Chapter 44 Tyrion

"How about this one?" Bronn asked Tyrion as they rode by yet another holdfast on their way west to Casterly Rock. This one was on a small hill surrounded by farmland with smallfolk mud and wattle homes dotting the landscape. In a field was a small herd of sheep and a stream wound its way through the fields and cut across the Riverroad under a wooden bridge the long column of men and wagons was now crossing.

"No," Tyrion told him as he looked up at the holdfast. "This one belongs to a branch of the Serrett family, one of Ser Robyn's uncles I believe. He still breathes despite getting on in years and we can't very well ask him to leave his own holdfast. Besides, I thought you wanted a castle. This is just a pile of stones."

"And what's the chance of me getting a castle round these parts?" Bronn retorted. "They're all taken by you and yours and the rest of your high and lordly bannermen."

"Quite true. Then how about Harrenhal?" Tyrion replied, half in jest. "You did take it after all, so your claim is good."

Bronn snorted. "Too bloody big, too bloody ruined, and too bloody cursed and smelly for my liking. Besides, it'll be under siege before long and I prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much."

"You think Ser Gregor cannot hold Harrenhal?"

"He'll give it a good try. But they'll be eating rats and boot leather before long even if the supplies we sent them arrive without coming to some grief on the road east."

"Gregor will never give up," growled the Hound from in front of them, where he rode just behind Princess Myrcella and her handmaidens. "His men will be eating each other before he yields to Stannis."

Tyrion thought he may have a point there, but said nothing. They were close to the end of their journey now, three days from Casterly Rock at most, and he was bone tired and did not want to get into a discussion with Sandor Clegane about the brother he wanted to kill more than anything else in the world. Tyrion had to use the Princess to get the Hound to leave Harrenhal before his brother Ser Gregor arrived and Clegane was not likely to ever forgive him for that little trick. And then there had been the effect of Mrycella's words on him, especially when she mentioned Sansa Stark. What was it between the Hound and Sansa Stark? Tyrion knew what had happened on the Kingsroad, how the Hound had saved the Stark girl. He also knew he had defended her when that little shit Joffrey had her beaten back in King's Landing. That little act of mercy had cost Clegane the post he had held for more than twelve years. Yet, that did not seem to bother him in the least. He had a new post now, shield to Myrcella, and he seemed more suited to it. Perhaps the big ugly brute saw himself as someone who could protect little girls from the monsters in the world. The trouble was that the Hound was one of the monsters.

As Bronn and the Hound talked on about what would happen at Harrenhal, Tyrion let his mind drift to what would happen at Casterly Rock when he arrived. They had been on the road almost two weeks now. The first part was the roughest, going over hill and dale to avoid getting too close to Riverrun. They had seen few people and Tyrion was sure their lion banners and their strength of five hundred men on horseback was a deterrent to anybody who thought of doing them harm. They crossed the Red Fork of the Trident at the ford at Stone Mill, southwest of Riverrun. A small party of Tully men was camped nearby, placed to guard the ford, but they didn't approach Tyrion's larger group. Both sides just kept a wary on eye on each other as the Lannister men passed to the west.

Supplies were running low by the time they reached the fortress and mountain pass at the Golden Tooth and Tyrion ordered a halt for three days while they rested and refitted. The Hound and his charges were still at the castle, delayed because Princess Myrcella had taken ill on the road when it had rained for several days during their journey. It was just a cough and a slight fever but the Hound ordered her to bed and the maesters were called to tend her. She had recovered by now, and it was decided to continue the journey west together.

The lord of the Golden Tooth, Leo Lefford, and many of his knights and men at arms were absent with the Lannister army. His heir, Lady Alysanne, asked Tyrion to leave some of his men to help protect the mountain pass against any possible attacks by Stannis and the Tullys. Tyrion consented to give her half his force, knowing they would do more good here than back at Casterly Rock. But he also imposed on the Lady of the Golden Tooth for supplies, some of which he immediately sent east to Harrenhal and the rest he took to re-supply his force as he continued west. She protested, saying her own lands might soon be under siege, but Tyrion made sure she knew who the new Hand of the King was and Lord of the Rock and after that things went more smoothly.

As they got deeper into the Lannister lands, Tyrion brooded more on what he had to do when he finally arrived at the Rock. His moods grew more sullen and he even failed to find solace in his wine or by trading japes with Bronn. Shae was his only comfort, coming to his tent each night if they camped in the open or to his room in whatever lord's holdfast or inn they managed to impose on for the night. She rubbed the aches from his legs and back and poured his wine and made love to him, but even that did nothing to bring him out of his funk.

"Tell me your troubles, my lord," Shae said to him as they lay in bed in a small inn that night, still a few days ride from Casterly Rock. The inn had only a few rooms and most of his men were outside, camped in tents in the fields nearby.

"Which ones?" he replied. "My troubles seem to grow with each passing day."

"Tell me all of them."

Tyrion sighed. "If I am to talk that much I need something for my parched throat first." He got up and poured some wine for them. He handed her a cup and then sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep drink from his own cup.

"First, there is the war and it is not going away," he started. "Stannis Baratheon wants us all dead, especially Tommen and Myrcella."

"How can he kill children?" she asked, somewhat worried. Shae had taken a liking for little Tommen when she had comforted him during their ghastly retreat from the hell fires of King's Landing.

Tyrion snorted. "He will have to if he wins or he will have pretenders popping up for the next dozen or so years to plague him and his rule. That's the first thing any rebel leader should do after a successful rebellion, my dear. Kill all those who could remove him in turn. I learned that from my father. Not that he ever took time to teach me about warfare. That was for Jaime. All I learned about war came from history books or my more genial uncles. I was still a child when Robert crushed Rhaegar on the Trident and Jamie cut King Aerys' throat. Then my father…"

She interrupted him and had a surprised looked on her face. "Didn't your brother stab him in the back?"

"So everyone in the realm believes," Tyrion replied. "No, he cut his royal throat and the Mad King bled to death like a hog being slaughtered. But stabbing him the back, besides the symbolism of the act, makes Jaime seem more of a villain, does it not? It matters not really, for he still besmirched his white cloak on that day no matter how he killed the man he was supposed to protect. Jamie told me all about it one day when we both had too much to drink. Unlike myself, my older brother does not hold his wine well, from a lack of practice no doubt. When in his cups he told me that and much more of what went on in King's Landing that fateful day and those days that came after. How Ned Stark found him sitting on the Iron Throne with blood on his sword, the dead King's body at his feet. How those two noble sers, Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane, slaughtered Elia and her children. How my father presented the wrapped up bodies to Robert when he finally arrived in the capital."

"King Robert ordered them killed?"

"No, not good old Robert," Tyrion continued with a grunt. "He was far away, recovering from a wound he received on the Trident. My father gave the command. Robert would never have given the order anyway. He saw himself as an honorable man, Jaime said. A man with honor does not kill children. He went to war against the Mad King to stop such things. Ah, but Robert was never much for planning too far ahead. He killed his enemies, and he won the throne. But he hadn't thought much on what would come after. My father did. He knew what had to be done. And so does Stannis."

