PARADISA

[After Lysa Stark's little episode in the Vale, and finding himself summarily moved from the Tower of the Hand while he was injured, he had hoped not to wake up somewhere unexpected again for the rest of his life. Apparently that was too much to ask for.

There is the sound of banging through the journal as Tyrion kicks the door, trying to call a jailer's attention, not wanting to make a fool of himself by trying to open a doubtlessly locked door. When he speaks, his voice is almost mocking, with just a biting edge of sarcasm beneath it.]

I find that this is growing old. I don't mean to be ungrateful for the hospitality, it's only that I mustn't be away from King's Landing for too long or the whores all start despairing. It's a tragedy to let a pair of teats go to waste like that, you know, and I'm sure you don't want that on your conscience.

...Hello?

[When his usual patter is eliciting no response, not even a cursory yell to be quiet, he starts to lose the false humour from his voice, kicking the door again.]

Hey! HEY! Whatever my sister has paid you, I will double it. HELLO?