afraid. Afraid of failing at something she wanted so badly, which was maybe the most paralyzing thing she had ever experienced. But, she knew it'd be okay. It'd work out. Because Gendry told her so.
"If you're not happy, go do it. I'll support you no matter what."
Arya looked into her future brother-in-law's eyes and smiled. "Yes."
"Good," he returned her grin. "We can get you in about two weeks."
"You sure?" she asked. "I mean, about shitting where you eat?"
"I'm not sure of mostly anything," he nodded as Pod continued to reach for his future step-aunt. "But I am sure you'll be great."
"Thanks," Arya said, then took another sip of her drink. The house was quiet, unlike last year, and she wished her brothers could have been there. Now though, she had a new brother, and a nephew, and they were just as much family to her.
December 24, 2005 (or Tyrion's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Christmas Eve)
The befuddled little man
When Tyrion was eight years old he meet a young Jewish boy. He couldn't remember his name anymore, his name wasn't important anyways, but what was important was the fact he was a Jew. Tyrion had never met a person who wasn't Catholic, like everyone in his family, none of whom ever talked about other faiths. The idea that some people prayed to a different god was enlightening to Tyrion and he dug deeper to find out that there were over a thousand different religions in the world, each stating they were right about their very own god.
Well, if everyone says they have a different god, and the only proof they have is them saying it, I have a feeling there is something fishy going on here.
And so it went with Tyrion and God, giving lip service to his devout father when he needed to, but never believing in anything even approximating supernatural.
At this moment though, he found himself remembering his research into Buddhism and their belief in karma. Karma was the only thing that could explain Arya Stark being the 'LSD Halloween Girl.' All the terrible and deviant things Tyrion had done in his life had finally come back to him now. Pissing in Cersei's water bottle when he was thirteen, filling his high school principal's car with dog shit, and worst of all, suggesting that Shae 'deal' with her pregnancy. It had all returned to him now, at the house of highly protective Ned and Cat Stark, with their youngest daughter, who Tyrion gave highly dangerous and elicit drugs to.
How am I going to tell Sansa? "Hey, I gave your sister acid...my bad." What about everyone else? Do her parents know? "Hi Tyrion, my name is Ned, I work in insurance, you're a bit shorter than I expected, and I'd like to talk about you fucking one of my daughters and giving drugs to the other."
It had been a few seconds since Tyrion exclaimed something, he couldn't remember what, he just knew every single person in the house heard it, and he could feel their gazes upon him.
"Tyrion?" Arya asked as she nudged him on the shoulder to jar him to back to reality.
"Huh?" he shuddered at the touch and batted away her hand.
"You okay?"
"Huh? I'm okay" he repeated as he held back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. "No, not really," he stammered stoically as he stared forward, not wanting to look over his right shoulder to see a stunned Sansa, or his left shoulder to see her flustered father. "Does...does...anyone else know?"
"No!" they both yelled, then clenched their jaws afterword in regret of their mutual outburst.
"Everything okay?" asked a voice from behind Tyrion, probably Ned Stark again.
"Yeah, totally Dad," Arya shouted beyond Tyrion.
"So, umm, what do you want to do about this?" Tyrion asked the two.
Gendry leaned his head down to the shorter man. "Our original plan was you wouldn't recognize us."
"Which you wouldn't have if Gendry wore a Halloween costume," Arya reprimanded her husband.
"Shut up, Arya, not important right now," he growled at his wife. Tyrion immediately sensed this banter was the norm for the young couple. "What's important is we act cool and get through tonight like everything is normal."
"So, we tell no one?" Tyrion confirmed with them.
"Yeah, tell no one," Arya concurred with a stern nod. "But, you should tell Sansa at some point."
"I will...when I can feel my legs again. Where's the bathroom?" Tyrion asked, wanting to find some privacy to regain composure.
"Bathroom," Gendry chuckled to himself. "Through the kitchen, to the right."
"Thanks," Tyrion said, unsure why bathrooms would be funny, and turned from the couple. The situation behind him was even worse than he suspected. Ned and Rob's eyes aggressively surveying him as they whispered to each other. Bran was staring at him as well, and his eyes tracked Tyrion as he approached Sansa and her mother, who looked concerned and confused, respectively.
"You okay?" Sansa asked and placed her hand on Tyrion's shoulder, rubbing gently where his shoulder met his neck, where he kept all his stress.
This woman rubs my ugly fucking necks without me having to beg. I can't fuck this up. I can't fuck this up.
"Yeah, just an upset stomach...just want to use the bathroom quick," he said, never looking towards Cat, thinking she would be able to see the deception in his eyes.
"Oh, okay," Sansa nodded as worry filled her eyes, then looked suspiciously at Arya and Gendry. "That way," she pointed towards where he understood the bathroom to be.
"Thanks," Tyrion curtly said, briskly walked past the Stark women. Past them, he saw another red head and another young man who were also gawking at him, and he rambled pasted them down the hallway. Thankfully, karma left the bathroom door open, and Tyrion practically jumped inside, then slammed and locked the door behind him.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
His toes wiggled rapidly up and down as he fought to keep the rest of his body still. He was overreacting he knew, everything was going to be okay. Arya and Gendry didn't seem interested in talking about that evening, and at the first chance he got he'd tell Sansa what happened. Their relationship couldn't afford any more secrets, and he promised her that there wouldn't be anymore, and he was going to live up to that.
In the meantime I think I might have a heart attack...I'd kill for a Valium right now.
The thought of scourging the Stark medicine cabinet for leftover pain medication, anxiety pills, whatever, crossed his mind. He missed the wonderful numbing brought by his 'friends,' but he promised Sansa he wouldn't visit with them anymore.
No, no, NO. Don't. You have a son. You have Sansa. Don't. You are better than that...and besides, there has to be some liquor out there.
Tyrion took another moment to calm himself down and realized the best way to do this would be to complain about his current circumstances. Of course there weren't many people he could do that to...Sansa usually being the one he bitched to. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and sent a text to his brother.
Remember the blonde I gave acid to a couple of Halloweens ago?
...yeah?
She's Sansa's goddamn sister.
Well...fuck.
I know.
"Tyrion?" Sansa knocked on the door. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. I'll be out in a minute."
"...Okay."
Tyrion stood up and looked in the mirror at his reflection. He wasn't the accomplished, dashing, funny lawyer he wanted to show Sansa's family. It was a lie, he wasn't that at all, but he'd kill for them to believe that. To believe he could take care of their daughter and the three to five children she wanted. But, unfortunately, they had seen him for what he really was. He was the silly little man, befuddled with a ruffled blond head of hair, and a vacant, terrified look in his eyes. Nothing had worked out the way they were supposed to with Sansa. They didn't have the storybook beginning Sansa always wanted. They didn't have the romantic 'first time' she seen in so many movies. What they had was Tyrion lying and her dumping his stupid ass. This was supposed to be different. This was supposed to make up for all the things Tyrion fucked up for Sansa. So far though, this had been one of the worst Christmases of his entire life.