"What will he do next?"

"If he has any sense, of which I do not doubt he lacks for a moment, he will strike at Harrenhal," Tyrion said. "And he had best do it before this winter Ned Stark always talks about comes roaring down on us with a fury. Have you seen many winters?"

"When I was a girl, in Lorath," Shae replied. "It is north, near Braavos, but not so far north as your north here in Westeros. Rain, we had plenty of. And frost, and some snow, but not much."

"It sounds like our winters in the south. I have seen snow in Lannisport, but again, not much and not for long. If the smallfolk and Ned Stark are to be believed we are in for a winter unlike anyone has seen in Westeros nigh on a hundred years or more. So Stannis had better roust himself from King's Landing quick if he wants Harrenhal before the snow falls."

"Will he? Roust himself, I mean."

"Perhaps," Tyrion replied after another sip of wine. "But his men are as tired of war as ours are. Harrenhal will not be an easy nut to crack, especially with the Mountain in command. We took Harrenhal unawares, but there will be no such trickery this time. A long siege Stannis cannot afford. It will give us time to raise new levies and strike back."

"But the winter…?"

"Yes, it will hurt us as well as Stannis. I do not relish trudging through snowdrifts higher than me to meet Stannis' swords."

"You are the Hand of the King again," Shae reminded him. "And the Lord of Casterly Rock. You do not have to fight. You order other men to fight."

"True enough, but there will be other battles for me to fight back at the Rock."

"With your sister, you mean."

Tyrion grimaced. "Yes, her above all."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know…yet. I must assess the situation there first. Jaime was Hand, but now he is not and I am. How did he arraign that? He has the ear of Tommen, no doubt. And I believe he and Cersei are not seeing eye to eye anymore. My reinstatement alone tells me that much is true. Cersei would never have agreed and would have done all she could to persuade Tommen to not agree. So either Jaime has somehow persuaded her I am needed, or Jaime now has the little King's ear and he is ignoring his mother's wishes. In either case, Cersei will be seething."

"Cunt," Shae said with an edge of anger in her voice.

Tyrion could not help but laugh. "Yes. She is that and has used hers far too long to get what she wants. That won't work with me. And maybe it won't work with Jaime anymore, either."

She stared at him for a long moment. "So it is true, what Stannis says?"

He looked at her and wondered why he had said that, revealing his brother and sister's dreadful secret. Maybe it was the wine or he was just tired, or maybe he just didn't care anymore. Or maybe it was her. Shae had been by his side and his bed for many months now, and knew most of what he knew. Pillow talk was dangerous, especially with whores who may be in the pay of someone else. But she was not in someone else's pay, as far as he knew. Maybe he just didn't care to hide his siblings' secret anymore. Bronn knew of course, had heard Ned Stark say it often enough on the road to Harrenhal. His Uncle Kevan had guessed it also even though Tyrion had never confirmed it. Hell, the whole realm knew for that matter, and believed it, despite the lack of proof.

"Yes…sadly all his lies are not lies," he told her. "Jaime is their father. Tommen has no right to the throne anymore than Joffrey did. By all the laws of the Seven Kingdoms it belongs to Stannis."

"Gods," Shae said quietly. "Then all this shit, this killing and war, it is all for nothing?" She wasn't angry, just trying to understand what it all meant.

"Not for nothing," Tyrion swiftly answered. "For our lives. We fight for our lives and our land and for our people. If Stannis wins no doubt the history books will say it was justified, that he took the throne from a bastard pretender. He will be called Stannis the Just. Perhaps Stannis the Stern. Or maybe Stannis the Red if his red whore has her way and all of Westeros falls under the sway of the Lord of Light. And the red won't be for his god, but for the blood that will be spilled when he tries to impose beliefs on people who don't want to be told how to worship. They will fight…wait…yes. Of course they will."

A germ of an idea was born in that instant, as he thought on what Stannis and his red woman would do to Westeros if they defeated the Lannisters. It was so obvious, Tyrion didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. The people of Westeros would not stand for a new god replacing their old ones. They were tolerant of many religions but would not stand anyone telling them how to worship. The Seven were proof of that, entrenched in Westeros for more than six millennium now, but many still worshiped the old gods and the Drowned God and many others.

He told his idea to Shae and she promised to keep it to herself and then for the first time in many nights, Tyrion Lannister slept well, knowing at last what he had to do to win this war and save the Seven Kingdoms.

Two days later they could see Casterly Rock in the distance, the massive castle looming on its headland as if carved from the rock itself.

"So that's the Rock," Bronn said as they neared it. "Never fallen, has it?"

"Never," Tyrion replied and he could see Bronn looking it over with his professional sellsword's eye.

"Might be I could find a way," Bronn said after a few moments examination.

"If you ever do, keep it to yourself," Tyrion told him. "My brother and uncle and many others may decide to kill you to keep such information from ever reaching Stannis' or others' ears."

Bronn seemed put out by his comment. "I told you more than once I'm not changing my cloak, especially not to stern bloody Stannis. He'll likely kill me anyway no matter what useful things I tell him."

"Most likely. I know you won't turn your cloak, but others may not be so understanding."

"Fair enough."

As they had approached the castle from the northeast, there was no road to the top, only a sheer cliff face. The road up to the castle was on the south side, facing Lannisport. So to reach the Lion's Mouth gate and fortress that protected the entrance to the Rock they had to pass over a high hill to the east of the Rock, along a dirt road where several gold mine entrances lay. Many men were here, some of them soldiers on guard duty, others working by the entrances, tipping wooden wheeled crates filled with ore into water fed sluices, which washed away the dirt and revealed the small grains of gold mixed in. It was a slow and labor intensive business, but the wealth it revealed made the family powerful. Tyrion noted that all of the mine entrances seemed busy, no doubt trying to make up for the coin paid to the Riverlands and the coin needed for the war and the repairs to Lannisport.

Bronn stared at the openings in the rocky hill and the workers as they rode by and Tyrion explained what they were. "Gold mines? Can I have these lands for my reward?"

Tyrion laughed, in a good mood for a change. "Now, now. Gold I promised, and land as well, but not land filled with gold. Let us find out who has died and who has no heirs and you will get those lands. We also have to think of a title for you. Perhaps Jaime can make you a knight first, and then we'll raise you to a lordship later."

"Sounds proper," Bronn answered. "What will be my sigil?"

"Five towers," said Pod, riding just behind them and listening in. He was so quiet Tyrion sometimes forgot he was there and then when Pod spoke his voice surprised Tyrion.

"Five towers?" Bronn said to Pod with puzzlement. "What in blazes for?"

"Harrenhal," Pod replied as if it was obvious. "For your conquest. Our conquest…I mean…we…you took it. So it can be your sigil."

Bronn raised his eyebrows and looked over at Tyrion. "Ser Bronn of the Five Towers? Sound good?"

