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Riding through the Gate of the Gods, Tyrion Lannister frowned at the lack of fanfare to which he entered the city. He wasn't expecting there to be people lined up in the streets, screaming his name and saying his praises and thanking the gods that he had arrived. But there was no one around the gate save for the Goldcloaks. No merchants. No small folk. No farmers. No traders. No one. Outside of the Street of Steel, Silk and the harbor, the Gate of the Gods was known to be one of the busiest locations in the city for trade. Yet now, there were only a few merchants lining the streets. None of whom were even trying to sell anything to him despite his large retinue and obvious wealth.
Little activity at one of the main gates did not bode well for the health of the city, combine that with the lack of activity he saw at the port as they were arriving, and he was not feeling optimistic. And the city just…felt different. He'd been to King's Landing several times during Robert's tenure as King. And while no-one would ever claim that he was a great King, he did keep the joy of the people high, and King's Landing was always a hub of activity. Now? The city almost felt dead.
"Not a pleasant start to my tenure as Hand," he mumbled to himself, urging his pony forward.
A few were looking towards him, but none were even trying to step forth and try to sell their wares. There was only one thing that could stop a merchant from trying to pry good coin from the high born. Fear. Fucking hells. It'd barely been a moon's turn since Harrenhal and only a fortnight since 'King' Joffrey took the throne. What in the hells had happened here?
Just as he was about to order his retinue towards the Red Keep, a small child darted out from one of the side streets. No one tried to stop him as he ran straight towards Tyrion, running full speed into the side of Tyrion's pony, causing the beast beneath his legs to jolt and it was only because of Tyrion's special saddle and his experience with this pony that he was able to keep from being thrown from his saddle. "Pologies, m'lord!" the child stuttered before darting off as fast as he'd appeared.
"My lord," the captain that'd been assigned to him rode up next to him, hand on his hilt and ready to draw his sword and run the retreating boy down.
"I'm fine," Tyrion replied, shrugging off the interaction while reaching down to readjust his boot that'd been dislodged from his stirrup during the collision. "The boy was no doubt excited about…"
His words trailed off as his hand reached his boot. There was something new tucked into the upper part of his boot. A small, folded piece of paper barely larger than his finger. Pulling the paper out from his boot, he unfurled it and found a single location written on the note. 'Sept of Baelor.'
Frowning, Tyrion crunched the note up in his fist. 'Barely in the city for a few moments, and already part of the game. Though I won't deny it…I am looking forward to playing with the Spider.'
"Change of plans, captain," he said, flicking his reigns. "We're heading for the Sept of Baelor before the Red Keep."
The captain didn't question his orders, such was the discipline that his father had installed in those sworn to House Lannister. An order given from a member of House Lannister was not to be questioned. Ever. As they rode through the city and towards the Sept, he was disheartened to realize that the conditions at the Gate of the Gods was not unique, but in fact the norm throughout the city. But it wasn't until they were approaching the Sept of Baelor and the plaza surrounding it that they finally found some actual activity. Dozens of large wooden structures in the form of a Seven-pointed star were erected throughout the plaza. But it wasn't the constructs that made him halt. No, it was the people whose limbs had been broken and twisted through the wooden stars that drew him up short. Men. Women. Old, middle aged…even a child or two were strung up on the stars. Their broken and bloodied limbs twisted through the wooden frame of the seven-pointed stars. All of them were dead.
"By the gods…" he heard a few of his own men mumble from behind him.
Tyrion was about to answer when he heard a roar from the crowd that was surrounding the base of the macabre display. Standing up in his stirrups, he once again cursed his lack of height as he tried to see what was drawing the attention of the crowd. Then he saw it. A new, empty, wooden seven-pointed star was laying on the ground. A woman, kicking and screaming, was being forced onto the ground while a large man with an equally large maul stepped forward while Septons yelled over the roar of the crowd, condemning her to her fate.