Sadly still better than listening to Cersei drunkenly complain about carolers.
Cat
Christmas so far had been a huge success with only a few hiccups. Arya was swearing more than Cat cared for, but she wasn't about to start an ages old argument on the first Christmas Arya would see her brothers in several years. She could tell Bran felt a little left out at times since he had trouble getting around, but Gendry seemed to be sitting with him and keeping him company.
Gendry..Gendry..Baratheon is my son-in-law now.
Jon's arrival was certainly full of excitement. Cat had only caught parts of Arya's rant, which had been cut short by news of Jon's upcoming nuptials. Her relationship with Jon had always been cool, but had thawed over time, and they slowly warmed up to each other over the years. And Ygritte seemed like a pretty, smart young girl – outgoing and fun, a good match for Jon.
Sansa's arrival was also eventful. At first Cat didn't even know that her new boyfriend was in the house as Sansa had not mentioned him has she ran into the kitchen and began pouring questions on Jon and Ygritte about their engagement. It was only when Ned arrived home, with Rob in tow, when she first heard Tyrion Lannister speak.
"Oh, fuck me!" she heard from the living room, and Sansa and Cat both whipped their heads around to face the noise.
"Who was that?" Cat asked the group. Jon and Ygritte shrugged, but Sansa stood up and walked towards the living room without answering. Cat joined her daughter at the edge of the kitchen and saw a short blond man who matched the description Sansa had given her before, whispering with Arya and Gendry.
"No!" the couple shouted in unison and Tyrion jerking back. As she peered around the room, she saw Ned and Rob standing at the front door.
"Everything okay?" Ned asked as he set down some plastic shopping bags.
"Yeah, totally Dad," Arya shouted to her father. Gendry and Arya both moved closer to Tyrion as they whispered to each other some more. A minute or so passed as everyone in the house watched as the three people spoke in low tones, which only ended when Tyrion swiftly turned away from them and made his way towards the kitchen.
"You okay?" Sansa asked as she approached him and reached out to rub his neck. Judging by the way her fingers deftly rubbed his shoulders, this was obviously not the first time she had done this for him.
I wonder what he has done to her.
"Yeah, just an upset stomach...just want to use the bathroom quick," Tyrion explained, and Sansa nodded in understanding and pointed him towards the downstairs bathroom, and he rushed away.
"He's...excitable," Cat offered, unable to think of anything better to say about the man.
"He's just a worrier, and I bet Arya said something to him." Sansa mumbled. Both mother and daughter looked towards Arya and Gendry, who were now talking with Rob.
"What!" Rob yelled, and Cat already knew what conversation Arya was having. Ned made his way past the couple as he clutched plastic bags from Target, Walmart, and some other stores.
"Get everything?" she asked her husband as she motioned him into the kitchen so Arya couldn't peek into the bags.
"I think," Ned grunted as he set the bags down on the kitchen floor. "I don't think you got them enough."
"They're married and didn't even have a proper wedding," she said sternly in a hushed voice so her youngest daughter wouldn't think her. "It's the least we can do to help them build their household."
"They've had a household for nearly three years, Mom," Sansa dryly added, then greeted her father with a quick hug.
"Sansa," Cat sighed and motioned her head towards the bags on the floor. "Would you help your father take these up to your room and start wrapping them?"
"Sure, but let me check on Tyrion first."
"Is he...okay?" Ned asked, clearly curious about her boyfriend's outburst.
"I think so, he's just a bit skittish." Sansa answered and turned to her father with pleading eyes. "Just be nice, please."
"Of course, of course," Ned answered, then waved away the issue with his right hand. "I'm going to take these up to your room."
As he left, Sansa followed him down the hallway and stopped at the door that Tyrion had disappeared into. Cat looked at her kitchen, which was humming with the sounds of boiling water and the smell of a feast she needed to finished, but right now she was much more interested about this Tyrion. She made her way towards the bathroom and saw he had just exited the bathroom and was leaning close to Sansa. "Hey, there's something I have to tell you," he whispered to her.
"What?" she asked as Cat approached.
"Well, you remember when I told you about Halloween..." Tyrion began, but stopped as he caught sight of Cat walking down the hallway. Upon closer examination, he had a large scar across his face and mismatched blue and green eyes, eyes which were, at this moment, filled with shame. She knew this look: Cat had three boys and had caught them with the same look. Rob in the bathroom with a dirty magazine he was 'reading,' Jon in his bedroom with Cosmo he was 'interested' in, and Bran doing some 'research' on the computer.
And Arya...in the bathtub...because Gendry was at college. At least she didn't lie to me. And where did she even get that...'toy?'
"What is it?" Sansa asked her boyfriend, who didn't respond, but instead stared at Cat. Sansa followed his gaze to her mother. "Mom?"
"We haven't been properly introduced," Cat lightly said as she sized up Tyrion and he tried to hide his embarrassment over whatever caused his outburst.
"Mom, this is Tyrion Lannister," Sansa happily said, then moved out of the way so her mother could get a full view of him.
"Hello there," Tyrion said with a broad smile and extended his hand towards Cat. "Thank you very much for having me."
"Oh, it's our pleasure, Tyrion," Cat smiled back at him and took his hand, then gave him a dainty handshake. She turned to Sansa and asked, "Could you please go take care of that thing upstairs." The sentence came out as more of an order than a request because she didn't trust Tyrion with her plan.
"Oh yeah, sure," Sansa said then quickly rubbed Tyrion on the shoulder once more before she turned back down the hallway.
"Want me to come with?" Tyrion asked with a loud gulp punctuating his question.
"No," Cat answered for her daughter. "Why don't you come and visit for a while. Sansa won't be too long." His face, which had been ashamed before, was now panicked at that suggestion.
"Don't worry, everyone should be nice," Sansa reassured Tyrion, and shot her mother a cutting glance before she disappeared further down the hallway. Cat and Tyrion stood in silence for a moment as he awkwardly tapped his foot on the ground and nervously twitched, neither speaking to nor looking at Cat. She had promised Ned and Sansa she wouldn't jump to conclusions about Tyrion...but...based on everything she had heard, it wouldn't take a jump, more like a small hop, to determine what kind of man he was.
