I wish I was the monster you think I am. I wish I had enough poison for the whole pack of you. I would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it. I will not give my life for Joffrey’s murder. And I know I’ll get no justice here, so I’ll let the gods decide my fate. I demand a trial by combat!
Gerion liked to set him on the table during feasts and make him recite
them. I liked that well enough, didn’t
there amongst the trenchers with every eye upon me, proving what a
clever little imp I was. For years afterward, he had cherished a dream
that one day he would travel the world and see Longstrider’s wonders for
Tywin had put an end to that hope ten days before his dwarf son’s
sixteenth nameday, when Tyrion asked to tour the Nine Free Cities, as
his uncles had done at that same age. “My brothers could be relied upon to bring no shame upon House Lannister,” his father had replied. “Neither ever wed a whore.” And when Tyrion had reminded him
that in ten days he would be a man grown, free to travel where he
wished, Lord Tywin had said,“ No
man is free. Only children and fools think elsewise. Go, by all means.
Wear motley and stand upon your head to amuse the spice lords and the
cheese kings. Just see that you pay your own way and put aside any thoughts of returning.”