Author Note : This takes place about 2 or 3 years after season 8 with Jon and Dany on the throne. I scrapped everything in season 8 after the long night...so just pretend half the season didn't happen. I sleep better that way.

"I think that it is high time you got married Tyrion" Queen Daenerys told her Hand out of nowhere as they finished breaking their fast together as they did almost every morning with Jon (sorry King Aegon ) away from King's Landing attending to the latest crisis in the seven kingdoms. The Queen feasted on a large plate of fruit, enjoying every morsel. She had craved fruit during her last pregnancy in the dead of winter (given the circumstances perhaps DEAD of winter was a bad descriptor but accurate nonetheless) but had to do without along with everyone else. So during this spring pregnancy, she savored every bit. Tyrion of course preferred his fruit fermented in liquid form, which caused his throat and nose to burn when he choked upon his wine after hearing the Queen's comment.

"And why do you think that is your Grace?" Tyrion asked. "My brother and Ser Brienne have already produced two children and the way they can't keep their hands off each other I imagine the West well be entirely populated with giant blonde Lannisters for generations." He smiled thinking of his niece and new baby nephew. No they certainly didn't need his seed to carry on the Lannister name (nor would he want a child to suffer as he has). A small part of him did grieve however, he secretly would have loved to have been a father.

"You live like a bachelor, you take care of yourself-poorly-like a bachelor. You drink too much, eat too little, and work yourself, despite my assurances you shouldn't, into the ground. You won't keep an assistant for more than a moonturn or two…" .

"Well, stop sending me insufferable fools." Tyrion shot back interrupting her. This had been an argument they had had on more than one occasion. None of his assistants had ever been as good as his former squire Podrick, Ser Podrick now, who had taken over his Lady's oath upon her marriage to be sworn sword for House Stark and lived in Winterfell now...with her. Sansa Stark, Wardeness of the North, with hair of fire and eyes of ice. Some say the ice was in her veins too, but he knew better and found himself missing her company far more than a foolish old dwarf probably should. He took another long drink of his wine trying to extinguish the feelings that always accompanied the thoughts of his young, beautiful, and oh so tall former wife.

The Queen let out an exasperated sigh. "They were all fine young men. You are the insufferable one Lord Hand." She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The Queen was only in her fifth moonturn but nearly as large as she had been with Prince Jorah at the end. Rumors were beginning to circulate that she was carrying twins and Tyrion was inclined to believe it but did not feel it his place to ask. "I think," she continued, "that a wife might be able to help curb some of your more self destructive habits." She sighed giving him a gentle look she rarely used as she patted his hand in affection across the table. "You are also my friend above all else Tyrion and I want you to be happy. Happy as I am with Jon. I want you to have a partner to share your life with."

Tyrion sighed and wouldn't meet her eyes. He desperately wanted that too in the recesses of his heart but knew that love was not meant for an imp like him. He had loved Tysha-but that had all been a lie. He had loved Shae-but she had betrayed him in the end so he doubted that she had ever actually loved him. And his last wife Sansa of course had never loved him, had been forced to marry him. At Winterfell, during the war against the dead they had become friends again and that was the best he could hope for from a woman like Sansa Stark. Although, there has been some moments in the crypts during the long night where he had dared to hope and in fact had deluded himself into seeing something in her eyes that he felt too and had felt for years. All too quickly in his head, those soft, intimate looks in the crypts turned into the revulsion in her eyes that she had shown him on their wedding night. At last he spoke "I will not allow you to force a woman to marry me against her will. Never again."

A scowl crossed her face. "Tyrion, please look at me." He at last raised his head to meet her eyes. "I hope you know me better than that." she said softly as the morning light bathed her silver hair and he found her the spitting image of the Mother herself. 'Mhysa' is what her people in Essos called her. She truly was mother to all, not just dragons. It had been Jon's love and the child she bore him that had truly lifted her to the Queen she was always meant to be and turned her from the Queen of Fire and Blood he witnessed when she had executed the Tarleys. He shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if her Targaryen coin had flipped on the side of death and madness.

"I know that you are much prettier than my father." he japed, "and a million times kinder."

"Kindness is a trait I learned much of from you, my Hand." She paused before continuing, picking at her plate. "I will never force a marriage upon you or anybody. That is one of the primary reasons I will be holding the Spring Summit and Gala here at King's Landing for the next six weeks. So that the eligible Lords and Ladies of both major and minor houses can meet in person and get to know each other rather than being forced blindly into arranged marriages. All I am asking of you is to give the possibility of happiness a chance. There are going to be a great deal more women than men looking for spouses after years of war. You are Hand to the Queen after all making you one of Westerosi's most eligible bachelors. I think you will be surprised at the amount of women that would happily become your bride."

Yes, he thought, but not for me but for the power I may have. It made his heart drop. Voicing his fears he said "I will do as you wish, but I fear that some of these women will have ulterior motives. My history with women has shown that I'm not the best judge of character in matters such as these."

"Of course Varys will have his little birds to sort out some of the bad apples, as for the rest I have recruited help." she said with a wicked little smile as she popped a grape in her mouth. It was becoming clear to him that this plan had been in the works for weeks now.

"Help?" he said. This was getting worse by the second.

"Well of course your brother and goodsister are coming in hopes to make a match for your newly legitimized cousin Joy. I understand she is as beautiful as your sister was." Daenerys said.