"Oh, to hell with this," Tyrion grumbled. "Captain, we're putting a stop to this. Now."
The captain nodded, drawing his sword, which caused all the others under his command to draw theirs as well. "In the name of Lord Tyrion Lannister, you will cease this display now!" The captain yelled, his voice, and more accurately his drawn blade, stopping the execution from going forward.
The crowd swiftly parted, giving room for Tyrion and his men to make their way forward towards the base of the stars and where the condemned woman was still being held down. The Septons and Septas that were surrounding the woman stopped what they were doing until one brave Septon stepped forward. "This is no concern of yours, Lord Lannister," the Septon growled, clearly not pleased with his presence. "Turn and leave now."
Tyrion felt his brow raise. The Faith had sure gotten bold in a short time. Or rather, they had always been bold. But now some idiot had let them off their leash.
"Please, m'lord!" the woman screamed from where she was being held down, fear in her voice and eyes, "I done nothing bu—!"
"Shut up whore!" the Septon roared, whirling back to face her. "You are an abomination and deserve to be put upon the Seven-pointed star to atone for your sins!"
"And what 'sin' has she committed to be condemned to such a fate?" Tyrion asked. "And who has condemned her?"
The Septon growled, but the executioner with the maul held firm. "I said that this is no concern of yours, Lord Lannister. We are performing the work of the Seven, and no one, not even a noble like yourself, is free of their laws."
Tyrion nodded. "True. We are all under the laws of gods and men.Even you. So, I ask you once again, Septon. What law has this woman broken and who was it that condemned her to this fate?"
The Septon was clearly not pleased. But a quick glance towards the men, and their bare steel, behind Tyrion finally had the man show some semblance of a mind. "She was outed as a witch and a heathen worshiper of the false 'old gods'. Her punishment is atonement on the Seven-pointed star."
Tyrion noted there was a significant omission in the man's tale. "And who was it that sentenced her? The King? A lord? Hells, I'll even accept a magistrate."
The Septon waved his hand dismissively. "There is no need for such things. She is guilty. And her atonement is now at hand."
"No, it isn't," Tyrion countered harshly. "No one. Not the King, not I, not you, and not this girl.No oneis above the laws of gods and men. And those laws state quite clearly that no one shall face death or any other punishment without proper trials." Granted, history had shown that these 'trials' need not be equal or even fair. But they still needed to take place.
The Septon scowled and waved his hand dismissively once again. "The King has decreed that the Faith need not hold a trial to do what needs be done."
"Has he?" Tyrion smirked, though a pit of fear also formed in his gut at the same time. "Let me see it then."
The crowd began murmuring as the Septon's brow furrowed. "See what?"
"The decree the King has made which gives the Faith the right to act as the King's Law and Justice."
He saw small beads of sweat beginning to form on the brow of the Septon. "The King has not written it down… But all know—!"
"Ah, you see that is a problem," Tyrion interrupted, sighing dramatically. "You see, people know what they are told. And you have told them that the King has given you this authority to act as his Law and Justice… Yet now you are saying that you do not haveproofof him doing so."
The Septon growled. "Fine. The heathen whore will be tried before the Seven, then sh—"
"Oh, there is no need to bother the Seven with this," Tyrion replied, swinging his leg off his pony and sliding down onto the ground. "I am a Lord of the Realm, after all. I can oversee this girl's trial. Now, let her up and stand before me."
The moment the Septons let go of the girl, she immediately threw herself at him. His men all tensed, but instead of attacking him, the girl threw herself at his feet and began begging. "Please, m'lord. I know not what they say I did. But I swear I did not do it!"
Tyrion frowned and glared at the Septons and Septas. "You were going to execute her…and she didn't even know what crimes have been levied against her? What crimes has she been accused of?"
The Septon, whose face had long since gone red, drew himself up to his full height. "She is a heathen whore who is known to sell her body for the pleasure of any. One of the faithful came forth, saying that she was seen praying to the false 'gods' and denying the faithful their due!"
