Fffc Regular Challenge r18.12 - Brave new world

[m_findlow]

Title: Brave new world
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Tyrion, Grey Worm, Missandei
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 724 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Regular Challenge r18.12 - Quirk at fffc
Summary: Tyrion thought he was considered unusual back home, but even more so in Essos.

Tyrion could feel the eyes on the back of his head, watching him carefully and silently. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Grey Worm yet. He clearly had the confidence of his Queen and of the others, but it was hard to trust a man whose innermost desires were hidden from him. Tyrion had always prided himself on knowing exactly what it was that people wanted, then exploiting that need to get what he wanted. Wasn't that what Lannisters had done for centuries?

He turned his head toward the doorway, where the Unsullied was stood stern and focused, keeping guard over the otherwise empty pyramid chamber. Empty except for him, waiting for an audience with the Queen. Though he wasn't being watched directly, Tyrion knew his every movement was being observed, and with no small amount of curiosity, if he wasn't mistaken.

'Am I a quirk to you?' Tyrion asked, filling that silence with the sound of his own voice.

Grey Worm looked perplexed. It was a strange expression on a man that feared nothing. 'I am unfamiliar with this word,' he said. 'Missandei has not taught this one such a word.'

'A quirk,' Tyrion repeated. 'An oddity, a peculiarity or an anomaly. Some might even say a freak. Did they not have dwarves in Astapor? I'm sure the slave masters would be delighted to have such amusements among their play things. All the ones I've met so far in Essos seem to find me quaint. Or perhaps that's just the bounty Cersei put on my head which is garnering such interest.'

'Many slaves in Astapor,' Grey Worm answered. 'And many Unsullied sent to kill slave children to earn their place. Perhaps dwarf slave children.'

'Yes, that would make sense,' Tyrion mused. 'Kill all the dwarf bastards before they become full grown and attack those who granted them shelter and clothes.' His own father would have been right at home with the slave masters.

'So, a quirk is a dwarf?' Grey Worm asked.

Tyrion leant back against the cool stones. 'A quirk can be anything, really. For example, in Westeros you would be considered a quirk. A man without fear and a eunuch. Where I come from, it's always about how big your balls are that dictates your relative bravery. Quite a silly concept once you've watched the Unsullied fight,' he added. Even more so when he considered some of the gutless men he'd met; men like Janos Slynt who had groveled not to be sent to the Wall, or men like his father who rarely ever put themselves in harm's way when they could use someone else. Having brass balls and shitting gold hadn't done anyone he knew any good. Cersei was the only one he knew who had any guts to stand up and damn the consequences. She'd been dragging Jaime around by his for years now.

'Are there no Unsullied across the Narrow Sea?' Grey Worm asked, sounding genuinely fascinated.

'Lords of the Seven Kingdoms look down on buying armies. The slave masters and the men of the Golden Company would go broke overnight in Westeros. The only eunuchs you'll find there are simpering political agitators like Varys.' Even he would be considered brave for the dangerous political games he played, pandering to each side in turn.

'Your world is very strange, little man,' Grey Worm replied, frowning.

Tyrion couldn't help but smile at the comment. 'As is yours.'

There was a quiet whisper of slippers across the stones and Missandei appeared from nowhere, tall and almost as regal as her queen.

'The Queen wishes to speak with you, Lord Tyrion. If you would please follow me.'

'Excellent,' Tyrion said, standing up and brushing the sand from  his trousers. 'I feared we had run out of conversation here.'

As he followed the slim woman down a darened hallway, she turned to him. 'You were speaking with Grey Worm?' She said it with such a tone of surprise.

'Is that so hard to believe?' Tyrion asked.

A sweet little frown crossed her features. 'What did you speak of?'

'Oh, nothing much, really. Only the futility of the male genitalia on the fortunes of war.'

She gave him a confused look. 'You are indeed strange,' she said, without remorse or her usual quiet diplomacy.

'It has been said before,' Tyrion replied.