"Lovely," Tyrion replied. "Then we'll have to make sure your lands have five tall towers as well."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Bronn answered. "Towers cost coin to build. One short one will do for now."

"As you wish," Tyrion replied. Perhaps he would build the five towers for him anyway. He had money enough, and the power to do it, now that he was Hand of the King and soon to be confirmed as Lord of Casterly Rock. That was another detail he had to take care of quickly. The only likely resistance would come from Cersei. His father's will was another matter, but he was sure that a will that went against the laws of the kingdoms could be set aside. Jaime and Ser Kevan would support him, as would his Aunt Genna, and most of the army, and he was sure Tommen would have no objections.

As they crested the hill and started down the other side Tyrion got his first look at Lannisport in a long time. It had been more than a moon's turn since the ironmen attacked, and much of the damage had been cleaned up. The harbor still had a few sunken ships in it. He could see no masts sticking up out of the water, but from their vantage point they could see the shadows of the hulls of at least two large galleys and one smaller one under the water. That would be a hazard to navigation and they would have to deal with them somehow.

On the stone mole that protected the harbor Tyrion could see a party of men working on the lighthouse, repairing its stone walls that seem blackened by fire. The docks and wharves also swarmed with workers, tearing down damaged buildings and putting up new ones. Far to the south side of the city Tyrion could just make out the dry docks and saw the skeletal woodwork of at least two warships already taking shape. Good, he thought. The fleet needed to be rebuilt, and soon.

As they approached the Lion's Mouth Tyrion told Ser Robyn to lead his men to the nearby army camp and find space for his men. Shae was with the supply wagons at the rear and she would have to stay in camp until Tyrion could figure out what to do with her. He had planned to drop her off at some town or village or holdfast along the way but the more he thought of it the more risky it seemed. Too many people would ask too many questions. He had to have a safe place with people he trusted completely or Cersei would find out and that would be bad. So for now Shae had to go on pretending to be a servant, much to her displeasure.

Tyrion, Bronn, and Podrick continued on to the Lion's Mouth, with the Princess, her handmaidens, and the Hound behind them, and an escort of ten knights riding behind them as well. As he approached a trumpet heralded his arrival and many soldiers bent the knee as he rode past and through the gates. That was a good sign. At least they remembered who he was and how to treat him with proper respect. Or maybe that had been for the Princess.

"That must have felt good," Bronn said as they rode past the Lion's Mouth entrance and into the fortress.

"Yes, indeed," Tyrion answered, acting as if it was for him and he had expected it. It mattered not now, as they rode into and through the fortress, past the raised portcullis at the rear, and continued on up the road. He looked over at Bronn and shook his head as if disappointed in something. "Your garb. We will have to do something about it."

"What?" he said in surprise. Bronn was wearing his usual black clothing and almost black leather armor. "Now don't go thinking you're going to gussy me up like some fancy dandy in silks and furs and gilded plate armor."

"No, of course not. But as captain of my guards I think you should have some more refined attire. Chain mail at least, and a proper sigil for your surcoat once Jaime knights you."

"What colors should he have, my lord?" Pod asked.

"Not Lannister colors," Bronn swiftly answered. "I may be in your pay but I'm not one of you lot."

Any other lord would have taken that for an insult but Tyrion cared not in the least. "Black, I should think, to fit your sense of humor and the black walls of Harrenhal. Trimmed with silver for your love of the coin."

Bronn grinned. "I like it already. Send your finest tailors to my quarters. I will have quarters, won't I?"

"Of course. Nothing but the best for us. For the nonce at least. But we best not grow too comfortable my friends unless we want Stannis to catch us with our breeches down. I have a mind to take a tour of our lands when I settle business with my family. We shall make sure the populace is ready for winter and our defenses ready for anything. On these journeys perhaps we will find your new holdfast and lands…Ser Bronn."

After some time they finally came to the main gates of The Rock. As they entered the castle once more trumpets blew and a large crowd was waiting for them in main courtyard, mainly made up of the noble ladies and lords of the west, including Ser Kevan and Tyrion's Aunt Genna. King Tommen was there as well, in his fine regal attire with his little crown on his little head. By his right side stood Jaime in his white armor and cloak, and on the King's left side stood his mother, dressed in her best and looking as lovely as she always did. Cersei even smiled, but it was a cold smile, and it did not reach her eyes, which were full of hate as she looked on Tyrion. Then her eyes flicked past him and as they lit up he was sure she was looking at Myrcella.

They all dismounted and followed Tyrion's lead as he bent the knee to Tommen. "I have returned as commanded Your Grace. I am yours to command."

"Welcome, Uncle," Tommen said formally as all was quiet and all ears listened and all eyes watched. "I command you to be Hand of the King once more."

"I humbly accept, Your Grace."

"Rise, my Hand," Tommen said. Tyrion rose as did the others. Then Myrcella let out a small sob and rushed forward, right into her mother's arms. Cersei hugged her tight and then Tommen hugged her as well and then Cersei started to lead Myrcella away, back into the castle. Tommen went to follow but then stopped and returned to Jaime's side. Cersei gave him an impatient look. "Come, my King, we must give your sister and heir a proper greeting."

"I need talk with my uncles," Tommen replied stiffly. "About the war."

Oh, this was interesting, Tyrion thought. The little boy was asserting himself already. That was good as long as he didn't turn into a little shit like his older brother had.

Cersei glared at him and then to Jaime and Tyrion. "That can wait," Cersei said, putting on her brightest smile as she looked to Tommen again. "Your uncle has ridden long and needs to refresh himself first."

"Quite so, Your Grace," Tyrion said to Tommen. "We shall talk later."

But Tommen turned to Jaime. "Ser Uncle?"

"Yes, I think your mother is correct," Jaime replied. "Spend some time with your sister and we shall speak later today, Your Grace."

Only then did Tommen consent to follow Cersei. As she left Cersei gave both Jaime and Tyrion withering looks and then turned on her heel and went inside the castle with her children, and Tommen's Kingsguard and Myrcella's handmaidens close behind. The Hound moved to follow them but Jaime stopped him.

"We need have words later, Clegane, concerning your duties now."

"My duty is with the Princess, my lord," Clegane replied in his rough voice. "The Queen commanded me to be her shield."

"You're still a member of the Kingsguard so you obey my commands first and foremost," Jaime reminded him. "We will speak later."

"My lord," Clegane merely grunted and moved off to follow Myrcella.

"Well, my brother dear, it seems you are in charge around these parts," Tyrion quipped.

"Not anymore," Jaime said with a grin. "Thank the gods you are here. We have much to talk on."

"Indeed," Tyrion replied as his Uncle Kevan and Aunt Genna hovered nearby. "Uncle Kevan. I thought to find you with the army."

"I am a member of the King's small council now," Ser Kevan replied. "And the army is not going anywhere for the time being."