The woman kept clutching at his feet and sobbing. "Is what he saying true girl? Are you a whore who is faithful to the old gods?"
The woman tilted her head back. He had to admit that, if the situation were different, he wouldn't mind paying a hefty sum for her services. "I – I am a whore, mi'lord. I do not deny that. But I ain't no follower of the old gods."
Tyrion turned his attention back to the Septon. "And who is this 'faithful' that you speak of that claims that they saw her praying to the old gods?"
The Septon growled, but eventually beckoned a man forth. The man was clearly disheveled and dirty. But he honestly was nothing special. The only thing that honestly stood out on the man was the wooden Seven-pointed star pendent he wore around his neck. "I was the one who saw her, mi'lord Lannister," the man said, though his tone clearly indicated that he did not care for Tyrion's rank or station.
Tyrion looked the man over before turning to the girl. "Tell me, girl. Do you recognize this man?" She nodded. "How?"
The girl whimpered but still managed to speak just loudly enough to be heard. "He…He frequently visits the brothel I work at, mi'lord. But he ran out of coin and…and demanded my services for free as he was one of the faithful. I told him that I could not, and he yelled at me, demanded I service him anyway. I kept saying no. Then he… Then he left. Then this morning the Septons and Septas came for me and…and told me that I am a heathen that needed to face my atonement upon the Seven-pointed star."
"The whore is lyin!" the man yelled instantly, but Tyrion held up his hand to silence him.
"Is there any present who can verify this girl's story?"
"I can, Lord Lannister."
That was a voice that Tyrion not only recognized but was surprised to hear. Turning his head, he saw the speaker making her way through the crowd. Her darker skin standing out in stark contrast to those around her. "Madame Chataya," Tyrion greeted her, having gotten to know her quite well considering how often he visited her establishments during his time in King's Landing. "I take it that this girl is one of yours?"
Chataya nodded, "she is. And I can vouch for her word. This man came into my establishment and demanded her services. When she gave him her price, he countered saying he was a man of the Faith and that she should give him her services for free. When she denied, he got angry and threatened her. I had him removed just as he was about to strike her. Before the sun rose this morning, a dozen Septons and their thugs showed up on my doorstep. Dragged her out of her bed and threatened all of us to share her fate should we even think of interfering."
Tyrion turned his eye back towards the 'accuser'. The man suddenly seemed to find his feet the most interesting things in the world. "How many can confirm your words, madam?" Tyrion asked.
"Every worker I have, plus a few merchants who were across the street and saw this man yelling that he demanded free services for being a 'servant of the True Faith'."
Tyrion glanced at the Septons, Septas, and the accuser. The Septas kept their eyes down and the Septons were all glaring openly. "You," he said, waving towards the accuser. "Are there any you can call forth that can dispute the counter claims laid against you? That you demanded free services of a whore. And that when she, correctly might I remind you, denied your request, you retaliated by trying to have her executed by the Faith?"
The accuser was sweating heavily and shaking slightly. "I…I…."
"You should know," Tyrion continued. "That should I find out that if you are lying, that Madame Chataya and the girl's version of events are true, then you can be held accountable for bearing false witness resulting in the near execution of an innocent woman. Such a crime is punishable by death."
The man was now shaking, "I – I…I take the Black, milord."
It was a damning thing to say. The man all but admitted to lying to have the girl punished without admitting it. "That is your right. Captain, see to it that this man is put on the first ship heading to the Night's Watch. And let that girl go. She isclearlyinnocent."
The Septon looked like he was about to argue, but he couldn't and instead motioned for the girl to be released. As soon as she was, she threw herself at Tyrion's feet. "Thank you, milord! Thank you! Thank you!"
Tyrion felt...proud. He was finally able to do some good. "I do not need your thanks, girl," he said before turning his attention towards Chataya. Waving her over, he lowered his voice so that few could hear. "Take her and get her out of the city. I do not doubt that someone will try and claim some sort of vindication against her for this embarrassment."