"Well, I have to get back to cooking," she said with a fake smile. "Make yourself at home." She then strode back towards the kitchen. Tyrion didn't move immediately, but after a moment, she heard him waddle behind her through the kitchen and into the living room. Arya was still standing talking to Rob, who had been joined by Jon, Ygritte, and Ned. Cat peeked her head in to see Gendry and Bran sitting on the couch, quietly talking to each other.
Back to the kitchen, Cat returned to the task at hand. Everything would be ready in about forty minutes, the turkey, the veggies, the rolls, the potatoes...were not cooking. She was going to start peeling them over an hour ago and it slipped her mind. How could have she forgotten? She had never forgotten something this important. Normally Sansa was there with her to help her with supper, but she had started without her daughter, and Sansa was now busy wrapping presents for her.
Of course do you have another daughter that could help you out in the kitchen.
She peered into the living room and saw that Tyrion had fumbled his way into a conversation with Ned and Rob, and Arya stood off to the side, listening intently as Ned and Rob shot questions at the stranger. Cat grabbed her large pot out of the cabinet, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove top to boil. She rushed into the pantry she grabbed a large plastic bag of potatoes and the peeler out of the drawer. The potatoes wouldn't be that hard to make, but she didn't have the time to make them as well as prepare everything else.
And you haven't had any alone time with Arya yet.
"Arya," Cat meekly yelled into the living room. All the head, including a very nervous Tyrion, turned to look at her.
"Yeah?" her daughter answered.
"Can you come help me with the potatoes?"
"But," Arya stammered in a whine, "I'm visiting."
"Arya, it shouldn't take that long."
"But, Mom..."
"I can help out," Ned suggested.
"No, I need you to set up the table," Cat instructed.
"Arya, it won't take that long, and you can visit at dinner."
"But," Arya said one more time, and then sighed, moving towards her mother.
"I can take care of the potatoes," someone else offered from the side. Cat hadn't even noticed Gendry, who was currently sitting on the floor and doodling on Bran's cast. He stood up, snapped the cap back on the Sharpie he was using, and turned towards Cat. "I can help you out."
"You sure?" Cat asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Arya once called her sexist for how she divided up the chores around the houses, but Cat liked to think of herself as old fashioned. Women just tended to be better at cooking, they were taught that at a young age, and that was how she was brought up. Not to mention Ned was a terrible cook – he could barely heat up fish sticks - and Cat regretted not teaching her boys better. But Gendry didn't look intimidated, or even unnerved by the idea of helping.
And I guess I could talk to my new son.
"Okay," Cat said and nodded at Gendry, who followed her into the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of Arya mouthing 'thank you' to her husband.
Her husband...Arya...my little Arya...who couldn't even sit still for a family photo with a bow in her hair...is married.
"So, Gendry," Cat started, "first you'll want to rinse the potatoes..."
"I know," Gendry interrupted her, but did so with a polite, eager grin. "I'll get started on rinsing them. Is that pot for me?" he asked, pointing to large steel pot that was slowly beginning to boil.
"Uhh, yes," she sputtered, unable to hid her shock that he seemed to know he needed boiling water for his task.
Gendry grabbed the peeler and the bag of potatoes. "Do you have some whole milk and maybe some garlic?"
"Uhh, yes," Cat heard herself repeat, too stunned to think of anything else. Over Gendry's shoulder in the living room she could see Arya watching them in the kitchen and smirking at her mother's expression.
"Good," Gendry said with a nod and began his work. He moved to the sink and ran each spud under cool water to wash away any dirt, then shook off the excess water before he grabbed another. Cat returned to her work and checked everything, and occasionally glanced back at Gendry. After each potato was carefully clean, he began peeling, an activity Arya had never gotten the hang of as she had once cut herself with the peeler.
I think she may have done that on purpose to get out of making dinner with me.
Even Sansa had trouble with them at times, but not Gendry. His hands smoothly ran the peeler over the brown skin of each potato, rending the vegetable of its flesh, and slipped the remnants into the garbage. There was no doubt in him as he worked with a content, almost whimsical look on his face. His head popped up to look into the living towards Arya, who always seemed to know when Gendry was looking.
Maybe Robert wasn't his father – I never once saw Robert even approaching whimsical.
They worked in silence for a good twenty minutes. Gendry sliced and diced the potatoes, evening cutting each one in half, and then half again, until each potato was in eight small cubes, which he dropped into the boiling water. He had even salted it beforehand, without her having to mention it. It didn't bother Cat the lack of conversation, but she just wasn't accustomed to it. With Sansa, there was always lively banter about whatever was happening in her life: the boys she liked, the classes she hated, the new outfit she got, every thought she had poured out of her whether her mother wanted to hear it or not. Even when Cat forced Arya into the kitchen she spent half the time complaining about school and the other half complaining about peeling potatoes. Gendry wasn't like that at all. He was quiet and concentrated on his work.
"Where'd you learn to cook?" Cat asked, breaking the silence.
"Ohh, here and there" Gendry shrugged. "I always helped my mom around the holidays."
"You didn't mind having to help out."
"No," he answered after a pause and he shook his head. "It's soothing, relaxing. And besides," he chuckled, "if I didn't cook, Arya and I would starve or have to survive on hot pockets."
"So, you learned to cook from your mom?"
"Yeah. Well, mostly. I taught myself more once we moved out on our own." The words 'we' stung Cat a little as she realized that the man in front of her had taken her responsibilities of caring for Arya.
"Arya doesn't cook at all?" Cat asked, trying to hide her exasperation at the idea that the daughter she raised didn't cook for her husband.
"No, she does some. She doesn't burn the pizza as much, and she can make a mean mac and cheese. And when I cook, she does the dishes, so it's a fair system."
"Ohh," she moaned, shocked at Arya doing the dishes willingly.
Down the hall Cat heard someone walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. "All done!" Sansa announced as she entered the room.
"They're all wrapped?" her mother asked in a hushed tone.
"Yep," Sansa nodded and then looked at Gendry. "You're cooking?" He nodded slightly, which caused Sansa to giddily clapped her hands together. "Ohh good, I was afraid I'd have to eat Arya's potatoes." They both laughed as Cat gazed at them - this friendly relationship between Sansa and Gendry was new to her as well. "How's Tyrion?" she asked both her mother and Gendry.
"Not sure," Gendry shrugged, and Sansa made her way past them into the living room and joined Tyrion, who looked increasingly flustered as he continued to speak to Rob and Ned. Arya, who was sipping her drink, continued to be amused by what was going on with the short blond and the Stark men.
Cat was astounded by everything that was happening. Her step-son was engaged, Sansa was nuzzling in the living room with a man she towered over, and a twenty-something male could cook. But it was working. Her family was together, and except for an awkward little blond man, everyone seemed happy. Everything would be ready on time, thanks to Arya's husband.
