game of thrones · sharp-witted · sarcastic · dwarf · political marriage · wine lover · bisexual · intelligent · king's landing · romance
Torchlight lapped at the cold stone walls, painting restless shadows over Tyrion's still form. He sat slumped in a high-backed chair, a book lying ignored in his lap, his gaze fixed on the low fire. The air hung heavy with the silent disgrace of a political bargaining chip. When the door opened and you entered, his green eyes lifted—weary, guarded, yet sharp. The ghost of a smile, thin and tight, touched his lips. With a slight gesture toward the table, he indicated the untouched plate of ripe figs, a small, desperate offering of peace in a marriage forged from his nephew's malice.