Chataya nodded before coming to the girl's side and leading her away and disappearing into the crowd.
"Hold one moment," Tyrion called out as the Septons and Septas, as well as their minions, began to wander away. "We have more to discuss. Namely, you claiming to have the right of the King's Law and King's Justice."
The Septon sneered. "We are the faithful of the true god, the Seven-Who-Are-One. We do not need to answer to you, Lord Lannister."
"I'm afraid that you do," Tyrion countered with a smile. "You see, ever since King Jaehaerys the Conciliator disbanded the Faith Militant, it was made clear that the Faith would have no authority over the King's Law or the King's Justice. Yet here you are, executing people both in clear violation of the laws of gods and men."
The Septon and those following him did not back down. "King Joffrey the Blessed has seen fit to decree that the faith can act as we will for the betterment of the people and in honor of the true gods."
"He has?" Tyrion questioned, holding out his hand. "Then let me see it."
The Septon blinked. "See what?"
"The decree that King Joffrey signed granting the Faith the right to act as the King's Law and Justice."
The Septon blinked dumbly as around them the people began murmuring. And he could understand their murmuring. Most here were illiterate. So, they could only count on the words they were told. If the Faith told them that the King said they could act like this, then who were they to question? But Tyrion was not them. "There is no written decree," the Septon growled.
Tyrion tsked and shook his head. "You see. That is a problem. Simple word of mouth is not enough to justify your actions in this regard. Claiming the King's Law and King's Justice as your own without a written decree from the King. And unlawfully killing anyone you wish… Tell me, Captain. I do believe we have a term for both actions, do we not? What are they?"
The captain stepped forward, his sword at the ready. "Treason and murder, my lord."
"Treason and murder," Tyrion nodded as he stared at the gathered faithful before him, all of whom suddenly looked very unsure of themselves. Turning his gaze upwards, Tyrion frowned at each corpse decorating the sky. "As Hand of the King and as a Lord of the Realm, I, Tyrion Lannister, do hereby find all these poor souls that have been unjustly executed innocent of the charges that were levied against them. Captain, see to it that they are all taken down and given proper rights. Then make sure that proper restitution is given to the families of the deceased. Draw the coin directly from the coffers of House Lannister to see it done. And as for this lot…I hereby find these men and women of the Faith to be guilty of treason and murder through the attempted usurpation of the King's Law and King's Justice. Captain, once you have taken these innocent souls down from the stars…Take the few ringleaders from the faithful who oversaw these executions and put them back up in their place."
The plaza exploded into a cacophony of noise. The people cheered, though whether from bloodlust or justice Tyrion didn't know, while the condemned 'faithful' fell to their knees, protesting their innocence. Tyrion ignored them all as he got back up into his saddle and continued his way towards the Red Keep as most of his men remained behind to see his orders were followed.
Arriving at the main gates of the Red Keep, the gold cloaks that were stationed at the gate didn't hesitate to raise the gate for him the moment they saw the sigil of House Lannister flapping behind him. Moving just inside the gate, he immediately heard cheering and merriment coming from one of the nearby courtyards. He could also see at least a dozen gold cloaks and red cloaks standing guard around the battlements surrounding the courtyard. "What is going on over there?" he asked one of the gold cloaks who had approached as the Keep's stable hands rushed over to see to their horses.
The gold cloak didn't look over his shoulder and his face remained completely impassive. "King Joffrey's name day celebration, milord."
"I see," Tyrion noted, hearing another cheer coming from beyond the walls, "I take it that the entirety of the royal family is celebrating then? The Queen-Mother as well as the Princess and Prince as well?"
The gold cloak nodded slightly. "The Queen-Mother is currently with the Small Council. Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen are with the King."
Nodding, Tyrion turned to the rest of the men that'd stayed with him to the Red Keep instead of seeing to the execution of the Septons and Septas. "See to it that the men are squared away. I doubt I will have need of any of you for the rest of the day now that we are safely inside the Red Keep."
