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Fandomweekly Challenge 206 - By royal appointment
Title: By royal appointment
Fandom: Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Characters: Tyrion, Jaime
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 206 - Siblings at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Summary: : 1,000 words
Fandom: Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Characters: Tyrion, Jaime
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 206 - Siblings at
fandomweeklySummary: : 1,000 words
Summary: Tyrion’s brother is despondent at the prospect of leaving King’s Landing.
Tyrion chewed slowly on his breakfast, three extra blackened rashers of bacon, wedged in between two thick carved slices of bread. He watched as his brother Jaime slipped into the antechamber, white cloak draped around his shoulders, obscuring the golden lions on his surcoat. He took a seat at the table, frowned at the array of food and then slumped back in his chair without touching any of it.
Tyrion chewed, swallowed, and then washed it all down with a large mouthful of sweet summer wine. ‘What is that look for?’ he asked. ‘Do I need to find you a whore?’
The edge of Jaime's lip curled upwards at the remark. ‘Not all of the world's ails are from a lack of sex,’ he replied.
‘Not all,’ Tyrion agreed. ‘Just most.’ He reached for another slice of dark bread and lathered it with fresh lard. ‘So, tell me then, what puts you off joining me for this most marvellous feast on this most marvellous morning?’
Jaime leaned forward and grabbed for the pitcher of wine, pouring a large measure of the golden liquid into a goblet. ‘Robert plans to travel north to appoint his new Hand of the King.’
Tyrion paused before taking a bite. ‘I assume you mean Ned Stark?’
‘Who else? He, Robert and Jon Arryn were always close.’
There was a nod. ‘The realm could do far worse than a Stark for a Hand,’ Tyrion replied. They could do better than a Baratheon as King as well, but he didn't say that out loud. So what if the King drank and whored. At least he didn't start wars. Only ended them. And shamed his wife with his whoring, but Tyrion knew full well that his sister desired to bed Robert Baratheon about as much as a man would wish to bed a mule.
Jaime twirled the goblet on the table without drinking from it. ‘I have no wish to go north,’ he sulked.
‘You are the King’s sworn protector. It's the duty of the Kingsguard to travel with him.’
‘Indeed,’ he replied with bitterness in his voice. ‘Weeks on the kingsroad to reach Winterfell and for what? So that the Starks can sit on their high moral horse and look down on us?’
‘If I'm right then it is that same moral horse that will force Ned Stark to obey his King and return south to act as his Hand, whether he wishes it or not.’
There was a silent pause before Jaime spoke again. ‘Father should be Hand of the King.’
Tyrion shook his head. ‘Robert would never have it.’ Surrounded by too many Lannisters as it was.
‘He was Hand before.’
Tyrion found the statement amusing, giving him time to enjoy it with another mouthful of wine. ‘Yes, and what a fine job he did serving Aerys. Small wonder it wasn't Father who drove him to madness. I've often found myself wanting to burn entire cities to ash and ruin.’ He took another sip. ‘He'll never do it. Not now. Not when Casterly Rock’s very inheritance lies at stake. With you sworn to the Kingsguard and Cersei as Queen, who is left as heir to our Father’s grand empire? He'd rather throw himself from the Wall than see me ascend his seat.’
‘He does love you.’
‘In his own fashion.’ Just never the way he would love his siblings Jaime and Cersei. They didn't disgrace the Lannister name. Not publicly anyway. ‘In any case, I prefer to openly disappoint Father. I get to drink and enjoy whores and read books all day long and no one acts surprised or ashamed. It is as good a life as one can hope for.’
‘You can't hide anything from me. You can make out that you're the biggest whoremaster in the Seven Kingdoms.’
‘People have oft commented on my size, and not my dwarfism.’
‘You play the fool when you and I both know you're smarter than anyone gives you credit.’
‘You just did. And coming from the man whose maester once said to him that he'd never read and know his letters.’
Jaime scowled. ‘Father made me learn. It would have shamed him otherwise.’
‘Quite. Yet he took no pride in my own thirst for books. Curious, is it not?’
Jaime sat up straighter. ‘So prove it to them. Prove that Tyrion Lannister has a good head on his shoulders and not just a cock between his legs.’
‘I already have. The sewers.’
Jaime couldn't hold back his smile. ‘Ah, yes. The sewers.’
‘Father thought he was shaming me, giving me such a project. Little did he know that Casterly Rock has never before had such fine drainage with which to cast away the fouls of the little people. It was simply the little people he failed to cast away.’ He saw the embarrassed look on Jaime's face and chose to change the subject. ‘So, King’s Landing is to be emptied of its respectable folk for the long journey north.’
‘You could come with us,’ Jaime said, sounding more like a hopeful boy of eight than a man full grown.
‘You know. I think I might just do that. I could use a reason to have my legs chafe and my backside bruise upon a horse.’ Gods knew he had no intention of travelling in some carriage with Robert drunk most of the time. ‘I might even go visit the Wall.’ He'd always wondered what the edge of the world looked like and he was unlikely to ever have reason to head that way otherwise, and certainly not in the kind of comfortable accommodations that the King’s entourage would afford him.
‘You do?’ There was a hint of surprise in Jaime's voice.
