Chapter 13 Tyrion

(Hello everyone! So, this is a fanfic that I've been working on for a while now. I borrowed several elements from Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire. This is my first fanfic on this site, so constructive criticism is welcome. Appreciate!)

"And here I thought to meet you again in King's Landing," Tyrion Lannister said to his brother Jaime after the Blackfish finally consented to giving them some privacy for their meeting and left, closing the door behind him.

"You and your thrice damned wish to see the Wall," his brother Jaime said with a grin from across the small table in his stuffy room where he was held prisoner in Riverrun. He looked well for a man with manacles on his hands, Tyrion thought. He was thinner, to be sure, but his hair had been washed recently, and it looked like his beard and hair had been trimmed as well. His clothing, while rather plain and a dull brown color, seemed clean and neat.

"Yes," said Tyrion as he sat down in the second chair. "My visit to the Wall is to blame for this war and all the madness that came from it."

"If you had been where you should have been you would never have been taken prisoner by Catelyn Stark."

"What is done is done, brother. And I was not the one to try to kill Brandon Stark, thank you for asking. Twice it seems someone tried to kill him, and failing both times."

Jaime stared at him, and then grinned in his usual confident way. "The Stark boy fell. Gods knows who paid the assassin. Not you, I am sure."

"Not me," Tyrion replied. "As I have said often and loudly to Ned Stark on our journeys."

"Tell me all of your adventures."

"I have a thirst that needs quenching first." Tyrion reached for the clay jug on the table, looked inside, sniffed and then cursed. "Water! I have a thirst, but for something a little stronger."

"My gaolers have been most remiss in providing me with any creature comforts," Jaime said. "Although I guess I shouldn't complain. I heard Cersei had Ned Stark in the black cells."

"Indeed," said Tyrion. "She was most put out when he tried to push her aside after Robert died. Stark claims he had a letter from Robert naming him protector of the land, or realm, or something like that. She tore it up in front of the whole court."

"That's our lovely sister," Jaime said with a bit of a laugh.

"A foolish bit of theater," Tyrion replied strongly and Jaime's face fell. "Stark was no danger to our family."

"He was going to arrest her and the children!"

"Ned Stark is too honorable to have hurt them. He claims he wanted to protect them."

"He wanted the throne!"

"Not really, dear brother," Tyrion said quietly. "He wanted to go home, before you and your men assaulted him in the streets. And then the honorable oaf wanted justice, for crimes he thinks our family committed."

"What crimes?" his brother asked and Tyrion knew he knew what he was talking about.

Tyrion did not want to get to this point so fast, but here it was and it had to be discussed. He wanted the truth, the truth he had suspected for years.

"Brother, I care for you deeply," he said. "So I would like to speak frankly and have this done with so I know where things stand. I will never tell Father, surely you know that. But I will have some truths from you."

Jaime grinned in his usual carefree way, as if he had no worries in the world, despite his present predicament. "Ask me anything you want."

So that's how he wants it. So be it. "How long have you been fucking our dear sweet sister?"

He saw anger flash in his brother's eyes, an anger that subsided before Jamie gave another grin and spoke in a joking way. "Have you been reading Stannis Baratheon's latest lies?"

"No, Jaime, I have been reading you and Cersei for years. Reading your body language, reading the looks you share, reading how you and she always seemed to be not about at the same time, and then suddenly appearing together. Especially reading how much time you spent with her whenever Robert was not around."

Now Jaime was angry. "Ned Stark was reading too, reading a book about the great houses, listening to poison put in his head by Stannis or Jon Arryn or someone else. He seemed to come to the foolish conclusion that Robert's children were not his. Do you believe they are mine, dear brother?"

"I have seen one of Robert's bastard sons," Tyrion replied. "A bastard of King's Landing aged fifteen years, name of Waters, of course, but still his son. He has jet black hair, and deep blue eyes, Robert's square jaw, black beard, and his bulk. In a funny sort of twist the boy happens to be training to be a smith, an armorer to be more exact, and wields a hammer as his father once did."

"So Robert has a bastard son. I am sure he is not the only one."

"No, indeed not. Ned Stark knows of two other children. Mya Stone and Edric Storm. Bastards yes, but apparently all with Robert's look. Only the gods knows how many more bastards he has scattered throughout the Seven Kingdoms."

"What does that prove?" Jaime shot back. "That Robert Baratheon was an unfaithful husband to our sister is all."

Tyrion shook his head. "No. It proves that Jon Arryn's last words have some meaning. Ned Stark and I had long discussions on the matter. Jon Arryn repeatedly said "the seed is strong" on his death bed. He meant Robert's seed, that his seed was dominant. Stark told me all of the Baratheon children in the male line for almost three hundred years, since their line began, have been black haired and blue eye. That is until Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. Fair haired and green eyed. Like Cersei. And you."