"True enough," Tyrion replied and knew he wanted to have words with him and Jaime both about what had happened in front of King's Landing, but it would have to wait for a more private moment. "How fairs Lancel?"

"We left him at Deep Den, but word is that he is recovering well, thank the gods."

"Send him my best," Tyrion said and then opened his arms for a bone crushing hug from his robust aunt.

"My dearest Tyrion," Genna said after he kissed her cheek. "We have sore need of your wisdom."

"I'll do what I can," Tyrion replied. He looked about. "Where is Uncle Emmon?"

"Says he has an upset stomach and begs your forgiveness for missing your return," she replied. She then lowered her voice. "No doubt he is still pouting over being passed over for Hand of the King...again. You would think after being imprisoned for more than a fortnight he would not want to get so close to the fire again. It's his Frey blood. They all want to be the big fish in the pond."

"I must see him later," Tyrion said. To ask him how he fucked everything up in his short time as Hand of the King.

For the next little while Tyrion greeted more people and all congratulated him on being Hand again. Tyrion remembered most of them, Lannisters for the most part, from different family branches. More than one was here for some favor or other Tyrion knew, and he was also sure more than one was wondering how much they could oppose his authority, if he truly was Lord of the Rock now. Try me, my friends, Tyrion thought as he smiled and greeted all, try me and you'll see that I am my father's son and that the lion still has sharp claws.

"I think a bath, a rest and some food are in order before we get to the business of running the realm and winning our war," Tyrion told Jaime and his aunt and uncle after he grew weary of meeting people. Jaime had some servants show Bronn and Podrick where they would be housed and then Tyrion headed for his own quarters with Jaime trailing behind.

"That was wearisome," Tyrion said as they moved alone down a corridor where Tyrion's rooms were located. His quarters were always on a lower level, seeing as his stunted and twisted legs were never well suited for climbing stairs. "Couldn't it have waited?"

"Cersei's idea, which Tommen agreed to," Jaime told him. "Said she could not wait to see Myrcella and that you should be seen by all as you accepted the position of Hand. Again."

"Theater," Tyrion grumbled. "No doubt she wanted them to see me travel stained and weary. From your letter and my new title I surmised you had her under control."

Jaime grunted. "A small concession. As for the rest, she has no more power as far as the realm is concerned."

They had reached the doors of his rooms as Jaime said this and an elderly serving woman was waiting. "A bath has been drawn for you, my lord," said the woman. "Fresh clothing is on your bed."

"There is wine as well?" Tyrion asked.

"Yes, my lord."

"I do not wish to be disturbed for the next while," Tyrion commanded and then sent the servant on her way as he and Jaime entered the rooms.

The outer room was his sitting room and study, and it was mainly filled with shelves on which hundreds of books were sitting. A reading table was also present, with a chair next to it, both built specially for Tyrion's small body. In fact, all of the furniture was smallish in size, except for two normal sized chairs where visitors could sit. Short ladders reached up to the higher book shelves and a small wooden step was built next to the window so Tyrion could easily open the shutters and look out on the ocean.

In the corner in his bedroom next door his small bathtub awaited him, steaming hot and with fresh towels on the side. The room was dominated by a massive four poster bed, bigger than the beds most normal sized lords and ladies had. Tyrion had always had difficulty sleeping, even in the most comfortable of beds, and this monstrosity was very comfortable. The mattress filled with downy feathers helped ease the aches that plagued his legs and back at times and the many pillows helped prop him up so he could read in comfort while abed. A stack of books still sat on his bedside end table, next to a candle holder. Tyrion supposed the dust had been cleaned recently when his return after so much time absent was expected. He noticed the books were the same ones he had left there when he had last been here almost…when was it?

"When was it, Jaime?" he said aloud. "When were we last here together?"

"I suppose it was almost three years ago," his brother replied.

"Yes…three years. So much has happened since then."

Tyrion turned from his bedroom and back into the outer room and sat in his chair and bid Jaime to sit as well. A crystal decanter of wine was on the table as were two crystal glasses and some bread and cheese. Tyrion poured for them but Jaime held up a hand.

"Not for me, dear brother. I do not have the love of the grape that you do, as you well know. Besides, I believe I shall need a clear head in the days to come."

"A clear head I always have," Tyrion answered. "Wine makes it that much clearer." He took a drink. "Now, before my bath grows cold, tell me how you managed all you have done."

Jaime's face grew serious and then he just sighed. "First, you should know that Cersei and I have had a falling out."

"I noticed her cold demeanor towards you. What happened?"

He seemed uncomfortable and shifted on his chair. "I think that is a story for another time."

"Fair enough. Please continue."

"After that…once I put aside how I feel about her, then I could see how to solve that little problem of her trying to ruin us all by being in charge. She had already agreed to let me be Hand. After that it was easy to take Tommen in hand, so to speak. He is a small boy still, but his love of kittens and his easy way of crying at the least minor problem and other 'unmanly' things are signs of weakness that our king should not have."

"He is still a boy."

"Yes, but in time he will be a man and we do not need a king who is still a boy in his heart."

"Like Aegon the Fifth."

Jaime looked at him in puzzlement. "You know I am not as well read as you, brother."

Tyrion took another sip of wine and began to talk on history, a subject he would gladly waste away the day talking on if he had the time to spare. "Aegon the Fifth grew up as a genial lad who never expected to take power. His father had older brothers and he had older brothers as well. But through chance and bad luck, all of them died except his older brother Aemon, the current maester of Castle Black and the Night's Watch. Their two elder brothers had left a son and daughter behind, but both were very young, and the girl was feeble minded and the boy just a babe. A great council was called to determine the succession. When offered the crown Maester Aemon refused, having already spent years forging his chain. He was committed to a life as a maester. He said the crown should go to his younger brother Aegon. When Aegon was crowned he was in his early thirties, but still very genial and friendly to all, much like a boy. In most men these qualities would have been admired, but they are poor qualities for a king, you no doubt agree."

"Qualities that will get you killed by the first usurper who senses weakness."

"Exactly. Maester Aemon knew that there would be plots against his brother so he joined the Night's Watch to forestall any such plots involving himself, since men of the Night's Watch give up all rights to inheritance and titles. Before he left for the Wall, Aemon told his newly crowned brother that it was time for the boy in him to die. It was time for the man in him to be born, to come forth and rule as a man should rule."

"How do you know all this?"

Tyrion waved his hands at the books that lined the walls. "It's in one of these, somewhere, written down by someone who wrote a history of Aegon's rule. I am kicking myself now for when I was at the Wall I should have asked Aemon whether what he said to his brother was true or not. Anyway, the point is that Aegon did change his ways and ruled as a man should rule."

"Didn't Aegon die at Summerhall?"

"Ah, yes. More madness there than anything else. They tried to hatch a dragon's egg with fire and the fire grew out of control. Many died that terrible day, including his heir, Prince Duncan. And that led to his second son Jaehaerys becoming king, and then his son Mad Aerys and well…you know the rest. So," Tyrion said, pausing as he took another drink of wine. "Tommen needs to become a man. We can agree on that at least."

