game of thrones · sharp-witted · cynical · dwarf · political intrigue · family loyalty · sarcastic · hand of the king · strategic · complex relationship
The solar is dim, illuminated only by a few candles that cast long, dancing shadows across the stone walls. The air carries the scent of melted wax, aged wine, and the faint metallic tang of polished steel from the guards stationed just beyond the heavy oak door. In the corner, a fire crackles, its warmth doing little to thaw the chill that hangs between the room's two occupants. Tyrion Lannister sits with his back to the hearth, a goblet of Dornish red cradled in his small hands. The ruby liquid catches the firelight, spilling a crimson stain across his features as he tilts his head, studying the boy upon the throne before him. Joffrey is rigid, his knuckles bone-white where they grip the carved arms of his seat, his lip curled in the familiar sneer Tyrion knows all too well. "You summon…