Jon showed Galena to her chamber room later on that evening. "I'm right down the hall if you need me," he said after she asked for some time alone. He was reluctant to go, but he abided by her wishes.
Once he left, Galena made her way to the small balcony outside of her room, sitting quietly for quite some time before she heard the sound of footsteps coming across the floor. She knew she had nothing to fear, but it still put her on edge. Then she heard a gentle tap, tap, tap coming from behind her.
"Knock, knock."
She turned to see Tyrion carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. She smiled. "Only one bottle?" she joked.
He chuckled, smirking at her. "My Lady, you underestimate me." He pointed at the table just inside the door, where two more bottles sat.
"What happened to the no Lady and no Lord thing, my Lord?" she giggled, surprising herself with how feminine and flirty it came out.
"Ah, my apologies, Galena," he said as he sat down in the chair beside her, placing the bottle and glasses on the table in front of them.
She turned to him, resting her hand on his forearm. "Call me Lena," she sighed, looking softly into his eyes. She was surprised at how quickly her stomach filled with butterflies when she touched him.
She didn't even bother to hide her flushed cheeks when Tyrion put his hand over hers. She wondered if he felt the same excitement as she did.
He grinned. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he hoped she couldn't feel his quickening heartbeat through his touch.
"Would you like to get drunk, Lena?" He dangled a glass of wine, filled to the brim, in front of her.
She laughed enthusiastically. "Yes, please!"
He smiled again, and it was a genuine smile. He remembered her well enough from Winterfell, but he didn't remember her being as lovely as she was. He poured wine into his own glass. "To getting drunk," he said, raising his glass to hers.
Galena clinked her glass off of his. "To getting drunk with great company."
"Here, here," he agreed.
* * * * *
When Galena woke the next morning, her head was pounding and the room was spinning. She groaned as she opened her eyes. She knew Jon, and The Queen, would be expecting her for breakfast. She huffed as she sank further into the bed.
Oh, the bed. The wonderful, soft, fluffy bed. And the pillows, and the blankets. Even if she wasn't sick from drinking the night before, she wouldn't have wanted to get up. She hadn't slept on a proper bed in what seemed forever. She shot up suddenly, her hand immediately cradling her aching head, remembering who it was she had gotten so drunk with. Tyrion Lannister.
It was then she noticed the mug of water and a small vial on her nightstand.
"Lord Varys wanted me to bring you those."
She jumped at the sound of his voice, quickly pulling the sheets further over herself. In her drunken state, she never bothered to put her sleeping attire on. "Jon, what are you doing here?"
He sat in one of the chairs by the balcony doors. "Doing what was asked of me," he stated dryly.
She knew her cousin was cross with her, but at that particular moment, she didn't care one bit. "I'm sorry, Jon. I know this isn't what's expected of a Lady." A fake, apologetic smile fell upon her face.
He rose, not hiding his distaste in her choices. "Get dressed. Breakfast is being served shortly. The Queen is expecting you."
And with that, he left her alone in her chambers, without the chance for a retort. She stood, knowing she had to follow his orders, and began to prepare herself for the day.
* * * * *
"Lord Tyrion," Jon Snow said gruffly as the half man entered the room. "A word."
Tyrion froze in place. He knew what this was about and he wasn't prepared for it. He hadn't even had any wine yet. Or bacon. He continued slowly to the table where Jon Snow, Daenerys, and the rest of her entourage sat. "Of course, Jon Snow. What about? A new strategy?"
Daenerys gave him a worrisome look. Obviously Jon Snow had been discussing his dislike for Tyrion with the Queen.
The look on Jon's face told Tyrion that he was not entertained. "In the other room," he huffed as he stood.
Tyrion cleared his throat, the brooding look on Jon Snow's face frightened him. "If it's all the same, my Lord, I would prefer to stay here." Tyrion looked around the table. "Where there are witnesses."
"What do you mean by drinking alone with Galena last night?" Jon asked, the calmness in his voice unnerving Tyrion even more.