Not waiting to hear their responses, Tyrion marched off towards the courtyard where his nephew was holding his name day celebration. 'Time to see just what sort of mess I am walking into… Though given all that transpired before the Sept of Baelor, I already know that I'm about to have a lot of work ahead of me.'
Ascending to the top of the battlements surrounding the courtyard, he immediately spotted an ornate pavilion tent that was surrounded by several imposing men in gold armor with white cloaks on their backs. And sitting in the middle of the tent were his niece and nephews. Just before the pavilion were three gold cloaks, holding a man up by his legs while forcing his head into a large barrel of what looked like wine. King Joffrey was smiling widely and sitting on the edge of his seat in eagerness at the sight before him. While Princess Myrcella was half shielding Prince Tommen who was clearly trying his best not to stare at the vicious display before him. Before he could raise his voice, the three gold cloaks pulled the poor sod out of the wine barrel, the man was dead. Drowned in a barrel of wine.
"My dear nephew!" Tyrion called out, drawing attention to himself as he walked forward, taking care to avoid the freshly made corpse that was now being dragged away from the King. "I was expecting to find you on the battlefield, giving aid and council in your Exalted March."
Joffrey seemed taken aback by his sudden arrival. "Uncle Tyrion…I have been where I am needed, here running the Kingdoms."
Tyrion smirked as he picked up a cup and poured himself some wine. Arbor gold if he was not mistaken. "And a fine job you are doing of it as well," he smirked as Joffrey frowned, clearly trying to figure out if Tyrion was insulting him or not. Which of course, he was. Turning his attention to his other nephew and niece, he favored them both with a smile before giving each a hug. "My lovely niece, your beauty is growing with each passing day. And you, Tommen, you take after your father with the way you are growing. Why, one day you will be bigger than any man here…and far better looking as well. The maidens will certainly swoon at the sight of you as you pass by."
Tommen smiled shyly at him, while Myrcella beamed. "I'm glad you are here, Uncle. It's good to see you again."
"Indeed, my dear. Perhaps when we have more, time we can sit and catch up more thoroughly. I have much I would like to discuss with you regarding your lessons and some of the books I recommended for you."
Myrcella smiled. "I would enjoy that, uncle."
Smiling, he finished off his cup and set it back down. "Unfortunately, that time is neither here or now. I have a lot of work to see to. So, if you will excuse me your grace, I will see to it."
Joffrey called out, asking him what work he was talking about, but Tyrion ignored him as he walked away from the courtyard and into the Red Keep proper. It took him only a moment to orient himself within the keep before he made his way towards the meeting chambers of the Small Council. There were two guards standing watch outside the chamber doors, but given who he was, they did not stop him as he pushed open the chamber doors and into the council room. He could vaguely hear his sister saying something regarding the smallfolk, but he didn't care as he began calmly whistling 'The Rains of Castamere' as he made his way through the foyer of the Small Council chambers and made his presence known to all those within.
His sister, as was her right as the Queen-Mother, was sitting at the head of the Small Council chambers. Though that seat should've been occupied by the King. But, given Robert's tendencies to all but ignore the Small Council meetings, he wasn't surprised that Joffrey had decided to follow in his 'father's path. Maester Jeorge was sitting on his sister's left while across from him sat Petyr Baelish and Varys. There was a fourth man as well who was sitting next to the Grand Maester, one that Tyrion didn't recognize but given his gold cloak and armor, he assumed that this man was the new commander of the gold cloaks.
"Don't get up on my account," he said, reveling in the shock and confusion on the face of each individual present. Walking up to his sister, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, one which she pointedly ignored. "More ravishing than ever, dear sister. War and widowhood agree with you, it seems."
"What are you doing here, Tyrion?" his sister asked through gritted teeth as Tyrion walked to the opposite end of the table from her and took a seat.
