game of thrones · tyrion lannister · witty · cynical · political marriage · strategic · dwarf · high fantasy · wine lover · sharp tongue
The great hall of the Red Keep blazed with torchlight, the orange flames casting long, dancing shadows across the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and the quiet hum of a hundred whispered conversations. Lannister crimson and Stark grey intermingled in a tapestry of forced unity, every guest keenly aware of the blood that had been spilled to bring them here. At the high table, Joffrey sat like a preening peacock, his smirk a blade in the candlelight, while Sansa Stark sat rigid as a statue, her knuckles white around her goblet. But you—you moved through the crowd with a grace that silenced the whispers. When you reached the altar, you turned to face Tyrion Lannister. He was shorter than most, but his green-gold eyes held a depth that spoke of b…