"It is good research." Tyrion nodded as he handed back the notebook. "Especially since it's only been a day since the bet."
"Thank you for the compliment," Jon said with a shrug as if it was no big deal, though he could not fully hide the pleased quirk of his lips. "I just worked through the night, and it came out like this."
Tyrion nodded before he looked at him with a waiting expression. "And so? What was the reason you gave this to me?"
"Was it not obvious?" Jon asked with a tilt of his head, "I have a fairly good idea on how to clean up the whole city in a short period of time, and keep it like that for a while, but for a long-term solution we would need a good, efficient drainage system that doesn't break down, and handle the load of the population... and that is where you come in."
"Oh," Tyrion looked quite curious about this whole idea on behalf of which the boy must have made this whole bet, but there was something more concerning to him, "You heard about my work in Casterly Rock?" he asked with a frown, wondering who could have known about this internal detail and told it to the boy, "From whom?"
"I can't very well tell you my source, can I? Or else who will tell me things in future?" Jon smiled mysteriously, acting as if he had dozens of secret spies feeding him information, when in truth his source was the almighty creator Lord Martin. "But I know that the work you did was splendid, and that the drains and cisterns are still working perfectly to this day, all because of you."
"And did your 'source' also tell you why my father handed me that task?" Tyrion scoffed as he stared out at the view of King's Landing. "He felt that cleaning the crammed, smelly sewers was a task perfectly suited for a dwarf, and now you want me to do that again. Do you want the world to know that Tyrion Lannister is only ever good for the lowly task of cleaning sewage pipes?" he mocked. "If I hadn't seen that book, I would have taken you for someone coming to belittle me."
"In my view no task is lowly," Jon shrugged, "And I know your father did not acknowledge the fine work you did there, but here," he waved towards the city, "If you help me accomplish this here, make the lives of these hundreds of thousands of people better, they will remember you for their whole life, your name would be written in the history books, and here your father will have no authority to stop that from happening."
There was silence for a few moments as Tyrion simply stared out at the city with a dazed look on his face before he suddenly shook his head.
"You spin rather grand dreams, making sewage cleaning sound so heroic" Tyrion turned to look at Jon with a smile. "But fine, I shall bite, but I hope I do get something in return for my labour. After all, you can't very well expect me to work for free."
"I had assumed that money held little attraction to you Lannisters," Jon asked with a curious tilt of his head, "Was I wrong?"
"I mean, it does hold a little—fine, you are right. Gold is nothing more than a heavy rock for me, but there are other ways to pay a man." Tyrion said with a meaningful smile on his face, "You should know that better than anyone. After all, the King seems to have been paid quite well."
"Oh, I hope you do not ask for seven gifts too. Because that would be too exhausting."
"Don't worry, my friend, I am not that pious. Just one shall do for me."
"And what would that be?"
"I have been quite fascinated with that clear mirror you gave to my sister. A wonderful thing it is, especially considering that the Myrish people have been making lenses, mirrors, and glasses for centuries, but never have they made something like yours."
"You want a mirror?" Jon stared at the dwarf with a strange look in his eyes.
"Why that expression? Am I too ugly to be wanting to see my own face?" Tyrion asked with narrowed eyes.
"Yes," Jon replied with an honest nod, as if it should have been obvious.
"Ugh, you did not have to be that blunt." Tyrion snorted with a wry smile, unable to deny that he liked the boy's humour. "But yes, you are right. It is not the mirror, but its recipe. The process involved."
"Are you joking? Why in the world would I do that?" Jon blinked with disbelief in his eyes; he had been feeling that the dwarf had agreed to his request too easily, but it only became clear now that he had a clear goal from the beginning.
"Of course, not." Jon snorted while rolling his eyes. "Why in seven hells would I do something like that?"
"Ah, don't worry, I have no plans to steal your recipe and open a factory of my own." Tyrion waved his hand. "I just want to learn about how something such as that could be made, the process behind it all, just for curiosity's sake. I promise to destroy the paper after reading it just once, and never speak of it to another soul. It is just for my curiosity's sake."
"No chance," Jon firmly shook his head, "Ask for something else."
"There is nothing else that you could give me." Tyrion spread his hands briefly, a faint smile playing on his lip. "After all, there are few things in the world that can tempt a Lannister. So unless you are willing to be a little generous. I believe there is nothing else to talk about here."
"This is not simply about me being stingy." Jon's brow furrowed; the method to create that mirror meant a lot more than just a means to earn money. If things went how he envisioned, it could go as far as to grab him the backing of a whole kingdom, so it would be too risky to lose it all just to get a helper to make this task a little more convenient. "How about I offer an all-expense-paid tour of the Free Cities on my shipping fleet. I can guarantee your safety."
"Tempting, but no." Tyrion still shook his head
Jon rubbed a hand over his face. "You are really making it difficult for me now."
"What can I say, the heart wants what it wants." Tyrion gave a small shrug, shook his head, and turned towards the door. "Why don't you take your time to think this through? I can wait."
'After all, you are the one with the time limit here, boy,' Tyrion thought with a hidden smirk.