Jaime stared at him for a long time as the words hung in the air, and on his face Tyrion at first saw another protest building and then suddenly Jaime's face fell and Tyrion saw resignation. Finally Jaime spoke, very quietly, his eyes looking down at the table, not at his brother. "They must never know."

Tyrion knew who 'they' were. Jaime and Cersei's children.

"Not from me, dear brother," Tyrion said. "But…Stannis' letters…Joffrey is sure to have heard by now."

Jaime looked up and Tyrion saw the hurt and pain in his eyes, the pain of living a lie for so long, a lie that was finally revealed. "Cersei will tell him it's a lie."

"Of course she will. She is used to lying about it by now. But she didn't lie to Ned Stark. She told him the truth when he confronted her."

That shook him, he could see, and Tyrion knew that was something Cersei had never told him, never had time to tell him perhaps before all this began. Jaime grew angry again. "Then why have you been playing this mummer's farce with me if you knew the truth?"

"Stark might have lied. And I needed to hear it from you."

Jaime grunted. "Now you know. And what's does our little brother think of his big brother and big sister's crime?"

Tyrion shrugged. "I should be aghast, horrified, and sickened. But strangely I find myself indifferent. Maybe it's because I have suspected this for many years, so I have grown used to it. But it does leave many unanswered questions such as…"

"I threw the Stark boy out the window," Jaime said in a bare whisper.

"Ah…so, Ned Stark had the right of that as well. The boy saw you and Cersei?"

"Yes. He was climbing the walls and saw us through a window."

Tyrion sighed heavily. "And the footpad with the dagger who.."

Now Jaime's eyes flashed dangerously. "I will take blame for the rest but it was not me who paid the assassin!"

No, Tyrion thought, he is not lying about that. "Then it was Cer…"

"No, no, and no!" Jaime quickly said. "She had nothing to do with it either. Oh, she was so angry after I did it. She wanted to claw my eyes out. She said she could have silenced him, said she could convince him he was confused, didn't know what he had seen. And who ever believes the stories of a child? Afterwards I knew she was right. I knew it was a mistake to push the boy. But then it was too late."

"Is this regret brother?" That was odd for him, Tyrion thought. His brother had seldom regretted anything in his life.

"Perhaps," he answered.

"Ned Stark and his wife think I paid the assassin."

"I know. You have my apologies for that."

Tyrion snorted. "It was not you who made them think it was me. It was Petyr Baelish, who Cersei has now arrested, according to the latest raven before we left Harrenhal."

"Really? Littlefinger arrested? There is much and more you have yet to tell me. Now that we have gotten that ugly business out of the way, my first request still stands. I would hear of your adventures."

And so they talked, for more than an hour, and Tyrion told him all that had happened and all he suspected. When he finished and Jaime had no more questions, they got to the serious business of setting him free.

"What terms has our lord father offered the Starks?"

"The release of their daughters for you to begin with."

"Of course."

"Robb Stark, the other northern lords and the Riverlands lords must swear fealty to Joffrey."

"They won't go to King's Landing."

"It will be done here, to you."

"How fitting. Rickard Karstark won't bend the knee."

"Oh? Why not? Does he have a bad back?"

"I killed two of his sons in the Whispering Wood. He wants my head."

"He can't have it," Tyrion said strongly. "That is for Ned Stark to settle. Second, all of Robb Stark's men from the north will retire to the Twins and then…I fear to tell you this, but Father has offered them a hostage. Myrcella."

Jaime grunted. "A hostage for Father's future goodwill, no doubt."

"Yes," Tyrion told him."Stark is no fool, despite his mistakes in Kings' Landing. He knows Father will come after him and his son one day. Myrcella is his protection against that."

"Wise. Is there anything else?" Jaime asked next. He seemed strangely detached from the notion of his daughter being made a hostage, Tyrion thought. Then again, for years he has kept his distance from them, so maybe he has no strong feelings for his children.

"Just the usual. Exchanging and ransoming of minor prisoners, returning of bones of the dead in King's Landing, and certain items, such as Stark's sword Ice."

"Minor points," Jaime said. "The main problem will be Stark convincing his men to trade me for two girls."

"He will convince them. You know the Stark words?"

"Winter is coming."

"Yes. And it seems sooner than we thought. Stark has said this to me a number of times in the past few weeks. If we don't prepare now we are doomed."

Jaime snorted. "The Starks are always so dour and pessimistic. We have both seen winter. It is nothing to be sneered at but it is not as fearsome as the Stark's make out."