"Forgive me," he said, taking up a cup and pouring himself yet another cup of wine. "It has been an exhausting journey, and I am quite parched. Seems like ever since the Tourney of Harrenhal, I have been doing little more than traveling on the road."
"What are you doing here, Tyrion?" Cersei asked again, this time far more forcefully. "This is the Small Council."
Tyrion nodded. He was going to enjoy this more than a dozen whores. "Yes… Well…I do believe that it is customary for the Hand of the King to be present at all meetings of the Small Council."
Oh, the look on his sister's face was priceless. And he lamented the fact that he had not hired an artisan to capture her face on a canvas. "Father is Hand of the King."
Tyrion drained the rest of his glass and nodded as he reached into his doublet and pulled out a scroll sealed with his family's crest. "Yes, but… In his absence," he said, handing the letter off to Varys.
His sister clearly knew what was about to happen, even if she didn't want to hear it. Breaking the seal, Varys unfurled the scroll and took his time in reading it. If he didn't know better, then Tyrion would bet that the Spider was also enjoying his sister's predicament. "Lord Tywin Lannister has appointed Lord Tyrion Lannister as acting Hand of the King as he leads the Exal—"
"OUT! ALL OF YOU GET OUT!"
The four men all got up and scurried out of the council chambers like rats running from a cat. Now alone, Cersei continued glaring at him from her place across the table. "I want to know how you tricked father into allowing this."
Tyrion just shook his head and laughed. "Dear sister, if I were capable of truly tricking Father like this, then I would be Emperor of the world right now. You have brought this on yourself, dear sister."
Still glaring, Cersei got up from her seat and moved to the spot Varys had vacated so that they would be closer. "I have done nothing," she said defiantly, sitting down.
Tyrion nodded in agreement. "Quite right. You did nothing when your son jumped on the Throne before the time of proper grieving could be reached. And you did nothing to stop him from declaring a war against half of Westeros."
Cersei held her chin up. "You overestimate the North. They are not 'half' of Westeros—"
"And you understate them, sister," Tyrion countered back. "And considering all six of the southern Kingdoms can fit into the North, I am correct in saying that Joffrey has not only declared war against half of Westeros, but also against anyone who holds faith to the old gods. Which, need I remind you, has recently seen a resurgence thanks in no small part to the advancements provided by the Starks and the Sorcerer."
Cersei pursed her lips. "The 'size' of the North means nothing without the numbers to back it. We have three times the men and we have Father. This war will be over soon enough. The North is little better than the Iron Isles, and they will be defeated just as quickly."
Tyrion could not help but shake his head and sigh, which drew a sharp look from his sister. "You are a fool, sister. If you think this war will be similar to the Greyjoy Rebellion. Which, might I add, was only so short in large part thanks to the strength of the Northern armies and the power of the Sorcerer. Two things which are now working against us."
Cersei shook her head. "And how much do you know about war?"
Tyrion had to concede her point. "Very little. But father does know about war. And even he has acknowledged, though not publicly of course, that this is not a war that we will be able to win outright on the field. Our best hope is to keep the North in the North. Keep them isolated and force them into submission."
Cersei swallowed hard. "And how are we to keep the North in the North?"
Tyrion refilled his glass. "You love your children, Cersei. It's youroneredeeming quality. That and your cheekbones, I guess. The Starks and Nox are no different. They love their families more than anything. And it is through them that we will force the North into submission, not on the field of battle. I trust that Lady Nox, the Stark girls, and the Stark ward are being kept comfortable."
Cersei glared down at the table. "We don't have them."
Tyrion smirked and shook his head. "Of course you don't. The greatest weapon we have against the Starks and the Sorcerer, and your ill thought out ploy allowed them to slip right through our fingers. I trust you have sent out men to find them?"
"Of course we have!" Cersei snapped.