"Are you really sure?" Jon called out after him, "It is a great chance for you to make your name?"
Tyrion didn't even bother to reply and simply waved, "I wish you luck in your endeavours, boy. We will all be happy if the city smelled a bit better."
A moment later, just as Tyrion was at the doorstep, Jon audibly sighed, "And here I thought I could keep this for a more important moment."
Something in the boy's voice made Tyrion stop and turn around, only to see him holding another leather diary, and unlike the first, this one had clearly survived a lot more years. "And how is another notebook supposed to tempt me?" he asked slowly, feeling curious despite himself.
"Well, for one thing, this one doesn't belong to me," Jon answered while turning the book around so that he could see the cover. "Gerion Lannister," he read out loud with a smirk, "You are familiar with that name, are you not?"
Everything stopped.
Tyrion's eyes locked onto the cover.
"Tyrion, my boy. A man has to have a dream. A dream larger than life itself, one that he wants to achieve more than anything in the world. And it shouldn't be like my brother's, 'I want to make the Lannister name immortal' Bah! That is so boring! Dreams are supposed to be fun."
"Really? Then I..." The childish voice stammered as it thought with all the might of his tiny brain, "I know! I want to ride a dragon! A big, big dragon. The real one."
"Eh? HAHA!! Prefect! That is perfect, my boy! A perfect dream!"
"...How do I know if that is even real?" Tyrion's mouth had gone dry, and he tried hard to peel his eyes away from the diary. "Where did you even find it?"
"Snatched it from the hands of a great pirate." Jon replied while lazily waving the diary in his hands, "According to the story, he found it in the hands of a delirious slave near the ruins of Old Valyria. You should know what that means." Jon held Tyrion's gaze.
How could Tyrion not know about it?
He could still remember the last day he had seen the man, when he had sworn an oath that he was going to find their family's lost sword, the Brightroar.
"Even if it is, what of it?" Tyrion gave a casual shrug, though the effort behind it was obvious. "You really think that an old diary of an uncle I barely remember would matter much to me?" he snorted. "You must be delusional, boy."
"Oh, so you do not care for it," Jon paused, surprise flashing across his face as his hand holding the diary paused.
"No, I do not."
Jon looked thoughtful for a moment before he suddenly grinned. "Ah, then you shouldn't mind me doing this," he abruptly chucked his hand towards the open balcony.
"NO!!" Tyrion cried, his hand rising instinctively in horror.
Thankfully, Jon stopped at the very edge as he turned back with an innocent gaze. "Huh? So you do care about this?" he asked the frozen, trying hard to suppress the mischievous grin on his face.
Tyrion sighed as he lowered his hand in defeat. "You are a lot ruder than I had assumed."
He had accepted the fact that the boy had a good amount of leverage on him now.
"So, what say you?" Jon said as he handed him back the notebook with the detailed steps of his city cleaning plans, "Are you ready to have your name immortalised in history?"
"Yes, yes, let us get it over with," Tyrion's shoulders sagged as as he took the leather-bound book.
"Perfect." Jon clapped with an enthusiastic look on his face. "Then you can begin with working on the third task and onwards, and we shall take it from there."
"Fine, fine, I agree." Tyrion spread his hands in surrender. "Now, can I have the diary now? After all, I have already decided to work for you."
Jon blinked, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "Do you believe me to be an idiot?"
"It was worth a try," Tyrion gave a small, shameless shrug.
Jon rolled his eyes as he safely tucked the old diary in his front pocket. "The diary is not going to go anywhere, so you can rest assured that you shall have it at the end."
"Ugh, I can already feel a headache coming," Tyrion said as he reopened the notebook. "We will need these plans to be a lot more detailed if we want this to work, and you will need a lot of gold prepared if you want this to be fast," he warned.
Jon quickly nodded his head. "There is no one out there who can plan more efficiently than you, so I shall leave that in your hands. And as for the money, you can assume we have no limit for the funds, and work from there—" he generously waved his hand.
"Where are you going?" Tyrion asked suspiciously as he finally noticed the boy slowly backing towards the door.
"Ah, about that, you see I already have an appointment lined up in an hour or so..." Jon shifted awkwardly as he pointed out the door.
Tyrion studied him for a moment, "...Is it a date?"
"Huh? How did you know?" Jon blinked in surprise.
"Never mind that," Tyrion scoffed as he looked away from the bright eagerness on the boy's face, which irritated his bachelor heart more than anything.
"Well, then, you know where to send for me when you are ready to start spending some gold." Jon waved in farewell and immediately scurried down the stairs with the haste of a man going to meet his wife.
"Wait! At least help me to the bottom..."
The dwarf with crooked legs trailed off, the boy having disappeared even before he finished his sentence. "Curse him!" he said with an envious look on his face.
Now, left there all alone, Tyrion stared at the book in his hands for a few moments before he decisively placed it inside his pocket. "Fuck this! Let's pay Baelish a visit first, and deal with this later."
The man decided that he wouldn't leave until he tasted all the peaches available there.
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