"We have seen southern winters, brother, and short ones at that. The one I remember when I was a boy of almost eight lasted less than a year."

"More," Jaime said. "That was the year of the false spring, and then the snows returned for another six months."

"Was it that year? I suppose you are right."

Jaime cared not to reminisce over winter's past and was more concerned with matters present. "When will I be exchanged?"

"I know not. We have heard more from Cersei. Along with the news of Baelish's arrest she said that Sansa Stark has left the city and is on her way to Harrenhal with an escort. Myrcella is with them, with the Hound as her shield."

"The Hound? He is Joffrey's shield."

"Apparently not anymore. Arya Stark is at Harrenhal already, so it is just a matter of when we can iron out the details and Sansa Stark arrives."

Jaime sighed. "Another week or more at least."

Tyrion nodded. "Afraid so brother."

"I would ask you to help set me free but I suppose that would put a damper on negotiations."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "Indeed it would. Are you anxious to have both our heads put on spikes on Riverrun's highest wall?"

Jamie laughed. "They would never kill us. They know they would never get their precious daughters back."

"No, perhaps not, but they would toss me in here with you or perhaps even a drearier place. And they would kill the men with me and that we cannot have. So, sorry, but you will have to wait to taste freedom again."

"You know I hate waiting."

"It can't be helped," Tyrion told him, hoping he was rid of the foolish notion of an escape attempt. If Father had sent any other man perhaps Jaime would have convinced them or bullied them into trying. "Now, I must get some wine and food and see that my squire has taken care of my horse. Can I ask them to provide you with anything?"

"I'd ask for a woman but we both know I care not for any but one."

"Do you love her?" Tyrion asked in a quiet voice.

"Always," Jaime said swiftly. "And you as well brother."

Tyrion felt his throat constrict, always knowing his brother felt this way, but seldom hearing it. "As I you," he managed to say. "I will see that you get some better food and a bit of wine. Perhaps on the morrow."

"Splendid. Keep me informed, dear brother. I long for the day I will be free. And then it's off to beat the Baratheon brothers."

"More war. Oh, joy," Tyrion quipped. "But not for me. I am to go to King's Landing to be Hand to Joffrey." Tyrion had mentioned this in his story about his travels. "Of course, King's Landing may be where the war is by the time I take up my duties."

"I think I would rather face a thousand swords alone than be Hand," Jaime told him.

"Yes. The position seems cursed. Maybe I can beg Father for a reprieve. Perhaps I would be of more use counting sheep and casks of wine with the supply columns."

Jaime laughed. "Father uses men where they are most talented, little brother. He knows I have a sharp sword and you have a sharp mind."

"It took him long enough to realize that," Tyrion said and for a long few moments they said nothing. "Well, I think I have a flask of wine or two awaiting me in whatever dreary corner of the castle they will put me."

They made their farewells, with Tyrion promising to return with some wine and good food on the morrow. Tyrion knocked on the door, it was unlocked and he left. The Blackfish hadn't waited for him as Tyrion knew he would not. The guards gave him vague directions to the courtyard and after many false turns and many flights of stairs he found it. Pod was by the stables brushing their horses. Another young boy was there and he said he was instructed to bring them to their quarters and had been waiting for him. Fortunately, they were in a lower lever of the towering Keep so there were few stairs to climb and soon they had settled into some modest rooms.

Tyrion now wished he had brought Shae with him but it would have been too risky under his father's nose. He had plenty of chances to see her at Harrenhal, with its many empty rooms and secret places, but he couldn't very well ride out the main gate with her while his father was watching. They had brought no wagons with them where she could have hidden like the first time when he had went in search of Ned Stark. All their provisions they carried on horseback with Ser Jason's men. For one mad moment he thought of disguising Shae as a cavalry man but let his madness pass.

He also missed Bronn. While he feared no attack while under a peace banner, he did worry if negotiations broke down. But then again, Bronn would also be surrounded by Stark men and the rest and would die uselessly if they decided to take Tyrion prisoner as well as his brother. No, they would not do that he decided. Ned Stark truly wanted to end the war. As he thought on this a knock came to their door and a comely serving girl with blond hair brought in some food for them. It was mutton stew with potatoes and carrots, lots of thick slices of brown bread, some apples and pears on the side, and a flask of wine and a jug of ale. Now that was more like it.

Tyrion thanked the women and gave her a smile which she quickly turned away from and then left. "Maybe she doesn't like my hair style," he quipped to Pod.

"Yes, my lord," the boy said as they sat at a small table.

"A jest, Pod. You know, you really must learn to tell the difference."

"I will try, my lord."

"Good. Now let us eat this fine meal and have us a good drink to wash it down with."

