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It's a fine day for sunshine. I find myself pitying those who choose to live beneath stones and only play at seeing sunlight. The real thing is not so easy to replicate. It seems to be getting warmer as well. Summer Is Coming, as they might say in my own Westerlands. If there is anything to love about this world, it is the peculiarly short seasons. It is a strange thing to have them all wrapped up in one year. I find myself wondering how it is you're able to keep track of them when they each go by so swiftly. It is near spring, but I'm told it will only be a few months long with more certainty than even the wisest maesters can manage - and this from an ill-bred soldier with scant few hairs on his lip.

I will say this for the south, however. It is blessed with very few imps.

[Locked to the Unseelie]

I've spent an uncomfortably long time in Seelie lands these past few weeks, though I am to understand a fairy ring is not so far off ahead of me. Would that we had such things in my own seven kingdoms, I might have done a fair bit more traveling. Though I confess I find it terribly disappoint how utterly small this world is made out to be. Is it truly a void beyond the oceans? I would imagine that it could not have always been that way. Certainly there had to be something far off out there, beyond where ships are able to reach.

In any case, I do have a point beyond the tedium of long riding. My name is Tyrion Lannister, which may not merit much weight here, but I was known as the King's Hand and the Master of Coin where I was from. I excelled in both duties and while I have no mind to butcher my features in further battles, I would see my skills put to proper use still. There is a certain spire that I feel might benefit from my talents and so it is there I mean to go. But I am given to understand there are a number of spires in all and would be only too glad to find other similar minded individuals to begin making certain investments. I do not yet have all my wealth at my disposal, but I promise you I always pay my due. A Lannister always pays his debts.

There is one other matter. Briefly for a time there were two of my kin here. My brother Jaime Lannister and my bastard nephew, Joffrey. Did anyone perchance to meet either of them? I know they are long gone from this world, but I would be interested to know if there was anything they might have left behind.

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Though it might also be better as well. A spire and fort strikes me as underwhelming. I suspect I might find better employment of my own somewhere more reputable and actually named on the map. Redgate seems a promising place. Or Treun perhaps.

Forget Redgate. And...whatever that other place is. [ classy. ] You talked about chains, huh? Well. We're working on a chain that'll really blow your mind. Huge.

[ because for some reason she thinks this will impress him. buffy doesn't have much experience soft-selling military positions to people. it's actually all pretty antithetical.

maybe all she's got going for her is her girlish charm and bewitching eyes. and cruel indifference. ]

A chain, is it. [He says in feigned interest.] And what do you mean to do with it, hm?

Top secret. Confidential. You'll have to come visit to find out.

Will I? There is a baron with a large expanse of desert who might have me visit there instead.

Ever get sand stuck in your shoes? In your socks? It's not pleasant. Imagine that -- but amplified by, like, ten hundred. Pillow cases. Comfy chairs. Probably in your breakfast cereal, too.

Deserts suck. I should know. I lived next door to one for years.

I'm in no hurry to experiment. [Though perhaps he might have been if this was Dorne. He might have had a future there.] I find a bit of river and sea to be agreeable to me. The salt sea air is refreshing.

[ buffy smiles. ]

It is, isn't it? And nothing better for your hair. Honest. Cross my heart and hope to die. Nothing like sea-salt for beachy tousles.

I had not realized all my time in King's Landing had been so good for my golden curls. Now if only it could do something for the rest of me.

King's Landing.

[ sounds like a preppy sea-side town in maine, to be honest. ] Is that your home?

It was. I would find no welcome there now. [Not that he ever was welcomed in truth. They turned their backs on him the first chance they had.]

So count your blessings and be glad you're not there. Here's -- [ she won't say it's better than home. buffy misses home every day and every night. doubly so with dawn gone. ]

Hey. I never said. Sorry about your brother. [ after all, hadn't he mentioned one being gone before he'd even got here? ]

What is there to be sorry for? He still lives. Likely for a good and long while, I imagine.

[He won't begrudge his brother of that at least. He knew that if Jaime had the use of both hands, he would be fighting the Mountain for him. And wouldn't that have pleased their father, to see both of his sons risking their lives against his condemnation.]

'Cause it still sucks. [ even if a sibling goes back to better things. safer things. at least, that was the case with dawn. ]

[He does not need to understand the context of her vocabulary to understand the meaning. Jaime was the dearest family Tyrion ever had and he was not like to find any manner of replacement here.

For a moment, he had nothing to say. But at last, he settled for simple agreement.]

It does. Certainly.

-- Which one of you was the older sib?

My brother was. Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard. As it happens, he also killed a king. You might say that's a family trait of ours.

[Much as he loved Jaime, he was ever envious of him. Jaime was everything Tyrion was not. If he could, he would trade all the gold of Casterly Rock just to be him. Even for only a day.]

Sounds fancy. [ ... ] The title, I mean. Not the...regicide. And, as black spots go, it's a far sight blacker than petty shop-lifting and poor nail polish experiments -- both of which run rampant in in my family.

[Petty crimes certainly. It's amazing Buffy has both hands if she's been stealing from merchants, however. He assumes that as one skill in her favor.]

Did you have a sister here? A brother perhaps? [Painted nails weren't common in Westeros and was just as likely to be found on men as it was with women in Essos. Still, a sister seems the more likely guess of the two.]

Sister. [ and doesn't just her whole countenance light up to speak of the girl. even when she was trying to cajole tyrion into giving spire eight a taste-test, she'd remained wry and joke-y. now none could deny a hard currant of sincerity running through her expression. ] Younger sister. Her name's Dawn. She was here for a while and so were a few other people but --

Now it's just me. Probably for the best. Like you said: they still live. [ most of them. but there's no reason to get too honest too quick. or ever. no one needs to know about spike. ]

[It was more than he could say for his own uncertain fate, in any case. But the thought of sisters only made him think of his own. He would be gladder if he knew Cersei's fate was less certain.]

The imps do a poor task of keeping us here despite all the effort it takes to bring us here.

Magic's...weird like that. Doubly so the sort that can drag people through dimensional walls. That kinda sorcery never seems to quite as planned. [ she's dispassionate again when she puffs out her cheeks, then sighs. ] They probably operate on a certain margin of error. The monarchs, I mean. Expecting to keep one for every three they snag.

Yay us.

I will count myself fortunate to remain the one. Still, it's an impractical situation. For all they desire these shards of theirs, they are letting the bulk of the pieces slip away in the night.

[Though he suspects it may be more than that. People told themselves lies to be happy, but he had no certainty that Jaime or her Dawn were back in their own lands living in bliss.]

If you ask me -- [ and she knows he didn't ] -- I doubt they're allowing anything of the sort. Dimensions have a way of dragging back their own. Kicking and screaming, if need be.

[ crossing over any sort of metaphysical threshold comes with a tremendous price. she wonders what the drabwurld pays to get as many of them stuck as it does. ]

You sound certain. [Which is an odd thing, he thinks. She did not strike him as particularly intelligent, but all of this talk of dimensions is going over his head - only he's pretty sure she's not just resorting to her strange vocabulary instead.]

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