‘Why not? It will be good to see Father have to grin and bear Ned Stark’s appointment.’ Proof that even men as great as Tywin Lannister could be made to feel as small as a dwarf. ‘I can’t have my brother miserable. That’s Father’s task.’
Tyrion chewed slowly on his breakfast, three extra blackened rashers of bacon, wedged in between two thick carved slices of bread. He watched as his brother Jaime slipped into the antechamber, white cloak draped around his shoulders, obscuring the golden lions on his surcoat. He took a seat at the table, frowned at the array of food and then slumped back in his chair without touching any of it.
Tyrion chewed, swallowed, and then washed it all down with a large mouthful of sweet summer wine. ‘What is that look for?’ he asked. ‘Do I need to find you a whore?’
The edge of Jaime's lip curled upwards at the remark. ‘Not all of the world's ails are from a lack of sex,’ he replied.
‘Not all,’ Tyrion agreed. ‘Just most.’ He reached for another slice of dark bread and lathered it with fresh lard. ‘So, tell me then, what puts you off joining me for this most marvellous feast on this most marvellous morning?’
Jaime leaned forward and grabbed for the pitcher of wine, pouring a large measure of the golden liquid into a goblet. ‘Robert plans to travel north to appoint his new Hand of the King.’
Tyrion paused before taking a bite. ‘I assume you mean Ned Stark?’
‘Who else? He, Robert and Jon Arryn were always close.’
There was a nod. ‘The realm could do far worse than a Stark for a Hand,’ Tyrion replied. They could do better than a Baratheon as King as well, but he didn't say that out loud. So what if the King drank and whored. At least he didn't start wars. Only ended them. And shamed his wife with his whoring, but Tyrion knew full well that his sister desired to bed Robert Baratheon about as much as a man would wish to bed a mule.
Jaime twirled the goblet on the table without drinking from it. ‘I have no wish to go north,’ he sulked.
‘You are the King’s sworn protector. It's the duty of the Kingsguard to travel with him.’
‘Indeed,’ he replied with bitterness in his voice. ‘Weeks on the kingsroad to reach Winterfell and for what? So that the Starks can sit on their high moral horse and look down on us?’
‘If I'm right then it is that same moral horse that will force Ned Stark to obey his King and return south to act as his Hand, whether he wishes it or not.’
There was a silent pause before Jaime spoke again. ‘Father should be Hand of the King.’
Tyrion shook his head. ‘Robert would never have it.’ Surrounded by too many Lannisters as it was.
‘He was Hand before.’
Tyrion found the statement amusing, giving him time to enjoy it with another mouthful of wine. ‘Yes, and what a fine job he did serving Aerys. Small wonder it wasn't Father who drove him to madness. I've often found myself wanting to burn entire cities to ash and ruin.’ He took another sip. ‘He'll never do it. Not now. Not when Casterly Rock’s very inheritance lies at stake. With you sworn to the Kingsguard and Cersei as Queen, who is left as heir to our Father’s grand empire? He'd rather throw himself from the Wall than see me ascend his seat.’
‘He does love you.’
‘In his own fashion.’ Just never the way he would love his siblings Jaime and Cersei. They didn't disgrace the Lannister name. Not publicly anyway. ‘In any case, I prefer to openly disappoint Father. I get to drink and enjoy whores and read books all day long and no one acts surprised or ashamed. It is as good a life as one can hope for.’
‘You can't hide anything from me. You can make out that you're the biggest whoremaster in the Seven Kingdoms.’
‘People have oft commented on my size, and not my dwarfism.’
‘You play the fool when you and I both know you're smarter than anyone gives you credit.’
‘You just did. And coming from the man whose maester once said to him that he'd never read and know his letters.’
Jaime scowled. ‘Father made me learn. It would have shamed him otherwise.’
‘Quite. Yet he took no pride in my own thirst for books. Curious, is it not?’
Jaime sat up straighter. ‘So prove it to them. Prove that Tyrion Lannister has a good head on his shoulders and not just a cock between his legs.’
‘I already have. The sewers.’
Jaime couldn't hold back his smile. ‘Ah, yes. The sewers.’
‘Father thought he was shaming me, giving me such a project. Little did he know that Casterly Rock has never before had such fine drainage with which to cast away the fouls of the little people. It was simply the little people he failed to cast away.’ He saw the embarrassed look on Jaime's face and chose to change the subject. ‘So, King’s Landing is to be emptied of its respectable folk for the long journey north.’
‘You could come with us,’ Jaime said, sounding more like a hopeful boy of eight than a man full grown.
‘You know. I think I might just do that. I could use a reason to have my legs chafe and my backside bruise upon a horse.’ Gods knew he had no intention of travelling in some carriage with Robert drunk most of the time. ‘I might even go visit the Wall.’ He'd always wondered what the edge of the world looked like and he was unlikely to ever have reason to head that way otherwise, and certainly not in the kind of comfortable accommodations that the King’s entourage would afford him.
‘You do?’ There was a hint of surprise in Jaime's voice.
‘Why not? It will be good to see Father have to grin and bear Ned Stark’s appointment.’ Proof that even men as great as Tywin Lannister could be made to feel as small as a dwarf. ‘I can’t have my brother miserable. That’s Father’s task.’