That night Tyrion was resting in his room lying on his bed, reading a book by candlelight as Pod snoozed in the other bed. The room had a small window which looked out over the inner courtyard. Tyrion felt a chill in the air and moved to the window to close the wooden shutters for the night when he heard loud shouting from the courtyard. He got up but could barely see out the window even on his tiptoes. He got a chair and soon had a nice view of what was happening. Many men were in the courtyard, some on the ground, some on horseback. He saw a banner and knew it was the Karstarks.

"Oh, oh, trouble," he said aloud. But Ned Stark, his son, the Greatjon Umber, the Blackfish, Ser Edmure and many others were there as well. Ned seemed to be talking to one older man, who Tyrion guessed was Rickard Karstark. Suddenly the man pulled away from Ned.

"I will have justice for my sons!' he shouted. "I want the Kingslayer! Now!"

"You cannot have him!" Ned shouted back. "Rickard, old friend, listen to reason!"

"There is no reason!" Karstark shouted. "My sons are dead. All of your children are still alive!"

"Sansa and Arya are prisoners!" Robb yelled at Karstark.

"Aye," said Karstark. "And you would trade the murderer of my sons for two little girls. My sons who gave their lives so you could live." He spit on the ground. "I will not stand by while this happens. I will not bend the knee to the false king. I will have the Kingslayer or I will take my men and go home to bury my sons."

"Then you are an oath breaker!" the booming voice of the Greatjon shouted, heard all over the castle no doubt.

Karstark shouted back. "Oath breaker is it! My oath was to Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. Not to his pup of a son who will not give me justice!" Then there were many angry shouts and cross words flew in both directions. Ned Stark and his son said nothing but waited for them to calm down. Then Ned Stark walked into the middle of the two groups.

"Lord Karstark has lost his sons," he began. "We can do nothing to bring them back. And we cannot give him the justice he asks for. Many others of you have lost family in this war. I cannot give you justice either. The Riverlands people have lost much and more than all of us. And they will get no justice either. My lords, I am no longer Lord of Winterfell, this is true. But you know my family's words. Winter is coming, truly coming, and I fear after this long summer it will be a most terrible winter. We must cast aside our differences and prepare. We must bend the knee as my forefather did to Aegon the Conqueror. It hurts a man's pride to bend the knee, I know. But a man who bends the knee may rise again someday. A man who does not will die."

They were silent for a long moment and then Karstark spit on the ground at Ned's feet. "I will not bend the knee. I will go home unless I get justice."

"So be it," Ned said. He looked at his son then.

Robb spoke in a quieter voice and Tyrion strained to hear him. "I am Lord of Winterfell now," he told Karstark. "Your oath is to the Lord of Winterfell, whether he be my father or his pup of a son. Your oath is also to the people of the north. If you go you will have broken your oath to me and to these other men and to the north. We will not stop you. But know this, Lord Karstark. You and yours will be shunned in the north. No family will trade with yours. No family will offer sons or daughters in marriage. No family will offer you help in times of trouble. You will be isolated. You will be alone, forever. All of these lords agree."

As one every northern lord in the courtyard shouted "Aye!"

Oh, that was smart, Tyrion thought. The father and son must have planned this well. How would Karstark take it?

"Then we will be alone," he said, a sound of defeat in his voice. "If I had more men I would fight you all and kill the Kingslayer. But I do not. So I will go home, and bury my sons and me and mine will live our lives as you say. It shames me that we have come to this because of a Lannister."

No one else said a word. And with that Karstark and his men turned around and started to leave the courtyard out the main gate and across the drawbridge over the moat. Tyrion could feel the tension leave the group of men below as they stood talking in lowered voices.

He closed the shutters and turned and Pod was standing right behind him. Tyrion was so surprised he almost fell off the chair.

"Sorry, my lord," Pod said as he grabbed Tryion's arm to steady him. He so happened to grab the right arm, at the elbow, and Tyrion could not help but wince in pain, causing Pod to let go and profusely apologize. The elbow no longer required a sling but was still a bit tender to the touch.

"Not to worry," he told his squire as he hopped down from the chair. "Did you hear all of that?"

"Mostly."

"Seems we have avoided trouble, for the moment. Well, we shall see on the morrow. We must present my lord father's terms before the lords assembled here. You will accompany me."

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Now get some rest."

The next morning breakfast was brought to their rooms and after they ate and had dressed the Blackfish showed up.

"Ser Edmure and Lord Stark request your presence in the great hall, Imp," the Blackfish told him. "It is time to discuss your father's terms."

"Splendid," Tyrion replied. "I am ready. My squire will accompany me."

"No weapons," the Blackfish told them, looking at a dagger on Pod's belt.

