Tyrion was not about to wait for his father to send for him. He held off until the day after his wedding night, but the next morning he made his way to the hand's chambers. He came upon his father bent over the large, imposing desk. Tyrion had always hated using this piece of furniture-it always seemed so daunting to him. However it fit his father perfectly. Tywin was scratching away at some paper and didn't even register his son entering. Tyrion took the seat on the opposite side of the desk and waited.
After a few tense moments, Tywin spoke in a gravely tone without raising his eyes. "What do you want?"
Tyrion chewed on his lip exaggeratedly. He was coming here to sell the story of him spoiling his child bride and he had expected Tywin to comment on it first. It couldn't be helped though, he would have to breach the subject. "I wanted you to know that I've done what you asked." He infused his tone with anger, knowing it would be what his father expected. It wasn't hard to channel that energy-he was furious that he even had to put on this mummers show. His father shouldn't be pressuring him to rape his wife. But this was the reality, so Tyrion had to sell it.
Tywin didn't even look up from whatever documents he was furiously writing. "I am aware." They sat in silence for a moment longer before his father finally looked at him. "Are you expecting applause for doing your duty?" Tyrion gritted his teeth. He should have expected this. Wasn't it parallel to the draining conversation they had had after he had risked his life protecting kings landing? He found no reason to mask his anger and glared at his father.
Tywin just sighed almost imperceptibly and returned to his work. "I expect news of a child soon. The lady Sansa is of fertile stock. It shouldn't take too long with the both of you...trying." Tyrion nodded stiffly. It took plenty of healthy couples years of trying before children came along. It would be no trouble convincing his father that there was no deception if Sansa didn't immediately grow large with child. The real risk would be him demanding Pycelle examine her to make sure there was no trouble. Even that dim witted old man would be able to tell a virgin from not. It would be an obstacle they could face at a later date. "And I expect the child to be healthy. I will not tolerate another..." Now Tywin was looking at him squarely, abandoning the paperwork in front of him and gesturing towards Tyrion's stunted body.
"Pray to the gods for that, father" Tyrion gritted out. He knew exactly what Tywin meant. He didn't want another dwarf living with the name Lannister. If it wouldn't put Sansa's health in jeopardy Tyrion would have found a sick sense of satisfaction if their firstborn (whenever they did consummate the marriage) shared his affliction. He would have loved to see the look on his father's face when he would be forced to deed the rock to what he hated. But Tyrion instantly shook that thought away. He would never wish his struggles on his child. Still, they would have no say...it was truly up to fate.
Tywin waved away mention of the gods. He knew his father was not a believer. "The gods will have nothing to do with it. If the child comes out like his father, he will not see the light of day." Tyrion stared at the hand in shock. He couldn't believe his father would stoop so low as to murder an infant of his own blood. Rage clouded his vision. Tywin could threaten him as much as he wanted. And he could even threaten Sansa to a degree-she was a grown woman and Tywin had no reason to hate her. But to threaten the life of his unborn child infuriated him. In that moment he knew what he would have to do. Whenever he and Sansa decided mutually to consummate their marriage, he'd be watchful. As soon as she conceived he would start plotting. His father would be dead in the ground before his child drew its first breath.
A/N: Sorry it's so short! Will be updating again soon, I promise!