"And now he does as well," Jaime said. "I have had him training with sword and lance, a blunted sword and a short lance, but still he is learning. He loves it, and of course Cersei is terrified, worried about him getting hurt. She has always hovered over him but now with Joffrey dead she fears for him more than ever. But Tommen quickly put her in her place. Told her that he was King and as King he needed to learn how to fight." Jaime laughed. "She was furious but Tommen kept on practicing."

"Where has he developed this sudden growth of backbone that I saw him display in the courtyard?"

Jaime grinned. "Why from me, dear brother. I quickly sensed he craved the attention of a man in his life. His father…sorry…King Robert… never gave him a second thought or taught him a thing. He has been brought up surrounded by his mother and sister and other women."

"Now he has his true father instead of his mother."

"Yes…well, that is something he should never know."

For a moment there Tyrion thought he saw some doubt in Jaime's eyes, as if he wished Tommen knew he was his true father. But maybe he just imagined it. "Of course," Tyrion replied." Now…about me being Hand. How did you arraign that?"

"A few days after I became Hand, Tommen formed a new small council, under my and Uncle Kevan's guidance, of course. We waited until evening when Cersei was abed. Tommen signed and stamped all of the papers. You are Hand, I am the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Uncle Emmon is master of coin,…"

"Not a Lannister?" Tyrion interrupted.

"We have plenty of good men in positions in the mints and mines and trading houses to forestall Uncle Emmon making a botch of things. Besides Aunt Genna rules him as we both know and she is most definitely a Lannister despite being married to a Frey."

"Quite true. Do continue."

"Uncle Kevan is still commander of the army plus a member of the council, with no official title except advisor. Admiral Lefford is master of ships. The maester of the Rock will become a Grand Maester and join us once the greybeards in the Citadel get around to appointing him as such."

"They usually like to decide those things themselves," Tyrion answered. "Besides, the realm has one Grand Maester already and that is usually all there is."

"Pycelle," Jaime grunted. "He is a Grand Maester for a false king."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "Let us be careful who we brand false, dear brother."

Now Jaime grew a bit angry. "You best keep such thoughts to yourself. Or do you want the whole realm to turn against us?"

"Which part hasn't already?" Tyrion shot back.

Jaime calmed himself a bit. "None. What do we do about that?"

"I have a plan, which we will discuss in council. No, not to worry, I will defend Tommen's right to the crown to the death if it comes to it. If he goes then we all go as well and that would not do at all. Now, how did Cersei take this new small council when she found out?"

"She was furious as we expected. Tommen loudly told her in front of us all that there was no place for her on the council." Jaime grinned a bit, as if recalling the incident. "She commanded him to go to his rooms. He stood from the table and we thought he would leave but then he shouted at her to leave. He told his guards to remove her from the room if she would not go. She seethed and called him an insolent brat and…well, she let fly and told him to do as his mother commanded. Tommen hesitated for just a second but then he looked at me, I gave him a reassuring grin, and he got back in his chair. She knew she was lost then. We all just stared at her and no one said a word and she finally left. She had no friends in that room. Uncle Emmon and Admiral Lefford she had imprisoned for the debacle caused by the ironmen. She has no love for Uncle Kevan and he has none for her. And well….I and Cersei…I fear things are never going to be the same again."

"I think that was a mistake, leaving her off the council," Tyrion said and Jaime just stared at him, as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

"I thought you would applaud me, dear brother."

"In the past I might have," Tyrion replied. "But I think a Cersei scorned and without things to occupy her time will be more of a danger to us. I have a mind to invite her back to council."

Jaime shook his head. "She won't accept."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I think she will. She wants to be where the action is. She has our taste for that at least. And if she is on the council she may think she can bring Tommen and the realm back under her control. There, in the open, we can more easily see her plots and stop her. Outside of the council, with time on her hands to gather friends and whisper behind our backs, it may be more difficult to know what she is up to."

Jaime shook his head once more. "Are you mad? Or just too devious for your own good?"

Tyrion grinned. "That has yet to be seen, dear brother. Now, there is one more issue. Am I Lord of Casterly Rock?"

"Yes."

One word and Tyrion felt a sudden easing of tension in his body. "Good. How did you arrange that?"

"By royal decree Tommen overturned Father's will. At least the part about who becomes Lord of the Rock. He had named me heir, but by the law I cannot inherit. Cersei raged about that, as you can imagine, told me to cast off my white cloak and do my duty for our family. I declined, again, and she raged some more when I told her you would become our lord. She claimed we had no right, as we went against Father's last wishes. But I told her the Rock needed a lord and if not me and if not you then who? She could not inherit as long as a male heir lives and did not give up his claim, as I am sure you won't."

"Not ever," Tyrion replied. "If we followed the strict history of Casterly Rock, in the past even the deceased lord's daughters have been passed over if a strong male relative lives, such as the lord's brother."

"That bit of history I did know," Jaime told her. "Kevan was next in line of succession in that case and when she heard that she turned pale. I imagine she thought he would make her become a septa or join the Silent Sisters or something equally repugnant to get her even further away from Tommen. After that she did not resist the decision to make you lord of Casterly Rock."

"Thank you," Tyrion said, with all sincerity.

Jaime smiled in his dashing way. "You're welcome…my lord."

Tyrion sighed and rolled his mismatched eyes. "Come now. Let us not start that." Tyrion stood and stretched his arms. "I think it is time I removed these stinking clothes and have my bath before it gets cold."

"We have a meeting after the supper hour."

The thought of food made Tyrion's stomach rumble. After weeks on the road mainly eating salt fish and beef and hard bread and cheese, he wanted some real food. "Where is the council chamber? Father's solar?"

"Your solar now, if you choose to take Father's old rooms."

Tyrion hadn't thought on that yet. Sleeping in a dead man's bed might not be such a good idea. Too many ghosts. "Actually, I think I shall remain here for the time being."

"Very well. The small council chamber is near the great hall, or the throne room as we are now calling it. I'll send someone for you."

"I am sure I can find my way. I did grow up here, you recall. If you have time tell the others to expect Cersei there."

"She will not accept any gifts from you, dear brother."

"Then I will not make it a gift."

"I would like to be there to hear it all, but she would only throw things at me and demand I leave."

"Things are that bad?"

"I took her son away from her. She will not forgive me that." With those words Jaime bid him goodbye for now and left.

After Jaime left Tyrion had his bath and only stayed a short time, as the water was more warm than hot by now. He dressed in fresh clothing and then made his way to Cersei's rooms. Time to get this over with. Tyrion had never been one to avoid confrontations with adversaries. In fact, he rather enjoyed them, unlike most people. Maybe that was why he wanted to be Hand of the King again so badly. As he had soaked in his bath Tyrion had thought of a few ways to deal with Cersei. How things were when he found her would determine how he acted.

Outside the doors stood Ser Preston Greenfield and the Hound. It was the good the Hound was here, Tyrion thought. Now he could carry on with one of his plans as he intended.