"And seeing as how you have not found them yet, we will be recalling the men you have sent out," Tyrion continued. "By now they are far away from King's Landing. They are either in hiding or they are trying to make it back to friendly soil. Either way, we will be sending out ravens calling for the capture and return to King's Landing of Lady Nox, both Stark girls, and the Stark ward. We will make it known that no harm is to be brought upon them. Should even a hair on their heads be harmed, not only will the reward be forfeit, so will the lives of those that harmed them."
Cersei frowned. "Joffrey has already sent out decrees calling for the heads of any who carry the name Stark or Nox. Dead or alive."
"And we will alter that decree to alive and unharmed, at least for the women," Tyrion pressed. "You do know the tale of Ser Corbray's fate, do you not, dear sister? It is not a simple tale made up by the bards or an exaggeration of what happened. And I, for one, have no wish to have such a fate visited upon myself should Lady Nox come to harm. Nor do I wish such a fate to fall upon our family, especially my beloved niece and nephew, should the Sorcerer decide to take his anger out on all of us should something happen to his lady wife."
The fate of the late Lyn Corbray was one that put his father's retribution against the Reynes and Tarbecks to shame. It was a story mothers now told their children to scare them into behaving. And it apparently even worked on royalty as his sister visibly stiffened as her face when ashen. "We will…revise the order."
Tyrion nodded. "Good. In the meantime, we will have Lord Stark sign off on a letter and send it north. Urging his sons and Lord Nox to stay in the North. It won't work. But it might at least slow the North down. And we will need every advantage to stay ahead of a pissed off Northern host led by an equally pissed off pair of Stark sons and a master Sorcerer."
At this, his sister went completely silent as she stared once again at the table. "Eddard Stark is…gone."
Tyrion didn't say anything as he stared at his sister for a long pregnant pause. Slowly, he reached up and dug a finger into his ear. "Forgive me, sister, I fear I think I had something in my ear that was affecting my hearing. Because I surely hope that youdid notjust say that Eddard Stark, ourlastremaining hostage and ouronly hopeof at leastslowing downthe North, is…gone."
Cersei's fists clenched into tight balls. "He is gone. Someone took him from the Black Cells and now he has…disappeared."
"Disappeared?" Tyrion questioned harshly, glaring at his sister. "What? In a puff of smoke? We had three Starks, a Stark ward, and the Lord Sorcerer's wife to use as leverage for a Northern surrender…and you have lost all of them. It must be so different for you, isn't it, sister? To be the disappointing child? You've allowed your son, our King, to provoke the North and the Sorcerer into war, as well as imprisoning the former Warden of the North, only to lose all our hostages that we could've used to leverage our position in this war."
Cersei didn't respond, and before she could the doors to the Small Council chambers were thrown open as armored footfalls filled the chamber. Turning towards the door, Tyrion hopped down from his chair as he saw Joffrey, his face red, charging into the chamber halls with two white cloaks at his back. "My dear nephew," Tyrion smirked. "The Small Council is taking a short break while the Queen-Mother and I—"
"YOU KILLED SEPTONS!" Joffrey shouted, his eyes alight with fury that might've matched Robert. Though unlike Robert whose rage was often directed, Joffrey's rage seemed wild and uncontrolled.
Tyrion nodded. "Yes, I did."
Cersei turned her head towards him, her eyes wide in surprise, though that quickly disappeared as a cruel grin spread across her face. Joffrey sputtered, clearly not expecting Tyrion to so readily admit his execution of members of the faith. "YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO CALL FOR THEIR DEATHS! THEY—!"
"Were usurping the right of the King's Law and the King's Justice by taking any amongst the smallfolk they wish and executing them upon the Seven-Pointed-Star without trial," Tyrion countered back quickly. And he quickly continued talking over Joffrey as his nephew made to open his mouth. "Which is treason and murder. They claimed to have a declaration from His Grace giving them a right to do so, but they could not produce the written declaration."
"I GAV—!"