"Gendry?" she asked him. "I want to go check on something upstairs...could you keep an eye on everything?"
"Sure," he calmly answered as he surveyed the kitchen. "Does anything need to come out soon?"
"Umm, no," Cat answered, "but could you put the rolls in the oven in a couple of minutes if I'm not back."
"Sure," he repeated with a smile. Cat turned and began to walk away, for the first time in her life truly trusting a Baratheon with anything.
An increasingly befuddled little man
It had been four months since Tyrion gave up his pills for Sansa and his child, but as he met her family, his cravings had never been stronger. The family that was supposed to be his haven from the shitstorm that was the Lannisters made him desire his pills like never before. The irony wasn't lost on him.
The world rushed around Tyrion as he entered the Stark den. Tyrion had lost his guide, the beauty who was supposed to guard him against the savageness of her world. She had left, and now he was surrounded by wolves that called themselves the Starks. Hungry eyes were devouring him, smelling the fear on him, circling him slowly, readying for the kill.
"Hi, I'm Jon, I'm Sansa's brother," one of them greeted. He smiled with glimmering white fangs, ready to rend the flesh from his bones.
"Umm, hi, I'm Tyrion."
"This is Ygritte, my finance." He presented his mate, a supple young wolf, to Tyrion's understanding some mixed breed of ginger and Canadian.
"Really?" Tyrion asked, taken back by this latest development. "Was that the news Sansa was so excited to hear when she walked in?"
"Yep, she was a little surprised," Jon said with a smile, a suspicious smile that Tyrion couldn't trust. He couldn't trust any of them. Not the crippled wolf, who seemed nice, or these Canadian wolves. He had to be on his toes as he entered the wilderness without his own wolf guide...who was busy wrapping presents...wolf presents.
"Hi there," said a young she wolf, his guide's sister, who had a bit of guilt in her steely eyes over Tyrion's earlier outburst.
"Doing okay?"
"Yeah..." Tyrion answered under his breath, so only he and the she-wolf could hear. "Why do you care?"
"Because well I had the last month or so to brood on meeting you again, it was just kind of sprung on you."
"Why didn't you tell Sansa before hand?"
"Because I was really hoping you wouldn't remember, and it wouldn't come up. But I guess you weren't high enough." That wasn't true actually, there was no way Tyrion could have been more high and survived. What the she-wolf was saying sounded true, she didn't want to ruin Tyrion, she was attempting to play nice.
"That's why you're being nice?"
"And...I guess I promised Sansa I'd be nice."
"According to Sansa you don't always keep your promises," Tyrion joked as Arya's eyes widened, noticing something to Tyrion's back.
"Well, you're about to have fun, because here comes my dad and my other brother," she said calmly as she followed the two approaching figures.
"Hi there, Tyrion," said a voice from behind, and Tyrion turned to see two powerful wolves, both equal in stature. "It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," Tyrion responded as he shook the elder Stark's paw.
"And this is my son Rob," the father introduced his son, who did not look amused with the stunted and feeble lion in front of him, as if he knew his pack could devour him at any moment if they choose.
"Hi," he said with a curt nod, keeping his paw to himself. This wolf was not interested in pointless pleasantries.
"Exciting night," Tyrion commented, nodding towards Ygritte and Jon, who were sitting and chatting with Bran.
"It is," Ned said with a smile, looking back at his oldest son.
"Unexpected too," Rob said with a sigh, giving Arya a pointed look.
"What?" Arya mocked in a childish voice, "Is big brother disappointed he was the last to know?"
"Yeah!" Rob grunted, "I feel like I could have been in the loop."
"Well, Jon only found out about Gendry and me a little while ago. If you would have taken the day off of work, you could have know earlier."
"Still," Rob sighed, "It's crazy."
"What's crazy? Me getting married?"
"Yeah, you're way-y-y-y to young."
"I think you're just pissy you found out last."
"You did find out last," Ned said with a chuckle, "even Tyrion knew before you."
"Huh?" Tyrion grunted, displeased to be dragged into this conversation as he had been happy to just stand on the side and quietly observe the wolves howl at each other.
"You did?" Rob pointedly asked Tyrion. A question that was also an accusation.
"Well, ummm, yeah, I guess I did. I think Sansa sent me a text right before the ceremony."
"Heh," Arya laughed, "that means you were the third to know out of everyone, Tyrion."
"I guess," Tyrion agreed.
"Was Sansa the first to know?" Rob asked his sister.
"Ummm..." Arya moaned as she thought, "no, I think our friend Brienne was the first to know. Well, actually the county clerk in Madison was the first when we signed up for our marriage license."
"Second best fifty bucks I ever spent," Gendry dryly added as he sat on the floor to the side, drawing on Bran's cast. On closer inspection it looked like an absurd work of some kind of dinosaur fighting Batman.
"What's the number one?" she asked her husband.
"Probably the original trilogy on DVD."
"What about Back to the Future on DVD?"
"Damn," Gendry said, "okay, the marriage license was the third best thing I ever bought for fifty dollars."
"You didn't buy it anyways, it came out of our shared account," Arya retorted and Gendry shrugged as he shaded in the color in The Dark Knight's cape.
"You guys have a shared account?" Rob spat out, shock in his voice.
"For like two years," Arya snorted.
"Geez," Rob said shaking his head, obviously having problems accepting his little sister growing up without his permission.
Or maybe growing up faster than him.
"How old are you?" Rob asked Tyrion, as if he knew that Tyrion was thinking about him.
"Thirty-two," Tyrion grunted as he felt the three wolfs close in on him.
"Thirty-two? Kind of old to be dating a college girl?" Rob asked.
"Rob, Sansa graduated two years ago." Arya commented.
"Well, still, he's still eight years older than she is." He spoke again before allowing anyone else to speak. "How'd you meet my sister?"
The true response was, 'I thought she was cute when I meet her at Starbucks one day after an acid trip...which I shared with your other sister...and then hired a Private Investigator to tail her and find out her hours so I could 'stumble' across her again at Starbucks.' Tyrion decided to say a variation on that. "Oh, I meet her at Starbucks when she working." It sounded like a lie as it left his mouth and all three Starks reacted as such. His heart raced as his fingers began to dance at his sides.
"And what do you do?" Rob instantly shabbed back.
"Rob, really?" Arya asked, shaking her head. "Are we really going to do this? Can you be less of a douche and not be the cliché older brother?"
Before her before her brother could answer, a shrill voice came from the other room.
"Arya?" the voice asked, and the room silenced as the all the heads swiveled to see the den mother.
"Yeah?" her daughter answered as worry appeared in her eyes.
"Can you come help me with the potatoes?"
"But," the she-wolf whimpered, "I'm visiting."
