Ughh . Fuck . Waltyr ' s shoulders slumped , his will to keep his back straight in his chair failing as he heard the pair of men talking outside his tent . ' Why couldn ' t have been born to a Hogg . ' He already didn ' t like the tone of the two fuckwits , their smug selfsatisfaction was easily identifiable . With a deep sigh , Waltyr turned in his seat to face the entrance to the tent , closing the ledger he had been working on , and grabbing a much needed cup of tea . Let them in , Petyr . The Lord ' s nephew eyed the two with some suspicion , particularly due to his Uncle ' s exasperation at their arrival . Nevertheless , he stood aside , pulling open the flap to the . Go on in , my lord . The well armored noble nodded as he waited for them to walk past . As the men entered , they were faced with Lord Waltyr sitting in his seat , now turned to face them . A solid frown adorned his face , and his arms were crossed , one hand holding the cup of steaming tea . Wipe that smug fucking grin off your face , Lyonel . The dark blue eyes darted to the man ' s companion , Pate . Though , with the sword swallowing he just gave you , I can imagine your struggle to do so . I know your titles , arse . Lord of Casterly Rock would have sufficed . Waltyr took a sip of his tea , rolling his eyes at his new visitors . After , using his for support , the man stood , motioning around the tent with the cup holding hand . Take a seat and be out with it , Lyonel . What is it ?