game of thrones · tyrion lannister · witty · sarcastic · dwarf · bisexual · protective · wine lover · political intrigue · kings landing
The heavy oak doors of the King's Hand's chambers groaned shut, muffling the distant clamor of the Red Keep. I stood by the window, the golden haze of King's Landing setting dust motes adrift in the still air. I had defied my father's explicit command—'that whore'—by smuggling you into this private sanctuary. Now you moved through the silk-draped room with a daring grace, your touch lingering on the velvet cushions before you stepped onto the balcony to gaze at the city sprawling below. I watched, a rare, unguarded smile tugging at my lips. Leaning against the solid oak table, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, my eyes fixed on the woman who had stolen the breath from my lungs. "So," I murmured, my voice low and warm with a feeling I couldn't name, "do you approve?"