"Arya, it shouldn't take that long," her mother snarled and the room quickened in fear in the presence of the alpha female.
"But, mom..."
"I can help out," the alpha male suggested.
"No, I need you to set up the table," the den mother denied. "Arya, it won't take that long, and you can visit at dinner."
"But," Arya said one more time as she sighed and began to move to the kitchen.
"I can take care of the potatoes," someone offered to the side. The heads turned now to the man, who had been doodling on the crippled boy's...wolf cast.
Fuck this extended metaphor.
"You sure?" Cat asked Gendry, who stood in front of her undaunted whilst everyone else quivered at her, then gave him a small nod. He was in no way intimidated by the force of the den mother that shook the rest of the pack to their core. "Okay," Cat concurred as the two of them walked into the kitchen, and Arya thanked Gendry silently before he left.
"Your husband just saved you," Ned laughed.
"Not the first time," Arya sighed as she gave Tyrion a quick look.
"Anyways, Tyrion," Ned began, "Sansa said you were a lawyer." His eyes had less accusation then Rob's, but he could still feel the pressure growing on his shoulders and the desire for an Oxycontin fighting to the surface.
"Yes, I work at my family's firm."
"And it's a personal injury firm?" Ned asked with narrowed eyes. Tyrion was wise enough to see this one coming as he knew the pack made its living from insurance, the mortal enemy of the personal injury lawyer. They would forever be locked in a bitter battle over damages and tort law, an eternal battle like the mongoose and snake.
Are they wolves or mongooses...make up your mind Tyrion...mongooses...that doesn't sound right...mongeese?
"Well?" Ned asked as Tyrion's mind drifted.
"Oh, sorry. Ummm...yes, it's a personal injury law firm, but I mostly work in family law." Tyrion sputtered.
"Family law? Rob asked.
"Yeah, mostly divorces," Tyrion summed up his work.
"So you work with divorces?" Rob growled as he showed his mongoose-wolf teeth as if ready to pounce on the fledgling snake-lion that was Tyrion.
Fuck fuck fuck. Get yourself under control Tyrion. It doesn't matter that the fucking 'acid girl' is Sansa's sister. It doesn't matter you'd cut off your hand for a fucking Xanex. It doesn't matter that these people clearly have it out for you. You can do this. For Pod, and Sansa, and a drink you can get yourself after you fend off these questions.
"Among other things," Tyrion answered, desperately trying to regain some composure. "Also wills, sometimes contracts, all sorts of stuff."
"Does that make good money?" Rob bluntly asked.
"Rob," Arya chastised her brother.
"It's a legit question!" Rob defended himself.
"I assume he makes good money," Ned said to his son as he rolled his eyes. Tyrion heard the subtext of the sentence, 'he's a fucking dirty lawyer, of course he makes good money.'
"The pay is good," Tyrion admitted, which was one hundred percent true, or else he wouldn't endure the shit he got from his own boss - his fucking father.
"Something else I was wondering," Rob began to ask as Tyrion's mind reeled. The night continued like that for some time, how long Tyrion wasn't sure. A wolf-mongoose, or a wolf-goose, would ask a question, Tyrion would answer, poorly, and then try to pull his foot out of his big fucking stupid mouth. Occasionally Arya would try to defend Tyrion, but she was unable to stop the rabid attacks. They nipped and bit at him, and Tyrion lost the ability to fend them off. Then, after an expedition into wolf country that seemed to last forever, finally a glimmer of hope appeared.
"What's going on here?" Sansa asked as she reappeared from upstairs.
"Nothing, just talking," the young viscous lying wolf-goose answered.
"Talking?" Sansa turned towards Tyrion as she knew him well enough to know his 'oh shit' face.
"Yeah," Tyrion shrugged as he plead Sansa with his eyes for reprieve.
"Tyrion," she said, motioning him away from the group, and he happily followed, feeling hungry eyes feasting over him as he walked away. They smelled blood, tasted it, and craved more.
"You okay?" she asked as she began rubbing his shoulder again, her soft fingers tingling against his skin.
"Yeah, your family can be a bit...protective, I guess," Tyrion sighed.
"It's okay," Sansa groaned, and looked around until she saw Gendry in the kitchen, all by his lonesome. "Heh, Mom left Gendry alone," she laughed as lightening struck her in the form of an idea. "My mom must have gone upstairs, why don't you go in the kitchen, relax with Gendry, and make a drink or something. I'll take care of my dad and brother."
"Really? Ya sure?" Tyrion asked.
"Yeah, go, I'll take care of it."
"I love you so fucking much," Tyrion said under his breath. He badly wanted to show how much he loved her, but was afraid of the pack's reaction.
"I love you too," she smiled. "Go talk with Gendry, he'll be cool."
"Promise?"
"Yes," Sansa shook her head at him, kissed him on the cheek quickly, and then returned to her pack.
That could have gone better. Okay. You can do this. Get a drink. Make small talk. Fuck it, say cum if you have to. Gendry/Dick-Bull is cool.
Tyrion staggered into the kitchen towards Gendry's side. He was currently peering into a boiling pot, sniffing his concoction.
"Where's the booze in here?" he asked the chef. Gendry nodded his head to the side towards a bottle of rum, which looked beautiful as it rested on the counter top. "Good," Tyrion grunted and looked both ways before crossing the room. When he confirmed that no one but Gendry would notice, he opened the bottle and took a large swig. The luscious liquid burned wonderfully as it drained down his throat.
"Long night?" Gendry asked.
"You have no idea."
"Actually, I'm one of two people that really does," Gendry snickered.
"True," Tyrion agreed as he screwed the top back on the bottle of rum and joined the man at the stove. "What's Rob's deal? Everyone else seems nice, or at least less aggressive, and he's been a total..." Tyrion mumbled off, not wanting to offend.
"Asshole?" Gendry finished the sentence. "Don't take it personally. He's can come off a bit strong at first. Not to mention the way you look."
"The way I look?"
"Yeah, you have a striking resemblance to Sansa's first boyfriend, who was a total douche bag."
"Jeffry?" Tyrion asked, unsure of the young man's name.
"Joffery," Gendry corrected, scuttling around the kitchen busy at his work, and placed a tray of biscuits into the oven. "You just remind Rob of him."
"I guess," Tyrion shrugged. He wished there was a better explanation, such as 'Rob's crazy man and so is Ned! You're totally awesome (High-Five!)'
"Then again, if my little sister was deflowered in a hot tub by a sociopath, I'd hold a grudge too," Tyrion mused. He didn't remember everything that Sansa had told him about her 'love', but recalled that chlorine soaked detail.
"She told you that?" Gendry chuckled with some surprise in his voice.