"She is also clever, and shrewd much like my father. But compassionate and gentle like my mother was always reported to be." Tyrion said with affection for the beloved cousin of his favorite Uncle. "As much as I esteem my goodsister, she is not exactly a Lady to spend much of her time in the company of other Ladies and would rather be in the practice yard with her husband and the other knights. Ser Brienne also has a pure and open heart so she might not see any potential matches as anything but genuine. So in regards to my family, my cousin Joy will be a better judge of character but at ten and six she may not always be a reliable source of information. Doubly so if her head is turned by a young man of her own." he observed.

"And that is precisely why I asked someone else to assist you in this regard. Someone that is not here to marry, is perceptive to others motivations, will move easily among the other Ladies, and knows your very, very well." the Queen continued with a smirk clearly proud of her cleverness.

Tyrion's heart, already in his feet from this conversation, shattered and plummeted to the black cells. He of course knew who she was talking about and the thought of his former wife screening potential new ones was enough to make him want to jump out the nearest window. His misery, stirred some anger and resentment in him towards his Queen so he stole her thunder by asking "And Lady Stark has agreed to participate in this mummer's farce?" he said with a hard edge to his voice gulping down the rest of his wine.

Annoyed, Daenerys answered, "Yes she has. She holds you in the highest regard and wishes nothing but your happiness."

Yes, he thought, happiness with somebody else, someone that wasn't her. Because she would never be happy with a Lannister, a dwarf, with the husband she never wanted.

"That is very kind of her but won't she be busy with the actual summit, being Wardeness of the North? What you ask of her is a trivial and isn't she much too important to waste her time on such matters?" he replied.

"That is why I have the summit taking place over a long period of time my Lord Hand. The houses are here for two important reasons, for political reasons of trade and so forth, and to unite the seven kingdoms through potential marriages. Since my dear goodsister has made it known to Jon and myself she will never marry again she will have plenty of time to help you." She crossed her arms in frustration. "I thought this would please you. Lady Sansa and you are friends are you not? When we were at Winterfell and for the Coronation, you were almost always in her company when not with me or Jon."

"You are correct your Grace. We are friends." And that is all we ever will be he thought resignedly. He refilled his wine glass and decided to change the subject. "How does our King and Rhaegal fair with the Ironborn in the west? Have you received any new ravens?"

Tyrion returned to his rooms early that evening and looked at it with a new eye. Daenerys was completely right. He did live like a bachelor. There were papers, books, and notes everywhere. His bed was unkempt, he had dirty clothes in piles and plates stacked with half eaten food (or to be honest uneaten food) that was starting to smell. In short it was a pig sty and unbecoming to his station. He kept his room locked and would only allow the servants in if he was present. All of his important state secrets were supposed to be in his locked office the floor below in the Tower of the Hand, but in is current and ongoing state of disorganization he wasn't sure what was where. It had gotten bad enough in the last few weeks he had actually moved into one of the guest rooms to bathe and sleep, only coming in here to dress and look for books or papers he might need. However, with the arrival of his family in the next few days, every room would be needed.

It only took him an hour or so to remove any sensitive information to his office below after which he immediately spoke with his head maid. He asked for a bath to be drawn in the guest room while she and a team finally tackled his room that she had been bemoaning the filth of for weeks now. When he came back to his room an hour later, it sparkled like new, and there were even fresh flowers in the vases. He wondered if this is how it would always look if he took a wife. Would she allow him all his books? Would she change the decor to something more femine? He could almost imagine coming in to find her, lounging on a chair with her embroidery, her long red hair gleaming in the firelight smiling in delight at his return. He groaned knowing he had pictured Sansa in that roll. He tried to tell himself it was just a memory of a time from their brief marriage but knew it was a lie. She had never been happy for his company back then. And now… well it didn't matter did it?

He moved to his wardrobe to dress himself for bed and was startled by his appearance in the mirror. Tyrion avoided mirrors on a good day and he hadn't one of those in several moonturns. There was no particular reason for it, but truth be told he had slipped into a depression awhile ago and it was only getting worse. He used work to distract himself, to keep the demons at bay. But the voices and demons were becoming his only companions because at the core of it Tyrion was very, very lonely. He had Varys, Jon, and Daenerys all of whom were as busy as he. But he missed Jamie, Pod, even Bronn. He longed to be with his new nephew and niece as he missed Tommen and Myrcella terribly. But most of all he missed Sansa. He missed her hard earned smiles, her biting tongue, her clever mind, her bright blue eyes that cut to his very soul past his armor of sarcasm and wit.

Taking a hard look in the mirror, he took stock of what he had to work with. Oh good he thought, an old scarred dwarf with bags under his eyes and the gauntness of a hard winter still on his face. His beard was a mess and his curls unruly and neglected. He resolved to have the barber come tomorrow, there was no way he would let Sansa see him like this or his little niece Joanna for that matter. He'd probably frighten her looking like a wildman.

As he dressed his stunted form and observed the disheveled mad looking dwarf in the mirror he started laughing hysterically. He pointed at the mirror "Westerosi's most eligible bachelor? Try Westeros's least desirable bachelor!"

He slammed the wardrobe door shut, leaving the crazed, ugly dwarf behind and crawled laughing into the giant bed he slept in alone. His laughs quickly turned into desperate sobs that racked his body until he was claimed by the blissful darkness of a dreamless sleep.