"The Queen does not wished to be disturbed, my lord," Ser Preston told him.

"I am here on official state business," Tyrion told him. "Tell my dear sister that if you would, ser."

Preston grunted and went inside. Tyrion looked at the Hound. He looked exhausted and still smelled of the road. "You need a bath and a rest, Clegane."

"I am on duty."

"I want you to come inside with me and then after we are done you are relieved of your duties for the rest of the day."

Before the Hound could answer Ser Preston returned. "The Queen will see you, my lord."

"Come, Clegane," Tyrion said and he and the Hound entered the rooms.

Cersei had several rooms, large and with plenty of windows facing the sea. The entrance led to Cersei's sitting room, and she was at a table with Myrcella at her side. The young Princess looked cleaner and was in fresh clothing. She also seemed happier than Tyrion had seen her in a long time. Tyrion had expected Tommen to be here as well, but he was not.

"Hello, sister dear," he said, trying to be pleasant.

But Cersei would not even be civil to him, as he expected. "Say what you will and then get out."

"Where is the King?"

Myrcella answered. "Uncle Jaime took him for his riding lessons."

"I am sure you will see him at your council meetings," Cersei said with venom in her tone.

"No, actually I am glad he is not here. I would not want him to hear what I must tell you."

"Then Myrcella best not hear it as well," Cersei replied and then looked to the Hound. "Take the Princess to her quarters."

"No," Tyrion said. "She needs to stay. So does Clegane. We have something to tell you."

Myrcella suddenly went pale and stared wide eyed at Tyrion, understanding what he meant to do. "No…you promised…at Harrenhal."

"What's all this?" Cersei demanded sharply, clutching Mrycella's hand. "What has the monster done to you, my sweet girl?"

"Nothing," Myrcella said quickly.

"Did he threaten you? Don't be frightened, my daughter. Tell me the truth."

"Still making something out of nothing, I see," Tyrion replied with a weary sigh. "Clegane, tell her."

"It's not my place to say," the Hound replied.

"See Cersei?" Tyrion said to her. "They are all afraid to tell you the truth, even this man who is afraid of nothing."

She glared at him. "What truth?"

"The truth about your own son."

"Tommen? What…?"

"Not Tommen," Myrcella suddenly said. "Joffrey."

Now Cersei grew still. She sat back in her chair and let go of Myrcella's hand. "What about Joffrey?"

Tyrion looked to Myrcella and she gulped and nodded. Then she looked at her mother took a deep breath and spoke quickly. "At Winterfell, Joffrey gave the man the knife, the man who attacked Brandon Stark."

Cersei just stared at her, unable to speak for a moment. "It can't be true," she finally said in a bare whisper. "Your uncle is lying to you."

"He did not tell me this, Mother," the Princess replied. "I told him….at Harrenhal. Sandor, tell her, please."

"The Princess speaks the truth, Your Grace," the Hound said and then, in bits and pieces, as Cersei tried to poke holes in their story, they told her what they had told Tyrion at Harrenhal. When it was done, she commanded Clegane to take Myrcella back to her quarters.

After they were gone Tyrion sat at the table opposite his sister. She was defeated, he could see, all the energy to be mad at him gone.

Finally, she looked across the table at him. "At King's Landing I once told you how I feared something was wrong with Joff."

"I recall."

"Gods," she said with a shake of her head. "Why? Why did he do it?"

At least she believed it was true. "We know not. The Hound thought he was playing some game of his."

"He should have told us long ago!" she almost screamed.

"Yes…but that matters not now. Joffrey is dead. And what could we have done even if we had known the truth?"

She sighed. "Nothing. He was the heir."

"Exactly."

She stared at Tyrion for a long moment. "You have told this to Jaime?"

"No. I thought you needed to know first. I will let you decide whether to tell him or not."

"We…we are not talking much these days."

"So I have heard."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Not exactly."

She snorted. "He had Tommen remove me from the small council. I am sure he gloated when he told you that."

"He did not gloat. Cersei…we must end this bickering between us."

She snorted. "Never. You may be Hand of the King and Lord of the Rock, and you may fool Jaime and Kevan and Genna and the rest of those simpering fools, but I know you for the vile little monster you are. Father did not name you his heir because he knew you would turn his legacy into a long parade of debauchery, drunkenness, and whoring."

"I am the heir."

"And I am the Queen Regent! My son is the King and don't think for a moment that Jaime has won him over completely! I am his mother and I know what he needs and wants. While Robert was whoring and drinking and hunting, and while Jaime was playing with his sword, I was the one who listened to him cry and held his hand and rocked him to sleep at night. Not them. Not you. Me!"

"No one is denying your rights as mother to the King, Cersei."

"Jaime is certainly trying his best to shut me out of Tommen's life."

"We can change that."

She was about to shout at him again but paused as if uncertain of what was going on. "Speak plainly," she finally said. "Like Father, I am not able to stand your japes."

"I want you to rejoin the small council."

That shook her and she gaped at him, and then her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "In what role?"

"Advisor."

She laughed at him. "Advisor? You mean observer, don't you? After what happened the last time I was at a small council meeting no one will listen to me. They all hate me."

"I will listen."

"And what power will I have to make decisions?"

"None. The final say rests with the King and myself. And as the King is a boy of almost nine, well…need I say more?" She said nothing, just stared at him. "Will you accept or not?"

She shook her head. "No…I will not come crawling on my knees to that pile of lackeys."

"As you wish," Tyrion said and then he stood. "I have need of nourishment and then a small council meeting to attend. If you change your mind…I am sure you know the way."

"One more thing," Cersei said as Tyrion reached the door. "You may be Lord of Casterly Rock now, but you will never have my support. Some day I will tear you down."

"I fully expect you will try," Tyrion told her calmly. Then he left.

Tyrion felt good after that little meeting, despite her last threatening words. He had chosen to tell her about Joffrey to disarm her anger long enough for him to tell her the real reasons he had come. It worked and she listened and refused as he had also expected. Cersei was nothing if not proud and she would not outright accept his offer. But she was also power hungry, and she would come, he was certain.

Tyrion was not wrong. After he ate his fill and drank some wine with his Aunt Genna, who filled him in on all the gossip at the Rock, he saw in on Bronn and Pod and spoke to them for a bit. Then he and Bronn went to find the small council room. They ran into Ser Kevan on the way.

"Is she coming?" Ser Kevan asked without even a hello. He looked pensive.

"We shall see," Tyrion replied, and after leaving Bronn outside, they entered the room, the first to arrive. Or so Tyrion thought.

Cersei was already there, sitting on one side of a table that had two large candle holders with many lit candles in them. She was sitting directly across from the King's seat. "Uncle," she said formally to Ser Kevan and did not say a word to Tyrion, while Tyrion did his best to keep the look of satisfaction off his face.

"Your Grace…Tyrion tells me you will be rejoining us."

"Yes," was all she said.