"Of course not," Tyrion answered. "We are here to make peace, not war. Pod, remove your dagger."

"Yes, my lord," he replied and took the dagger out of its sheath and laid it on the table. On the table was a scroll, sealed with gold wax and his father's sigil. Pod picked it up and held it tight.

Tyrion and Pod followed the Blackfish and in a short time they were at the great hall. As far as great halls went, the great hall of Riverrun was bigger than many and smaller than some. It had nothing on the one in King's Landing and was tiny compared to Harrenhal's massive great hall with its many heaths. But it was still large enough to hold all of the northern and Riverlands lords, plus many others.

The trestle tables and benches had been placed along the walls, and they were now occupied by many men, mostly lords and their captains, Tyrion guessed. He did not know all their names, but that mattered not. He saw many cups and mugs of wine and ale and knew they had been drinking. That was not good. Then he cast his mismatched eyes on the raised platform at the end of the hall. Ser Edmure as heir to Riverrun took his father's seat in the large wooden throne like chair in the center that had a leaping fish carved in its high back. On his right sat Robb Stark, and on his left Catelyn Stark, his sister. The Blackfish went and stood beside his niece. And there was Ned Stark, sitting on a small chair beside his son. All were dressed in their finest clothing. Well, as fine as could be expected for an army on the march. Even Ned Stark had been given more refined clothing and Tyrion suddenly felt like he should have taken more care to bring better clothing. But most of his belongings were now in King's Landing and what he had brought to Winterfell and the Wall had been lost when he was captured. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now.

As Tyrion waddled to the middle of the room in front of the Tullys and Starks, with Pod right behind him, he felt every eye on him and also felt their hatred. Then the Blackfish shouted loudly.

"Lord Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock!" And then the silence was overwhelming. At least he didn't call me Imp, Tyrion thought. That is a good sign.

Ser Edmure spoke first. "Lord Tyrion, we have gathered to hear what terms you have brought."

Tyrion turned to Pod, who handed him the scroll. Tyrion then opened it and read.

"I am commanded to present these terms by order of my father, Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock, representing Joffrey Baratheon, First of His Name, King of …"

"False king!" someone shouted and there was a general murmur of agreement from the benches. Ser Edmure rose from his chair and Tyrion could see he was angry and so were the Starks and the Blackfish.

"Lord Tyrion has come under a peace banner!" Ser Edmure said loudly. "We will hear him out in a respectful manner."

"Not to worry, Ser Edmure," Tyrion said. "There is no need for me to go on about my nephew's titles. I shall get right to the main points."

"As you wish," said Ser Edmure.

Tyrion gave a short bow and then read. "Terms as discussed between Lords Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock. Point 1. Both sides will exchange a herald, who will be responsible for seeing the terms of the agreement are reached. Said herald will be considered a neutral party and shall be treated according to his rank."

"Point 2. Ser Jaime Lannister shall be exchanged for Lady Sansa Stark and Lady Arya Stark at a place and time to be determined in the future." That brought some murmurs of discontent and Tyrion knew the Starks hadn't brought everyone to their point of view.

"Point 3. All other prisoners shall be exchanged and ransomed as negotiated between those who captured them and the prisoners' families. Prisoners may be exchanged without ransom payment or with, as each case is agreed to by each party. A detailed list of all prisoners will be provided by each side. As both parties agree that the ransoming of prisoners may take a long time, its completion shall not infringe on the completion of any other point." He knew his father put that final part in so he wouldn't be delayed in moving south while petty lords and minor knights squabbled over ransom money.

Tyrion paused for a second and no one said anything so he continued. "Point 4. The northern host commanded by Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell shall retire from Riverrun and proceed to the Twins on the Green Fork of the Trident River within three days of a formal agreement being reached."

"Point 5. The lord paramount of the Riverlands, Lord Hoster Tully, or his representative, shall command his bannermen to return to their home seats, also within three days of a formal agreement being reached."

"Point 6…" Tyrion paused, knowing this one was going to cause trouble. He looked up at Ned Stark and he saw him bracing for it as well. "Point 6…all northern lords and the lords of the Riverlands shall swear fealty to Joffrey Bara…"

"Lannister!" someone shouted. "Joffrey Lannister he means!" and then there was some laughter and shouts of "infamy" "incest" "bastard for a king" and then Ned Stark was on his feet, shouting, and soon the uproar ended.

"We are not here to discuss the parentage of the King," Stark told them in a loud and commanding tone. "Lord Tyrion has brought us terms. We have discussed these terms. When he finishes we shall give him our answer." There was silence. "Thank you, my lords," Stark said as he sat down again.

Tyrion took a deep breath and continued, deciding to again skip all of Joffrey's titles. "Said oath of fealty may be taken here in Riverrun to a representative of the King."

