Winter has come chapter two
Authors note: All characters belong to GRRM and Bioware respectively.
Of all the places prince Tyrion Aeducan had ever woken up in, the cell his father threw him in ranked among the worst. His cell within the bowels of the Orzammar royal palace smelled of deep mushroom and nug piss and was far from the lava springs that gave the city life. In the deep roads one quickly learned to fear the cold.
Tyrion had once thought of himself as a smart dwarf. Now… he wasn't so sure. He had been outplayed, simple as that. And in the proving grounds of his father's court there were no second chances. It was said that there was honor among thieves. Tyrion had only known one thief and for a regrettably short time at that, if she was the example then the adage was most certainly true.
"All hail Low king Tywin Aeducan! May the stone reject him when he falls". The old dwarf must have forgotten that Tyrion was as deft with his hands as with his words. The hours he'd spent practicing his lock picking on the palace locks had paid off, the cell door was open as soon as the guard was out of earshot and slipped into the shadows. The courtiers of the crimson thaig could make a cats footfalls sound like hob nailed boots on tile: Tyrion was a legend among them. A life on the surface was his for the taking.
A wise dwarf would have cut his losses and ran. But after Bhelen framed him for killing Trian and his father just stood by. Succinctly put, wisdom was no longer a priority. He was requesitioning a set of leathers from the armory for his own ends when he noticed her crossbow hanging from a peg and mutttered " Codger never did throw away anything that he could subvert and use as a tool for his own ends…" as he strapped on a matching quiver. Tyrion slotted in a quarrel and sighted the bow before setting off for his father's quarters. An Aeducan pays his debts
Although Tywin had expected Tyrion to escape from the dungeon sooner or later, the boy had chosen a rather inconvenient time to make his appearance. He had known that the expedition was a set up from the start, that Tyrion had fallen for it was quite simply disappointing.
It was a shame about Trian of course, but the boy was never suited for kingship. He had not fought for House Aeducan's place on the Dragonbone Seat these last 70 years only to see it fall into the hands of another smith king like Tytos: now that simply would not do.
The click of a crossbow's safety latch brought Tywin's attention back to the matter at hand. There was a glint in Tyrion's eyes that beared addressing, Tywin cut through the silence with his measured voice:
"What need you bring a crossbow to my commode? Surely you know I would never brand an Aeducan as casteless. You will go to the surface and join those Night Wardens they hold in such high regard. When you achieve station as befits your birth you will lead them to retake the thaigs for the glory of House Aeducan. It is time our house had another paragon, much longer and the deshyrs will get ideas above their station. Now put down the crossbow and let us talk of your future in the lands of the surface"
That only seemed to make Tyrion angrier, had he perchance misjudged the boy? The crossbow didn't waiver as his son replied: his deep baritone full of restrained emotion:
"Caste is all you ever cared about, isn't it father. Even as Trian lay dead before you and the true culprit clear for all to see. You called me kinslayer before the entire assembly, and you expect me to meekly obey just as when you took my casteless bride. I warn you father, I am no longer a boy to be scolded for loving someone below his station."
Tywin paused for a moment to recall who his son was referring to:
"Ah yes, the Brosca girl. She wormed her way into your bed and you thought yourself in love. I thought I had taught you better then that, an Aeducan should be above such foolishness. She was dealt with as befits her station."
Tyrion's jaw clenched in anger and his voice was filled with icy rage as he spoke:
"WHERE DID YOU SEND HER"
" Wherever casteless go…"
The crossbow's thrum echoed throughout the hallowed halls and the stones of the Crimson thaig drank kingsblood once more.
In the end Tywin Aeducan did not, in fact, shit gold.
Author commentary: Everyone's favorite dwarf takes the stage with crossbow in hand, it will be hard to write up to his ASOIF humor levels (they're over 9000!) but I'll give it my best shot.
I was originally going to have him introduced as Duncan's companion or met with (dao cannon) Alistair at the wall, but I figured he was best introduced in a familiar situation so I put him in his own element this story practically wrote itself.
Special thanks to all of my friends who looked at my creative writing and said it was worth sharing: you guys make it all worthwhile.