"Yep. What? You didn't think she would?" Tyrion asked, annoyed this seemingly perfect husband would look down upon mere mortals with disbelief. He couldn't actually be real, at least the way Sansa described him. No one could do what he did, no one was as perfect as him. It just couldn't be that way. At least Tyrion told himself, not wanting to be compared to this man who had seemed to gain the trust of Starks with ease.
"Sansa is one of the most surprising people I know," Gendry responded, not really answering question. His shitty grin told Tyrion he enjoyed being evasive.
"She is," Tyrion answered; then, to stand his ground, he straightened his back to the top of his head at least reached Gendry's chin.
"Have you surprised Sansa yet this evening with any news?" he asked in reference to Tyrion's discovery about Arya, and about him for that matter.
"Haven't had the chance yet."
"You should, she'll want to know."
"I will. I don't keep secrets from her."
Anymore.
"Yeah, you did. You forgot to mention the fact you knocked up a client," he shot at Tyrion in a harsh tone, though his demeanor remained relaxed. He was in total control, calm and relaxed, while Tyrion still couldn't feel his feet from the earlier events in the evening.
"You're right, I fucked up," Tyrion admitted, clenching his jaw. He didn't enjoy remembering how his relationship with Sansa first fell apart, or that this man knew about it. "And she told you about it?"
"She did," he shrugged, "and so did you."
"What?"
"That night at the bar you said you knocked up a client," he smirked, "I'm not that surprised you didn't remember."
"It was a long night."
"It was, Arya and I reminisce about it all the time. We always refer to you as the Leprechaun or LSD-prechaun."
Ahh, a short joke. How fucking original.
"LSD-prechaun? That's racist." Tyrion spat, faking outrage.
"What?"
"You must call me that because I'm Irish. That's racist." Tyrion sneered. He didn't like that they were playing some kind of game and he especially didn't like that he was losing. He lost too many times already and needed a win.
"You're Irish?" Gendry asked.
"Yes," Answered and attempted to stay outraged. "I'm a Irish, Norwegian, and Danish."
"Uh-huh," Gendry nodded as he looked down at Tyrion. "Yeah...Big Guy...we called you a leprechaun because of your ethnicity," he chortled.
"I'm Irish, so it does make you racist." Tyrion reminded him, standing his ground, sick of being pushed around by everyone else.
"You're not Irish." Gendry disagreed.
"Yes I am. In fact I'm also Danish! And Norwegian, that makes me..."
"White," Gendry interrupted him before he could finish.
"Multicultural," Tyrion corrected. "You're closed minded and just can't see the pride I have in ethnicity,"
A beat passed as Gendry gave him long look, then a grin appeared on his face, and he asked, "Soooo, Mr. Proud and Multicultural, name the capitals of the countries you hail from."
Fuck. Ummm...Dublin...no, I think it's Wales. No Wales isn't a part of Ireland. Is it? Fuck. What's the name of the country that the danish come from...
"I don't know that stupid shit. I don't need to. I'm an American first and foremost," Tyrion countered, proud of himself, his country, and his ignorance of world capitals.
"Nice, I think I like you Lucky Charms." Gendry chuckled as he laughed at Tyrion, as if he were a jester sent to amuse him, as he went about checking various pots and pans filled with Christmas dinner.
"I thought you said I wasn't Irish." Tyrion asked, growing more and more annoyed.
"Again...not based on you're ethnicity." He said with a smile from ear to ear, happy to be getting the better of Tyrion.
"You're not being nearly as nice as Sansa promised," Tyrion wryly commented.
"Well," Gendry chuckled again, "I'm the only person in this house actually pissed at you."
"What! Why? What did I do?"
"Nothing," Gendry shrugged, "ya know, except that one time you slipped Arya acid behind my back."
"I didn't slip Arya anything, she took it happily," Tyrion spat back, annoyed at the accusation, which was complete bullshit.
"I don't know what happened because you waited until Jamie and I left the table. So I have no idea what you did."
"Hey, Big Guy, it's not my fault you couldn't keep your girlfriend in line."
"No one keeps Arya in line."
"Well then, I guess she was just being herself. With me and not you," Tyrion shot, unwilling to lose to Gendry. He didn't know what winning would be here, but at this point losing would be not acceptable. Rob Stark already beat him at a similar game, Cat probably already made her mind about him and Ned Stark thought he was a babbling idiot. This fucking guy was not going to get the best of him too.
"Don't," Gendry sternly responded as he narrowed his eyes.
"Don't? Don't what? Big Guy."
"Don't play with me. We were having fun before, but don't."
"And why not?"
"Cus, one, you'll lose, and two, you are pilgrim in an unholy land. So now is the not the time to fuck around with me."
I know that 'Pligrims' quote...ummm...not Raiders...
"First of all, is that from 'The Last Crusade?'" Tyrion asked as he took a step closer to Gendry so they were face to face, or at least face to upper chest region. Gendry nodded, and Tyrion couldn't help but smirk. "Nice quote, but I think you overestimate your own abilities. I. Am. Unflappable." It was a bullshit, but great sounding bullshit, Tyrion's greatest variety of bullshit.
"No one is unflappable, so just stop. I'm willing to let it bygones be bygones, so choose wisely, motherfucker," Gendry told Tyrion, then turned his back to him to tend to the potatoes.
You started this asshole. You don't get to end it just 'cus.' And don't fucking turn you're back on me.
"There is nothing between us. So there are no fucking bygones," Tyrion countered, poking him in the back, his finger sinking into Gendry's side sharply. Gendry tensed at the poke and Tyrion could see him slip a little. His grip tightened on the handle of the oven, his breathing grew rapid, and a deep and almost ominous growl emitted from his throat. He spun around and looked down at Tyrion, who realized that this giant could eat him in he choose to. The was silence between them as Gendry who had been smiling the entire time before was now grimacing.
"Tonight should be interesting," he smirked, and went back to his cooking as he regained control of himself. "This is the first time in a long time all the Starks have been together and everyone has changed. I mean, Cat is even talking to Jon now...did Sansa ever tell you about Jon and Cat?" Tyrion opened his mouth to answer, but Gendry didn't allow him to. "They used to be at each others throats. At first I always thought it was just because Jon was like Arya, vulgar and unruly, but that wasn't it. And then one day I came into this very kitchen and overheard Cat and Ned arguing about Jon. And she used the phrase 'your son,' and not 'our son.' You know why she said that? Because Jon isn't her son, he's Ned's, from his first marriage. She could never forgive him for that. She could never forget that Ned had a son with another woman. That her perfect marriage was sullied before it even happened." Gendry paused and stared at Tyrion, who didn't respond. He was asking if Tyrion wanted more, giving him a chance to yield.