Ten minutes later and all were seated, with Tyrion to the right of the King, and his mother across from him with the others around the table. Emmon Frey looked a little grey and perhaps he really did have a bad stomach. Then again, at dinner his Aunt Genna had told him Tommen ordered Emmon to give up the sour leaf so perhaps he was suffering from a lack of his favorite stimulating vegetation.

Admiral Lefford, the master of ships, was a tall, balding, clean shaven elderly man who had to be at least as old as Ser Kevan. Tyrion barely remembered him from when he was a boy and when the Admiral had more hair. Tyrion had no love for the sea, being prone to seasickness, and therefore knew little of the Lannister navy. That would have to change.

Both Emmon and Lefford greeted Cersei formally, with a coldness behind their eyes. She had imprisoned both of them and Tyrion intended to find out all that had happened, but not tonight.

Jaime and the King arrived last. Jaime hesitated to sit next to Cersei but it was the only seat left. "Sister, how good of you to join us again," Jaime said, covering up his discomfort with one of his dashing grins.

Cersei said nothing and after a long moment where the tension in the air was thick enough to choke a man, Tyrion looked to Tommen, who seemed to be happy as usual. The little King smiled. "You can begin the meeting, Uncle."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Tyrion replied and then he looked them all in the eye and began to speak.

"We stand alone in the realm," Tyrion began. "Everyone despises us. Our enemies gather around us. Soon Harrenhal will be under siege and before long even our own homelands if winter does not forestall Stannis. Even if winter brings us a reprieve, Stannis will win the support of every noble house in the land by the time spring comes. The Starks will be refreshed, the Riverlands as well. And perhaps even Dorne and the Vale will join him before long. As long as Stannis holds the Tyrell children, the Reach will follow him. Then once they gather the first harvest they will muster their strength and march on us. Frankly, we cannot stand against the whole power of Westeros."

They were silent for a long moment as these words sunk in. Finally, Emmon Frey cleared his throat. "Can we not sue for peace?"

"Never!" Jaime said strongly at once as the others glared at Emmon and he withered under their baleful looks. Tyrion had expected as much from him. He was a Frey after all, and his father wasn't called the Late Walder Frey for nothing. Always hedging their bets, these Freys.

"Stannis will not accept anything but total surrender," Ser Kevan was saying. "And we all know what that means."

Cersei cast a worried eye at her son and so did everyone else. Tommen just grinned back at them. "No surrender," he said in a clear voice.

"As you command, Your Grace," Tyrion replied. "Then we must find a way to win this war." He did not wait for any suggestions but plowed on ahead. "We need to stand strong, together, all of us. We cannot seem weak, not for an instant. And not for an instant will we stand for any treason, anyone trying to win Stannis' favor by surrendering a castle or stronghold without a fight. Therefore, every major family in the west will at once send a son or daughter or other close relative to be fostered at Casterly Rock."

There was a long silence as the implications of this order sunk in. "They will protest this," said Ser Kevan. "Some of these families have been staunchly loyal to us for centuries."

"Then they should have no reason to refuse," Tyrion replied. "The King needs people his own age around him, as companions. You would like that, wouldn't you, Your Grace?"

"Yes, Uncle. The more that come the more fun we can have."

"These families should be honored to send companions for you, Your Grace," Emmon Frey added, trying to recover the loss of face he recently suffered.

"Companions?" Jaime said with raised eyebrows.

"Certainly," Tyrion said. "Companions to the King. Oh, and if any lord refuses this honor he will lose his titles and lands."

Cersei spoke up. "If any lord resists, send a singer to play the 'Rains of Castemere' outside his walls. They will soon get the message."

"Quite so," Tyrion said. "Are we agreed?"

No one protested, despite the doubt Tyrion saw in their eyes. "Good. We will send the ravens on the morrow. Now, to the war at sea. Where is the Iron Fleet now?"

"As far as we know, still to the south," said Lefford. "I have what few ships we have left out on patrol to the south and they will send any warnings."

"How did they get so close without us knowing the last time?"

Lefford looked a bit uncomfortable. "They did not sail along the coast so we had no warnings. They sailed far out to sea and as night came they sailed for Lannisport under cover of darkness."

"That's some fine sailing," Tyrion observed.

"Indeed," Lefford replied and he seemed impressed.

Cersei snorted. "You fools let them sail right into the harbor!"

"We had no warning, Your Grace!" Lefford told her strongly. "You have already hung my two colleagues for our supposed follies."

Cersei looked ready to retort but Tyrion interrupted. "This is just the kind of bickering we must not have. What is done is done. Let us look to the future. To counter any more incursions we need ships. Many. How goes the building?"

"Slow, my lord," Lefford reported. "We need seasoned timber to make strong ships, and little of that was laid down in recent years. I can promise at least ten long ships in the coming months. More will take time."

"Can't we buy ships?"

"Most certainly," Lefford said, seizing on the idea. "From merchants. We can convert them to warships. The quality would not be as good, but it will do for defensive purposes for the nonce."

"That would be expensive," Emmon told them.

"Gold we have a plenty," Jaime reminded his uncle. "It is time we spent some."

"Much has been going out of late," Emmon reported. "Half a million dragons to the Riverlands alone, and a half million more to go."

"Stop all payments to the Riverlands at once," Tyrion commanded him.

"You would break your father's treaty?" Ser Kevan asked in a disapproving tone.

"That treaty was already broken when Father refused to send Myrcella north," Tyrion reminded him.

"Yes," Cersei jumped in. "The Tullys have enough of our gold. We need it now more than ever."

"There is still the matter of some hostages being held at Riverrun," Ser Kevan added.

"Do we still hold some of their knights and lords?" Tyrion asked.

"Yes," Jaime said. "I believe that private negotiations for ransom for captured family members will continue. The Tullys and their bannermen may scream over our false promises, but they will still want us to release our captives. Stop the payments."

When no one else dissented or raised any objections Tyrion told Emmon to stop the next shipment. Then for a while they discussed finances, and how much gold was being mined, and how much repairs to Lannisport were , costs for the army, and so on. There was enough money, but the treasury of Casterly Rock would be a might poorer when they finally won this war.

"And the crown still owes Casterly Rock three million from King Robert's reign," Emmon said in conclusion to his report.

"Robert's debt, not Tommen's," Cersei told them.

"Still, as Lord of the Rock, I would like to see it repaid," Tyrion told her. "But let us set that aside until the war is over," After it was agreed to, Emmon made a note in a ledger book he had open in front of him.

After all this the little King yawned and his eyes were growing heavy.

"It is time for the King to go to bed," Cersei said, about to stand up.

"In a moment," Tyrion said and she gave him a dirty look but then sat again. "There is just one major issue, and I need His Grace's approval."

"What is it?" Cersei asked, barely controlling her anger.

"We need to raise new levies."

Ser Kevan shook his head. "Already we at the limits of what we can afford to keep in the army. The more men we raise, the fewer are in the fields and shops and mines and fishing boats. Production would suffer. We cannot keep men under arms indefinitely. Morale is already suffering and many men are requesting leave to go home."