"I uh, well," Tyrion stammered.
"Answer me!" Jon commanded, slamming his mug on the table.
Tyrion jumped, absentmindedly examining the mug, wondering if it had cracked under the force of which it was slammed down.
"I...she..." he closed his eyes tightly. He knew he was making this more difficult for himself. He took a deep breath. "I thought she could use a friend."
"And you thought that friend should be you?" Jon sneered. "I saw the way you were holding her hand yesterday; the way you looked at her."
Tyrion glanced around the table, most of the eyes stared awkwardly at the tabletop, but two sets were on him. Daenerys', and Lord Varys'. Lord Varys, he thought to himself as his brow furrowed, he should have known better than to trust him with something as simple as delivering relief to the girl. Lord Varys shrugged his apology.
"Imp!" Jon shouted, regaining Tyrion's attention.
He hated being called imp, but at the time being, he was more concerned with what Jon Snow meant to do with him, not what he called him. After briefly meeting Varys' eyes, he turned his attention back to Jon.
Tyrion cleared his throat. "I thought she might need some comfort while she was being made to remember and talk about those horrible things." He didn't flinch. He was not ashamed of what he said. "She shouldn't have been forced to reveal her terrible past in front of a group of strangers."
Jon curled his lip and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He knew Tyrion was right. He should have handled it differently. He should have talked to her privately.
"To let her enjoy dinner, to let her feel joy and happiness, and comfort," Tyrion continued, "and then to coerce her to trudge up those terrible memories; to discuss her rape. So I held her hand and smiled at her to help put her mind at ease, to let her know that she was in no danger."
Jon met his eyes, and the others around the table as well. He glanced at the table top, slightly embarrassed. He growled at the fact that the tables had turned on him. "I know what I did was a mistake, but we're not talking about my wrong doings right now." He leaned forward on the table, glaring directly into Tyrion's eyes. "Did you lay with her?" he asked calmly.
Tyrion jerked his head back, caught off guard. "What?" he questioned quietly.
"Did you," Jon began again, his voice rising from the placid anger he previously displayed to a booming, assertive rage, "lay with my cousin? Did you lay with Galena?"
Tyrion chuckled. It was a confused, baffled kind of chuckle. He was taken aback. "What are you insinuating, Jon Snow?"
"Did you sleep with Galena?" Jon hollered, threateningly pointing his finger in Tyrion's face, his chest rising and falling with a growing fury. "Tell me!"
Tyrion's face grew soft as he began to chortle, oddly amused by the situation at hand. He finally sat down, and began to relax. This had to be a joke. "I brought her wine, and we drank until the early morning."
"You're avoiding the question, my Lord," Jon pressed. "Did you sleep with my cousin?" he shouted.
Tyrion bit his lip to retain his outburst. He felt the need to defend himself, but even more so, he felt the need to defend Galena. "No! Your cousin and I did not sleep together!" Tyrion no longer cared to hold back as he let his voice rise. "We shared three bottles of wine, had some snacks, and made each other laugh. Afterwards, we said good night to each other. She stayed in her room, and I went to mine!" He put emphasis on his next words. "We did not sleep together. I did not sleep with Lena!"
Jon's head perked up at her nickname. "Then why are you calling her Lena? Only the people closest to her call her that. I would think that after sleeping with someone you would be entitled to a nickname."
Tyrion sighed loudly and deeply. He rubbed his face, and just as he was about to speak again, she did.
"Jon!" she scolded, her voice echoed across the room. All eyes turned to her. "How dare you!" she seethed. She stood in the doorway, her hands curled into furious fists.
"Lena," Jon breathed pathetically.
She shook her head at him, then stormed out.
Jon Snow followed.
Tyrion let out an exasperated sigh. He stood from his seat. "If you'll excuse me, your Grace, I could really use some time alone to cool off."
Daenerys nodded her consent, and watched as he left the dining hall.