Fuck this guy. Bring it, Mr. Dick-Bull Shit For Brains.
"But, it all turned out okay, I mean Cat has finally warmed up to Jon...it only took twenty plus years, but she did." He again gave Tyrion a long stare, but he said nothing, because nothing Gendry could say would get to him. He was done being this families' chew toy.
"I wonder how long it will take her to warm to your son."
"What?" Tyrion exclaimed, his heart sinking at the words 'your son.'
"She loves kids, more than anything else. She will probably try to bribe me with Christmas cookies to give her the first Stark grandchild. But your son, he'll be a little bastard to her." Tyrion winced as Gendry struck something deep within him that he wasn't even fully aware was there. "She'll know that he was a mistake you made."
Tyrion was stunned, physically and mentally. He wanted to tell this guy to fuck off and storm away, but he couldn't move or speak. And worst of all, if he suddenly screamed at Gendry, he'd look like the crazy one.
Gendry wasn't done, but he seemed to be taking no pleasure in ass-fucking Tyrion's soul. "At least Sansa didn't take after her mother in that way. She's more forgiving, more understanding. But, she does take after her mother. Ya know, they both have that little splotchy birthmark on their tit."
"Wait, what?" Tyrion finally spoke up, his mind raw from his son being called a bastard, now violently reacting to Gendry's knowledge of birthmarks.
"The weird thing is Arya doesn't have it. But, she has always taken after her father. I mean, they both have a similar little mole on their inner thighs."
"Wait, what!?" Tyrion nearly shouted, more rattled than he would like to admit. A second ago he was calling Pod a bastard and now he was taking about all naked features on the Stark clan. Tyrion's mind reeled at the sudden change of topic.
Gendry looked over Tyrion's shoulder and caught a glimpse of something, then looked down at Tyrion, who felt like a very little man at this moment. Gendry looked down the hallway and with a wide grin said, "Everything is good." Tyrion spun around to see Cat Stark reappear.
"Thanks, Gendry, you're a godsend," Cat smiled at Gendry, and then looked at Tyrion and her face flattened from a smile to a grimace. "And how are you doing?" she asked, sounding annoyed with Tyrion's very presence.
"I'm, umm..."
Fucking furious at the cock sucker and pissed that I let him win, and my brain is on fire asking how and why he saw you and your husband naked. And fuck I want my fucking pills.
"...Good." Tyrion sputtered.
"That's good, dinner will be ready soon," she said to him as she brushed past him to the kitchen and whispered something to Gendry. They began to cook together and gossip about Tyrion right in front him.
Fuck this family.
The stress had finally gotten to Tyrion, his shoulders were thoroughly pulverized by Gendry's emotional and physiological assault. Talking about his son was maybe the cruelest thing Tyrion had ever heard, but the fucking asshole then added the unsettling news that not only had he seen Sansa naked, which Tyrion did already knew but didn't wanna talk about. But... that he had seen her parents naked as well...
What? Why! Huh!? Eww! What the fuck is with this family! What the fuck is with this place! Is this house on top of a burial ground!
Tyrion had to get away. He had to get way from Gendry or scream at him, which wasn't a good option. He stalked down the hallway towards the staircase and he regretted fucking with Gendry, as he boiled with rage at him.
I chose...poorly.
He found himself upstairs in a long dark hall filled with rooms. He didn't know what he was doing, just knew he had to be by himself for a moment. The wolves had gnawed off his jugular and Gendry had pissed on the remains. He had nothing left, the world was caving in around him, and he stumbled into a room and flicked the light switch on.
Yes, it's the bathroom.
The door slammed behind him and he made sure to lock it, then he flung open the medicine cabinet. Someone was bound to have had their wisdom teeth out and didn't use all the Vicodin. Ned was surely on some kind of anti-depressant considering his wife. There had to be something. As his eyes scanned, his chested heaved, and he began to feel light headed. The booze he so happily downed earlier finally caught up to him on a empty stomach.
"Fuck me," he groaned and slammed the cabinet shut as his search ending in vain, a pathetic search that a pathetic man shouldn't have even started. His eyes began to wander around the room to the plunger besides the toilet, some hand lotion on the counter, a bottle of mouth wash. There was nothing for him...or was there?
There was, of course, his oldest drug. Maybe the greatest drug of all time and he could still obtain that. Given some privacy at least. He had the ingredients in the bathroom too.
Yeah, it'd be okay. He just needed six minutes and some alone time.
Sansa
"What were you guys doing to him?" Sansa asked her brother and father.
"Nothing," Rob shrugged as his eyes followed Tyrion out of the living room into the kitchen towards Gendry.
"If 'nothing' means 'interrogate,' then yeah, totally," Arya chuckled with her eyes on her husband, who was tending to the kitchen, and currently seemed to be pointing Tyrion in the direction of the liquor.
"We were just asking him a few questions," her father answered, mumbling at the end, confirming Sansa's suspicions.
"Really? You two just couldn't help yourselves?"
"We just want to know more about him," Rob weakly offered as he averted his gaze away from Sansa's glare.
"Or make him piss himself, whichever happened first," Arya snickered.
"It wasn't that...bad..." Ned tried to defend himself, but it came out just as weak as Rob's.
"Could you two please be nice? I really, really, like him."
"Him?" Rob asked.
"Shut up," Sansa spat out.
"Yeah, you two should give him a chance, he's a pretty cool guy," Arya offered.
"How would you know? You just met him," her father asked.
"Well...yeah..." Arya began to whimper as she began to twirl her bangs between her fingers. "I mean, he seems cool."
Sansa examined her sister, who was suddenly fidgety and awkward, as if she was hiding something, probably about Tyrion. At the same time though, she was defending Tyrion, which was encouraging, meaning she at least had help convincing everyone else. "Yeah, please, please, please give him a chance," she begged as she gave Rob a quick look, but then focused on her father.
"We are," Ned said, but then shrugged, "but we'll be a bit more...gentle."
"Yeah, I guess," Rob whined, but appeared to break under Sansa's glare.
"Good, I'll go get him," Sansa said, but Arya reached out her hand to stop her and tilted her head to Sansa's ear.
"Rob and Dad just scared the crap out of him with a fun game of twenty thousand questions, just let him chill in the kitchen with Gendry for a sec."
"You sure?" Sansa whispered back.
"Yeah, totally, Gendry will make him a drink, everything will be cool."
Sansa looked up and saw Gendry and Tyrion chatting mildly in the kitchen, Tyrion with a bottle in his hand.
Tyrion is probably a lot safer with Gendry.
"Okay," Sansa whispered back and the two girls turned back to Rob and Ned and gave them curious looks.