"Not the Kingslayer!" the Greatjon Umber shouted and more men voiced their agreement and Ser Edmure this time had to stand and silence them before Tyrion could continue. If not Jaime then who, he thought and then had a dreaded feeling it would be him. Which would be more preferable my lords and ladies, the Kingslayer or the Imp?

Tyrion continued. "Point 7. The Princess Myrcella Baratheon shall be sent as a ward to Winterfell. She shall be accompanied by a guard and some attendants as befitting her rank. Winterfell shall provide suitable accommodations for the Princess and her retainers. Winterfell shall see to the education of the Princess. The Princess will be allowed to make regular communications with her family and shall be allowed visitors on occasion. When the Princess reaches her fifteenth name day she will return to her family."

Tyrion expected some disagreement over that but no one said much except for a few low murmurs from the benches. Myrcella's fifteenth name day was less than six years from now. Perhaps Stark was gambling that Tyrion's father's wrath would be cooled by then. Tyrion knew it would not.

He continued to read the terms. "Point 8. Once the Princess Myrcella joins the northern host, the northern host shall retire north of the lands known as the Neck and shall not proceed south of this point without permission of the King." Tyrion knew Joffrey would never give permission, and also knew that no northern host would ever leave the north again except to come help put all their heads on spikes if the Baratheon brothers gained some significant victories. Another king or a man not as wise as his father might have made them join his army to fight the Baratheons, but such a forced ally at his side might show its true colors at the wrong moment.

"Point 9. Lord Eddard Stark's loss of titles and lands shall remain in effect. He shall take the black and join the Night's Watch as he swore an oath to. His titles and lands shall pass to his eldest son and his son's future heirs." Again there was some low murmuring on this point but no one shouted. Tyrion paused and looked at Stark and then his wife but neither one's face betrayed any emotion on this point. He wondered if Stark really planned to take the black.

"Point 10," Tyrion continued. "The remains of the dead of Lord Eddard Stark's household in King's Landing shall be returned to the north as speedily as possible. All of their personal effects shall be returned as well, if possible. The sword named Ice shall also be returned as speedily as possible."

"Point 11. These terms shall be formally agreed to by a signing ceremony between representatives of both sides. The place and time of such ceremony shall be decided in the future." Tyrion paused and took a breath. "My lords and lady, these are my father's terms. I await your answer on whether they are acceptable or not."

Now Robb Stark rose from his chair, his parents' and every other eye in the room on this boy of fifteen. "The terms as given are acceptable. Except we would like to add two points."

Oh, joy, Tyrion thought. Here's where the fun begins. "I shall listen to your requests and bring them to my lord father."

"First," Robb said. "We request one million gold dragons as compensation for the damages caused by your father's army to the Riverlands."

"That is a substantial amount," Tyrion said, a bit surprised by this request.

"Just tell your father to spend a few hours on the privy!" the Greatjon yelled out and great gales of laughter followed from those on the benches. But no one on the raised platform was laughing.

Tyrion waited for the laughter to die down and then he smiled. "You know, my lords, when I was a boy I sometimes snuck into his privy after he was done but I never found any gold. Alas, my father does not shit gold, my lords." After a stunned pause there was a second round of laughter, not as great as the first but laughter the same. Tyrion grinned and then took a glance at Lady Stark and saw a worried look on her face. Tyrion knew what she was thinking, but he also knew he had no chance to win these stern lords to his side. They were not sellswords, and hated him and his family too much.

After the laughter died Robb Stark continued. "Your father has that much and more hidden away in Casterly Rock. But we are not too greedy. The amount may be paid in gold or kind. In particular, the amount may be paid in animal herds and stored grain and other foodstuffs. Your father's armies have devastated the lands and winter is coming."

"Coming to Casterly Rock, as well," said Tyrion. "I believe my father would more willing part with his gold than the food our people will need. However, while we do have gold enough to make compensation, this point may cause us some difficulties, my lord. My father would not want to set a precedent of people asking for money for the things he does in time of war."

"We can camp here for a few more months if he is reluctant to part with his gold or food," Robb said sternly. "Perhaps by that time Stannis and Renly will set aside their differences and sack King's Landing once again. Let him decide if it is worth having his daughter's and grandson's heads on spikes to save his pride from being wounded."

"I shall bring him your request," Tyrion said, knowing his father would eventually agree. "There was one more point, was there not?"

Now Catelyn Stark stood as her son sat down. She had a look of calm regal elegance to her, and wore a lovely deep blue dress which set off her auburn hair nicely. "I have one more request," she said in a strong voice. "Someone attacked my son Bran, twice, at Winterfell. He is a cripple now and I will bear the scars of those attacks all my life, both outside and inside," she said as she held up her scarred hands for all to see and there was more angry murmuring. "I will have justice for my son."