"Then we must hire sellswords," Lefford suggested.

Jaime snorted. "They will stab us in the back the first chance they get and take the Rock and all our wealth for themselves."

"Perhaps," Tyrion said. "Swords we need, but I have no intention of paying for them."

Jaime looked at him in puzzlement. "Then where are these swords to come from, brother?"

"I plan to reinstate the Sword and Stars."

Jaime just gaped at him. Cersei looked at him with surprise and then almost admiration, or at least it looked that way, as if she was really seeing him for what he was for the first time. Lefford shook his head and muttered "no". Emmon looked puzzled, as if he had no idea what Tyrion meant. Only Kevan grinned, and nodded, as if seeing what Tyrion was getting at.

"You are mad," Jaime finally said, shaking his head. "The Targaryens spent rivers of blood stamping out the militant sects ages ago. The Sword and Stars are dead and should stay that way."

"No," said Cersei suddenly, siezing on the idea. "He's right. It will divide our enemies."

"Indeed," said Kevan with a grin. "The most faithful will flock to Tommen's side."

"Especially when we spread word that Stannis plans to install the Lord of Light as the only religion in Westeros," Tyrion added.

"He'd never!" Emmon said in shock.

"He might," Lefford stated. "If the rumors of this red woman are true."

"Not rumors," Jaime said ruefully. "She killed Renly…and Father."

Cersei scoffed at him. "A shadow…do you still believe that?"

He glared at her. "I know what he said as he died. You weren't there. I was."

"As was I…Your Grace," said Kevan, staring at Cersei.

"Yes…well," Tyrion started again after an uncomfortable silence. "We must make it a royal decree. King Tommen will reinstate the Warrior's Sons and the Poor Fellows. Then…"

"Which is which?" Emmon asked and Tyrion just sighed. Didn't anyone read history?

Apparently Jaime did, at least some. "The Warriors Sons are the Sword, knights who renounce their lands and titles and take up arms to defend the Faith against the unfaithful. The Poor Fellows are the same, except they are armed smallfolk, not knights. They are the Stars."

Tyrion gave him a nod. "Well done. Both orders were disbanded by the Targaryens after they grew too powerful."

"How can we prevent that?" Jaime asked.

"Why we will do as the Targaryens did, brother. Once our war is won, we will disband them, this time before they grow too powerful. Any who refuse will get what the Targaryens gave them."

Jaime grinned. "Cold steel."

Just then they heard a soft snore and all looked at Tommen, who was fast asleep with his head on his arms on the table.

"Well," Tyrion replied. "I think that concludes our meeting. We will tell Tommen on the morrow. That is all for now my lords, and Your Grace. We will meet at the same time on the morrow."

They got up to leave and Jaime quickly moved to Tommen's side. "I will carry him to his bed," he told Cersei and she seemed about to protest but then simply nodded and let Jaime carry him away. For a moment she stood watching them and Tyrion almost detected a softness to her demeanor. She seemed about to depart but closed the door and turned and looked at Tyrion, who was still sitting at the table.

"I want you to do something for me," she said.

"The last time you started a conversation with those words you threatened to imprison or hang Bronn and myself."

She smiled, and that was unexpected. She really does want something. "What did you say not too long ago? What is in the past is done with?"

"Spare me any flattery, Cersei. I know you still despise me. Get to the point."

Her smile fell. "As you wish. I want Jaime back."

"I did not know he went anywhere."

"Still so clever. You know what I mean."

"What happened between you two?"

She stared at him and then sighed. "If I tell you…"

"Not a word to a soul."

"I…I…was unfaithful. He took it badly."

Tyrion almost laughed. "With Robert? He was your husband."

"No, you little worm, not with Robert…forget it!" She turned to leave but he stopped her with one word.

"Yes."

"What?"

"I will do as you ask. At least I will do my best to make him reconcile with you. I can't promise it will be the same as before. That much is up to you. You don't even have to tell me who you were sleeping with. But I want a favor in return."

"What favor?" she asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion again.

"You will never oppose me again. You will formally state to the court and the whole realm that I am the Lord of Casterly Rock and that my heirs will succeed me...when I have any heirs, that is."

For a long moment he thought she would refuse but then finally she just nodded. "Agreed. If you do as I ask."

"I shall do my best."

Cersei left then and Tyrion sat for a long few moments, alone with only the lit candles for company. Much he had accomplished in one day but much more still had to be done. There would be resistance to his measures, resistance from the lords over the hostages issue, resistance from Riverrun over the payments being stopped, and resistance to reinstating the Sword and Stars. And he never even got around to broaching marriage plans for Tommen and Myrcella. That would have to be discussed, and soon.

All that was in the future. Tyrion was home, and he was in his element again, in the seat of power and making decisions. But he also knew he had to tread carefully, as those decision could mean the difference between life and death for him and all those he loved.

Outside the doors he found Bronn leaning against the wall, arms crossed, seemingly without a care as usual.

"Good meeting?" the sellsword asked.

Tyrion nodded. "Better than I expected. Come, Bronn. I am the lord of this pile of stones now, and I am inviting you to get drunk with me. We have one of the finest wine cellars in all of the realm and I mean to tap into a few kegs tonight. Then we shall take the grand tour of the Rock, including the treasure vault. As promised, you will get your reward. You can take your pick of anything your eye fancies, as long as it is not a family heirloom."

"A bag or two of gold will do."

"Why not make it three or four? Chests, not bags."

He grinned. "I'll not say no to that. But perhaps we can keep them here for now till I get my own lands and coin vault."

"A wise decision."

They walked for a bit and then Bronn spoke. "Are we going to win?"

Tyrion looked at him. "We?"

"Aye, 'we', your bloody lordship. I'm just asking…cause, well, I am growing fond of the idea of my own lordship and lands and all. I'm getting on in years, if you hadn't noticed. Being a sellsword is a rough life. Like to settle down while I can. Hate to have to give it all up so soon after getting it."

"Yes, we will win, Bronn," Tyrion said with all the confidence he could muster. "Come, let us put such thoughts aside for the night. We will have plenty of time in the future to brood on our fates."

Drunk they got, and the tour they took, and the highlight was seeing Bronn's eyes go wide as he looked in the treasure vault, and then go wider when Tyrion told him this was just one of four such vaults buried deep in the Rock. But despite the drink and other distractions, Tyrion could not forget Bronn's words. He brooded on the same questions Bronn did. He wondered if they would win. He wondered if he would have time to settle down himself. He wondered if the gods would grant him one more chance to find love. He had loved once and lost it all when he found out his wife was not what he thought she was. And now another whore occupied his mind much of late. Did he love Shae? Perhaps. But he could never make her his wife, and that pained him very much. He was Lord of the Rock, Hand of the King, one of the most powerful men in the realm, and yet happiness still eluded him, and he thought maybe he would never find it again.