"Talking amongst yourselves?" Rob asked, and Ned smiled at his daughters, gossiping with each other.
"Just discussing how you still haven't brought your girlfriend over for us to meet," Arya said. Sansa loved her sister and her ability to change the subject.
"Yeah, Rob," Ned turned his son, "why didn't you bring Jane along?"
"Well-l-l-l," Rob shrugged. Luckily Tyrion was not the topic of conversation, which was, in Sansa's mind at least, a step closer to him joining the family. Rob began to babble about how he and Jane didn't want to get serious yet, and how there was this other girl at work named Talisa he kinda liked, but everyone said he should be with Jane, and so on. Sansa heard the words but didn't listen as her attention was drawn to Tyrion, who was pacing around Gendry in the kitchen as they appeared to be having a heated argument. Gendry said something, and then turned his back on Tyrion, who in turn walked up right behind Gendry and jabbed him in the back to get his attention.
Well, that doesn't appear to be going well...
Gendry spun around, his fist tightening, and Sansa feared people the worst, as other conversations swirled around her.
"Rob, you just have to settle down with a girl," Ned advised his son.
"Totally," Arya agreed, chiding her brother. "Don't ya think Sansa?"
"Uh?" Sansa grunted looking back towards the group. "Yeah, totally, Rob," she muttered, not exactly sure what she was agreeing to.
"I guess," Rob shrugged, "I just felt like I am not supposed to end up with Jane."
"Who then? That Frey girl you dated in high school?" Arya asked. "Didn't you end up getting food poisoning at her house?"
"Yes," Rob groaned, "I got violent food poisoning at the Frey's...something I'm sooo glad you found out about, Arya."
As her brother and sister went on, Sansa turned back towards the kitchen to see Tyrion pale as he stared blankly at Gendry, who continued to cook. She couldn't hear whatever they were saying over the noise of everyone else talking. Her mother reappeared from upstairs, said something to Gendry and Tyrion, and returned to cooking. Tyrion, looking like he had just been slapped across the face, hastily went down the hallway towards the stairs.
Instinctively, began towards the kitchen, but Arya stopped her. "Let me go," she whispered to Sansa.
"What happened?" Sansa ask, looking back towards Gendry.
"I don't know..." Arya sighed as if she was lying about not knowing something again.
"What's up between you and Tyrion?" Sansa finally asked her sister.
"It's...complicated...and something I wanna tell you about, but not around everyone."
"What's going on girls?" their father asked on cue as if to prove Arya's point about privacy.
"Nothing, Dad," Sansa said, and Arya nodded, then they leaned their heads back together.
"What happened with you and Tyrion?" Sansa asked.
"It's a long story..." Arya sighed.
"Does it involve Halloween? He mentioned that before, but then mom saw us and he clammed up."
"Yes, it does, but let me just go talk to Gendry, then I'll talk to Tyrion, and then when we have a minute we'll talk to you."
"Okay..." Sansa reluctantly agreed. She didn't like being kept in the dark about something that at least happened in October, but saw no other option that didn't involve awkwardly confronting Tyrion, which was the last thing she wanted to do on Christmas.
"I'll be right back," Arya said with a quick nod, then scurried off to the kitchen. Sansa wandered over to the couch and chatted with Bran, Jon, and Ygritte. They were talking about seeing a movie tomorrow night, Ygritte's new job, how her parents reacted to the news. Sansa nodded her head and pretended to listen, but tilted her head to see into the kitchen. Arya stopped and talked to Gendry for a moment and they whispered to each other for a few seconds. Gendry seemed dour over something, Arya annoyed, and it looked like Gendry was apologizing. Arya shrugged her shoulders as they finished, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and hurried down the hallway towards the stairs.
Minutes past and Sansa grew impatient. "Where's Tyrion?" Bran asked.
"Ohh, just getting some fresh air," she lied, "I think Rob and Dad freaked him out a bit."
"It happens, why do you think I kept her away for so long?" Jon joked as he gestured at Ygritte.
"We aren't that bad," Rob sighed as he meandered over towards the group.
"Yeah, we just have to make sure he's good enough for you, Sansa," Ned agreed.
"Oh, good," Sansa hissed, annoyed by her father's explanation of his behavior and whatever was happening upstairs. "Because 'just making sure he's good enough for me' doesn't sound condescending at all."
The entire group jolted at Sansa's sarcastic remark. Jon and Rob traded glances and everyone else looked bewildered.
"I don't mean it that way..." Ned lightly apologized.
"I know, I'm sorry for being snappy...do you guys still keep the Advil upstairs in the bathroom?"
"Yeah," Ned nodded.
"I'm going to go get some, I think I have a headache," she lied, knowing it was the most convenient excuse. Everyone nodded at Sansa and she made her way out of the living room.
Vaulting up the stairs, she heard some noise coming from the second floor, two muffled voices as a door opened. It was Arya and Tyrion laughing about something.
Hopefully Arya made progress and I can find out what's doing on.
Sansa made a turn and couldn't keep herself from yelling, "What the fuck?!" Tyrion stood there, without pants or underwear, but with an incredibly erect penis as he held out a bottle of pills to Arya.
"Oh...great," Arya moaned.
Leopold's Soap Box:
Face forward True Believers! Like my new catch phrase? I just thought it up.
I had no feel for Rob as I wrote him, so sorry if he sucks. If I could go back in time I'd have him go to Frey House for dinner and die from a terrible, lethal case of food poisoning. Which is a shame, because Rob is a cool character, but I just got nothing for him in this story.
Do you crave some more Leopold846! Well I have something for you! I have begun work on the companion piece to this story Fantasies (or Reality), that tells Sansa and Tyrion's story. Want to hear how Tyrion met Shae? What happened with Sandor and Sansa? Or, in the next chapter how Sansa ended up in a hot tub with Joffery, in a chapter called 'Chapter Two (or I don't even open my eyes in the pool)'
'Nuff Said.
It is kind of a shame, because I heart Arya and Gendry, but I think my other story will better in the long run. In no small part it's because this story has made my writing and story telling better. So, thank you all for being my fanfiction fluffers and making my writing firm and strong. (Now, here's my question. I say a lot of random shit, and I think there are usually four normal responses – laughter, not laughter, disgust at my statement, or confusion. I'm okay with that, but what I'm curious about are the proportions of this responses. On average, I would guess like 40%, 10%, 25%, 25%)
Next time – Things go more smoothly for Tyrion, after explaining to Sansa why he's half nude with Arya, with pills in his hand. The Stark kids get to know each other a bit better, and Gendry tries to make amends with Tyrion – all that, and maybe a cliffhanger, in Calm – Xmas Part 3 (or that's not proportional)
Excelsior!