"My lady," Tyrion began, dreading this moment, and, being a smart man, he had suspected it would come. "Your accusations against me have been the cause of much of this misery we are now here to end. I…"

"No, Imp," the Blackfish growled. Ah, there it was, his dreaded nickname. "She was not the cause. It was whoever pushed Bran off the tower and paid an assassin to kill him. That person is to blame for all of this."

Tyrion sighed. This would be just like with Catelyn and Ned all over again. Endless questions, endless denials. He would not give them the satisfaction of questioning him over things he wanted to forget. "What would you have me do, my lady?" he asked Catelyn Stark, looking directly at her.

"I would have the truth from you, but that would be too much to ask," she said. "I have thought long on your guilt in these matters and have discussed it at length with my son and husband. I.."

"Am I on trial again?" Tyrion asked suddenly, losing patience. "I thought I came here under a peace banner to…"

"Hold your tongue!" she almost shouted at him, but restrained herself to make it only a stern command. "I was about to say we now have doubts about your guilt."

Ah, so that's it. Now he had to be careful here. No quips or they would pull out his tongue for sure, peace banner or no. He knew it took a lot for her to say that in front of these people, to admit her mistake, and he would not hurt her with a stinging rebuke, much as he would like to. "I thank you for your honesty, Lady Stark. I bear no hard feelings for what happened." The hell I don't, Tyrion said to himself.

"I am not finished," she said next. "I believe you know who attacked my son. I believe you are protecting someone in your family."

"I assure you I do not know who did this," he lied. They still think it was Jaime and Cersei. And now I know it was, Jaime at least, but I can't very well say that or we'll never leave here with our heads. "Your husband and I discussed this many times, and many times we reached no conclusion."

"All Lannisters are liars!" shouted someone from his left side. "Have out his tongue!" another voice shouted from behind him, and many said 'aye' to this last comment.

Catelyn Stark sighed. "If you will not give us the truth then as the last point in these peace terms we request a formal investigation into what happened to Bran. When the war is concluded, we would ask that a neutral party of lords to come to Winterfell and question him and discover the truth. And then we want those responsible brought to justice."

Tyrion nodded. "I shall give my father your request." He knew it was just an empty promise and by the look on Ned Stark's face he knew it was too. Perhaps he only allowed this to please his wife. What neutral lords were there in the land anyway? Almost everyone was at war. The only neutrals in the war so far were the Vale, the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands, and the Martells of Dorne. The Vale was run by a soft headed woman and her horrid son, who had Tully blood and were no neutrals as far as Tyrion was concerned. As for the others, the Greyjoys hated the Starks and the Martells hated the Lannisters. There were no true neutrals in the Seven Kingdoms.

As Tyrion finished promising to tell his father their requests Lady Stark nodded and sat and now Ser Edmure rose again. "Then Lord Tyrion we are done with these negotiations. A swift response to our requests will sooner bring an end to our war. The maester of Riverrun will send a raven to Harrenhal with our additional requests. You may write to your father and let him know."

Ned Stark now stood. "I think two ravens should be sent to make sure the message gets through. And I would request my daughter Arya write back to tell me how she is. Also ask for news of Sansa."

"I shall do as you ask," Tyrion said. Ned Stark did not know Sansa had already left King's Landing. His father told him to keep that point a secret, for now.

"Then we are done for the moment," Ser Edmure told him. "You may dine with us tonight if you wish, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion grinned. He knew they didn't want him at their table; he was just being formal. "I would like that," he answered. "But I don't think many of your lords would. No, I shall have to respectively decline. I will sup with my men outside the walls, if that is acceptable."

"As you wish," said Ser Edmure. "Ah, here is the maester now."

Tyrion made his goodbyes and the hall begin to fill with talk as the maester led him and Pod to the castle raven roost. As they walked Tyrion thought on what was not said. No one mentioned the absent Karstarks or what had happened last night. Tyrion wondered if he should include that information in his letter but knew the maester would read it and report all to the Starks and Tullys. Would his father drag this out to make the Karstarks bend the knee? Most likely not, not with so much at stake in the south.

They stopped first at a small room below where the birds were kept. The noise of the ravens above their heads was very loud. The maester gave him ink and a quill and Tyrion wrote out the messages in as small as script as he could so he could write more. After he made the two copies they ascended to the noisy roost where the cold wind blowing through the many windows made the smell of bird shit just a little bit more bearable. The maester selected two ravens. "I do hope they get through and come back," he said. "They are my only ravens for Harrenhal."