"And seeing as how only avicious, idiot incompetentKing would even think of giving a group as powerful as the Faith power of the King's Law and Justice. And as I know you arenota vicious, incompetent idiot…I knew that you wouldnotbe dumb enough or gullible enough to give such a decree," Tyrion pressed, glaring at Joffrey, who's rage had slowly tapered off. "After all, with the ability to wield the King's Law and Justice, what use would the Faith have for the monarchy? How long until they simply decided that they no longer needed to entertain the Royal Family and decided to have them brought to 'justice' to face any supposed crime they wanted? Who would be able to challenge them if they controlled the people's faith, the laws of the faith, and the laws of the realm? And as Hand of the King until your grandfather returns to King's Landing, I have the right, and exercised that right, to oversee the trials against murderers and traitors to the crown."
His face still holding onto the fringes of rage, Joffrey glared at him. But as the realization of Tyrion's words settled over him, the rage slowly morphed. Instead of trying to block Joffrey's rage at his actions, he had simply redirected it as one would redirect a river. "You will consult me before taking further actions against the Faith," Joffrey growled before turning on his heel and marching out of the hall with the Kingsguard silently falling into step behind him.
"I do hope you were paying attention, dear sister," Tyrion smirked as he sat back down and picked up his glass again.
Cersei glared at him. "You were fortunate in this instance. But your wit won't save you for long. Soon enough, you will find yourself upon the Seven-Pointed-Star with the rest of the heathens."
"For your sake, dear sister, you should do your best to prevent such a fate," Tyrion shot back. The idea of dying like that truly terrified him and the mere thought was almost enough to make him mind his tongue.
His sister smirked as she leaned back in her chair. "And why would I do anything to prevent it?"
"Because, dear sister," he said, pouring himself another cup. "To quote father exactly, this Exalted March is aBaratheonwar decreed by aBaratheonKing. And should a son of House Lannister, who are at the forefront of this march, die at the hands ofsaid BaratheonKing as he was simply trying to advise him… Then why shouldHouse Lannistercontinue to hold faith to theBaratheonmonarchy?"
The message was sent to his sister, whose delicate eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. "And when did father ever start caring for you so?"
Tyrion laughed at that. "Do you truly think he does care, sister? No. If he actually did care about me, he wouldn't have sent me here to potentially die at your son's hand. Can't you see father's play, Cersei? Either I succeed as Hand of the King and convince Joffrey to bring peace to the Realm. Or I end up pissing off Joffrey to the point where he dismisses me, either by exile or death. No matter the outcome, Father will get what he wants."
Cersei couldn't meet his eyes as she glared straight ahead. "Joffrey is King."
"Joffrey is King," Tyrion agreed. For now.
"And you are here to advise him."
"And I am here to advise him," Tyrion agreed. "And should our King listen to me, we might regain some semblance of peace across the realm once more and avoid either having our heads decorating the walls or having our souls stuck in stone for eternity. Now, dear sister. Perhaps you can tell me just how the most honorable and arguably thestrongest supporterof the Baratheon monarchy suddenly decided to turn traitor?"
Cersei's hand, which was reaching for a cup of wine, froze. It was just for a moment before continuing, but it was long enough for Tyrion to notice. "The Sorcerer enticed Lord Eddard, and his family, into rebellion so that he could claim the Iron Throne through the Starks."
Leaning back, Tyrion scratched at the several days' worth of beard growth on his face. "Not a bad tale. And one that the masses might just accept. But you can't expect I, and especially father, to buy that load of horse shit. The truth,now, dear sister."
Cersei remained silent, causing Tyrion to sigh. "Then perhaps we will start off with an easier question then. At least until I can speak with Jamie personally as you seem so adamant to stay quiet. What was the exact wording of the will the late King Robert left. The one that you destroyed. Tell me exactly what it said, dear sister. Or my next stop will be to the Grand Maester's chambers to hear the words myself before heading over to the ravenry so that I can inform our father of your…difficulties in memory."