Meereen: Day 4

He awoke with his arms around her, enveloped by the soft light of an early hour.

Sansa some nights had nightmares and he comforted her until she quieted down, and then they made love, chatted or fell asleep again almost immediately, depending on their mood or the degree of tiredness they felt.

Sansa had consulted him the previous afternoon if he thought it was still soon to have a child.

"What do you think, darling?," had asked him.

"I don't know, I'm not clear about it. Perhaps those doubts mean that it's not the moment yet," said her, smiling to prevent herself from turning melancholy.

"Then no more talk. Don't worry about it. You're very young and can wait, and me too. I'm not as old as you think," joked him.

"How old do you believe I think you are?," blurted her, with her mischievous tone.

"You're a rascal. You mess me up so I show myself up. Clever girl."

"Come here, oldie. Prove to me how old you're," needled Sansa.

He had tickled her until she pleaded with him to stop and then he had pinned her to the bed. She felt surprised and excited by the unexpected strength of his small body, and he was aware of that. He had made love to her once more before going to the Council meeting of that evening.

Perhaps thanks to that he was so full of energy and his mind bustled with activity when they had discussed the most crucial matters on which depended the well-being of Meereen. He was so happy that he felt all his physical and intellectual faculties in their full measure. And that taking into account that his physical faculties were not precisely outstanding.

He was smiling for himself, when he suddenly remembered that he would have to tell her about the subject of his father when she woke up. His smile soured a little.

You never had a sense of humour, father. You didn't like to laugh. Another of your gifts was to succeed in preventing everyone from laughing around you.

You laughed with mother when she was alive? Or you also stole her laughter?

He never could find out.


Sansa opened her eyes and met his gaze. He stayed lying beside her though he must have been awoken for a while. She saw something in his eyes which alarmed her a bit.

"What's the trouble, Tyrion?," she asked, with her early hoarse voice of the morning.

"My father is dead, Sansa."

She fell silent, perplexed. She stared at him in silence for a minute.

"Did the queen tell you?" Her look was prudent and did not reveal anything.

"Yes. Last night, in the meeting. She told me that, as it seems, he died in his sleep. There were no signs of violence."

"But you don't believe that."

"No, I don't believe that."

"I know you were awake until late. I hope you have found your peace." She rested a hand on his cheek, the familiar gesture that melted him.

"I found it, my love." He looked at her in amazement. She did not offer him fake condolences, or said to him an "I'm sorry" that she did not feel really. Neither asked anything else, simply left her hand resting on his cheek and did not tear her eyes from his. His young wife understood him without words. He did not speak more about Tywin, but he knew that she understood, at least what was related to the uncertain and chaotic situation of Westeros and the drastic turn which the absence of her hated father-in-law implied, even from that distance. She also understood his confusion regarding what he ignored he should feel.

He loved her more than ever. He squeezed her hand, touched.

"And the rest of the matters? Have you made something clear?"

He narrated her all they had debated before Tywin's news.

"You're amazing," praised her, caressing his cheek. "And you say that captain Daario Naharis is seducing the queen?" She could not help her curiosity.

He shot her a mocking look.

"With all his insolence. That man ignores what complexes are."

"You think he'll be successful?"

"Undoubtedly. You should have seen how she reacted. In those moments she looked merely like a young girl in love."

"Don't all women in love look like it?"

"The truth is that you all do. You blaze it, dear."

"Do I become so obvious?," needled her, seductive.

"I'm convinced that in a short while there will not be a single soul in Meereen who doesn't know that you have a great crush on me," said him, cocky.

"Really? You think they know in Yunkai, Astapor and, by the way, in Asshai?"

"Surely. Soon they'll sing songs about the beautiful princess infatuated with a dwarf."

She hit him with the pillow and he tickled her to stop her until them both fell on the bed roaring with laughter, and a shocked Mhyraz found them playing the fools like kids when he arrived with breakfast.