"I am sure they will find their way home. Maester, may I ask a question?"

"You may, my lord," said the old man as he attached the first rolled up message to a raven.

"How is Lord Tully?"

The maester sighed. "Not long for this world, I am afraid."

"Then Ser Edmure will soon be master of Riverrun?"

"Yes, my lord." He then threw the first raven out a window and it was soon flying away.

"He seems like a reasonable fellow."

"Oh, Ser Edmure is quite the fine man." The maester replied as he began attaching the second tightly rolled parchment to the second raven.

"The Tullys don't like me or my family," Tyrion said in a matter of fact way.

"For good reasons, my lord." Then the second bird was away.

"Yes. I cannot deny that. Thank you, maester. We will find our way out."

A bit later he and Pod arrived outside the walls of the castle and crossed the moat. The Stark and Tully camps were smelly and noisy and had the sounds of men practicing for war and trying to relieve their boredom. At the small camp where Bronn and Ser Jason were set up, near the moat, he found Bronn sitting on a camp chair outside a grey tent, honing his sword's edge with long, loving strokes of a whetstone. A clay jug of something was on the ground by his chair. He didn't make a move as Tyrion and Pod approached.

"How fair things, Bronn?" Tyrion asked as he picked up the jug, sniffed, and then drank some wine, sour stuff but still refreshing.

"Not too bad," Bronn replied. "The food is fair but the wine is shit."

"Yes," said Tyrion as he drank again. "But negotiating gives me a thirst and hospitality was thin on the ground inside this morning." He turned to his squire. "Pod, find me a chair and also find Ser Jason."

"Yes, my lord."

After Pod left, Bronn continued sharpening his sword. Tyrion felt cramps burning in his legs. Too many damn stairs up and down to the raven roost. "You know Bronn, most men would offer their only chair to their lord."

"Aye, but you're not my lord."

Tyrion felt his hackles rising. "I have been walking up and down these damnable stairs inside and…"

Bronn stood. "No need to cry over it. The chair is yours."

"Thank you," said Tyrion as he sat and felt the cramps in his short legs ease. Bronn easily lowered himself to the ground and continued to sharpen his sword.

"So, how did we do?" Bronn asked as Tyrion drank some more.

"They agreed to everything. Except they want gold or food for the damage my father's army caused."

"Sounds fair. I'm sure he has the gold at least."

"He does. But it will rankle him to give it to them. They also want a formal investigation into what happened to Brandon Stark."

"You knew they wouldn't let that go."

"Yes."

"How's your brother?" Bronn asked next.

"Well as can be expected. Thinner, and bored out of his mind. At least they gave him a bath and a haircut."

"Most likely only when they knew you was coming."

Tyrion chuckled. "Yes." Then his mood grew serious. "He asked me to help him escape."

"Aye? Well, good luck with that."

"I knew you would never be foolish enough to involve yourself in such a mad scheme. Of course I told him no."

"Good."

"Yes, but we may have trouble yet."

"Oh?"

Tyrion explained about the Karstarks. "Aye," said Bronn. "We heard a lot of noise last night when that lot crossed the bridge. They rode off across the Tumblestone and then off to the north."

"They could be anywhere now," Tyrion said. "Lying in ambush for us when we return to Harrenhal, for instance. I am not the one who killed Lord Karstark's sons but I am a Lannister still the same. I should like to keep my head."

Just then Pod returned with Ser Jason but no chair, but by now Tyrion was comfortable and did not care. They talked long on what had happened inside and knew they would have to wait a few days to hear from Lord Tywin on what to do next.

"Now it is just waiting," said Tyrion to them. "Waiting for my father's messages. Waiting for Sansa Stark to get to Harrenhal. Waiting for her and her sister to be traded for Jaime."

"And then what?" Bronn asked.

"Then we go south," Tyrion said ruefully. "To King's Landing, finally. And back into the war. Let us hope Ned Stark keeps his promises and we have no northern army at our back while we deal with the Baratheon brothers."

"You won't be at war," Ser Jason said. "You will be Hand of the King, my lord."

"Yes," said Tyrion with a snort. "Hand of a King everyone despises and wants to kill. How do you think they will treat me if King's Landing falls?"

"Stannis will put your head on a spike next to Joffrey's," said Bronn as he stood and sheathed his sword.

Tyrion couldn't help but laugh. "Always telling it like it is, Bronn. I like that. Please don't stop."

He shrugged. "Just being truthful."

"Yes, I could stand a little bit more truthfulness. I won't find it in King's Landing, not in that nest of snakes. We are going to try save the city, gentlemen. But the only question is will my sister and nephew and the Baratheon brothers let us do it before it is too late."