Tyrion Lannister was often disappointed in himself and now was one of those occasions. He just could not seem to catch a break no matter what. His father hated his guts because he was a dwarf. His sister hated him because he had killed their mother during his birth, and had not found a way to get their brother back to King's Landing. Tyrion often wondered if Jaime hated him as well, for he and Cersei shared so much in common as most twins did. Growing up, his brother had been the only Lannister to treat him with kindness. No, Tyrion thought, Jaime couldn't hate me. As of now, the newest person to hate him was a girl with sunshine in her hair. What on earth had possessed him to enter her chambers without so much as a knock? He could blame the music. It had startled him from his own balcony two chambers away and when he stepped foot outdoors and glanced over, he had seen her in the distance. She was a sight, sitting there in her flowing white gown, playing the harp like an angel sent to Earth. He had gone over to compliment her playing, but it had ended rather badly. He cursed himself and tousled his already mussed blonde locks.
"I should just declare myself Joffrey's newest fool," he mused as he begun the walk back to his own chambers. His book was still lying open on the desk where it had been left. A candle burned next to it, sending flickering shadows dancing across the dry, yellowed pages. Tyrion grabbed a scrap of parchment and scrawled onto it's surface with a quill, "Note to self: knock before entering someone else's chambers and order the Hightower girl a new wood harp before father disowns me." Tyrion was a Lannister and always paid his debts, and he considered the broken instrument a debt to be repaid. He threw the quill down and fell backwards onto his lumpy bed. How he missed his old rooms in The Tower of the Hand and his replaced mattress there. Maybe he could talk his father into switching with him, but he doubted it.
Tywin probably had the beds switched already, thinking his son had whored himself inside of it. He would not be wrong, Tyrion laughed internally, Shae had made quite a mess of that bed the last time we had lain together atop its feathery plushness. The thought made his breeches suddenly feel tight across his aching groin. If his father had not been Tywin Lannister, he would have called upon Shae to be brought to his chambers, but sadly after the last threat to her life, he had made sure to keep his mistress safely hidden away where she would never be found. Tyrion often saw her about the keep, tending to Sansa Stark and those little glances they shared daily were more than enough to help him get through the long nights without her warming his bed.
Supper was upon them at last and Tyrion was anxiously waiting outside Shona's chambers to escort her to the feast. He had not stood long when her doors creaked open and the young girl walked forth through the threshold. The sight of her almost took his breath away. Shona Hightower was a beautiful girl and was quite the fair maiden in her simple gown of pristine white lace and highest quality silk. She had a crown of silken flowers perched atop her gleaming hair. Her maids had pinned back several sections on the sides of her head and wound them into intricate braids, putting her face on full display unframed by the curls which hung past her shoulders and down her back.
"My lady, you look absolutely stunning," Tyrion was finally able to state. "May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the feast?"
Shona licked at her lips and nodded, almost shyly taking his arm, which was quite a bit lower than her own. They walked side by side down the stone staircase and out of the holdfast. They were feasting in celebration of the upcoming wedding, with this particular feast dedicated to The Tyrells. Walking into the room, Tyrion was almost uncomfortable by the eyes that followed them. He was seldom seen with such a stunning creature and it almost took his ego up a notch.
"I wanted to apologize firstly for your harp. I was simply trying to compliment your playing and had not thought my presence would be of such a surprise. I assure you that I will replace it with a harp worthy of your musical abilities," Tyrion spoke in a quiet tone to the woman by his side. She looked down with a slight frown marring her otherwise beautiful face, "It was a gift from my grandfather."
Smooth move, Lannister.
"I am so sorry." he choked out and almost gave up the conversation when she had smiled down at him like nothing of accident had occurred at all.
"I can forgive you only on one condition, my lord."
She looked absolutely mischievous standing there with her sunset eyes gleaming in the candlelight. Shona Hightower had eyes unlike any he had seen before. They were wide set and brimmed with a fringe of inky lashes long enough to graze her cheeks when she blinked down at him. When they reopened, Tyrion could see gold, and orange, and brown all clung to her iris before fading and being enveloped in a sea of midnight blue. She had the eyes of a sly shadowcat. Tyrion almost felt as if he were being stalked himself in her gaze.
"I do not deserve your forgiveness, my sweet lady, but anything I can do for you will ease my mind, for I do feel awfully at blame for the situation. For a dwarf, I surprise even myself by my silence of foot. I might have more of a chance being a sell sword than a Lord with the right practice." Shona giggled at the words and Tyrion felt pleased enough to smirk. She made a show of sitting beside him at the long dining table laden with fresh flowers, smiling at him, "Let me enjoy your jokes for the night and feast with me?"
Even with Shae watching his every move from across the room by Sansa Stark's side, he could not help but agree to her terms. They sat side by side causing a wave of glances and whispers. Cersei looked utterly startled for a long moment before resuming to appear as nonchalant as usual. Joffrey sat at the head of the tables feasting on the choicest cuts of auroch and suckling pig. Platters of juicy cuts were set before the duo. Tyrion ate with zeal, for he had skipped lunch earlier in the day in order to read. He was absolutely ravenous as he began cutting into his second helping of beef and bacon pie. Shona was ever the lady and helping herself to smaller portions of the same foods as he. She daintily nibbled at a forkful of beef and bacon, listening to her companion talk beside her.
"So I found myself at The Wall, which is the most breathtaking sight I have ever seen, might I add, and I am sitting amongst murders and thieves and rapers thinking to myself: Am I going to escape this situation with two things: my money and more importantly, my head. I face the edge of the world and leave with both of those things which delights me only to be taken prisoner by Catelyn Stark. This is where I lose my gold, and almost my head. Luckily I had dear old Bronn to save me. Isn't that right, Ser Bronn?"
"Aye," Bronn choked out through a mouthful of buttered turnips, "Saving rich damsels in distress is my specialty."
It was Tyrion that laughed at his joke first, only to be accompanied by a snorting Shona. She held a hand over her nose and mouth in horror which only made Tyrion laugh all the harder, attracting Joffrey's attention from where he had been discussing crossbows with Mace Tyrell.
"Are you drunk again, Uncle? I am sorry, Lady Hightower, but you seem to have chosen the worst feasting companion. It would please me to have you at the high table with both myself and my future queen," Joffrey sneered with a queer look in his blue eyes. Tyrion frowned at his brat of a nephew as he led Shona away from Bronn and himself.
"That pompous little brat," Tyrion snapped, digging into his piece of fruit tart with anger. His knife pinged against the metal platter, leaving a dent in its wake.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do say she likes you. She is not enjoying Joffrey's company in the least either. She's a good girl," Bronn noted while Tyrion stared over at where Shona sat with a pinched look on her pretty face. Cersei met Tyrion's gaze and smirked, holding up her goblet to salute him. Tyrion toasted her back and downed his glass, getting to his feet and letting a huge burp ring from his chest. The sound echoed off the walls of the feasting room loudly, silencing the chatter around him. It only took a moment for the laughing to start and he left the room as it escalated behind him. A bunch of drunk nobles think him a fool, but it was they who herded behind the bastard king like sheep to slaughter. Wise men could profit from fools such as they, and Tyrion Lannister was a very wise man.