[Red Keep - The Hand's Chambers]

Tyrion entered his father's chambers. Inside, Lord Tywin Lannister, Queen Cersei Lannister, Varys, and Grand Maestar Pycelle were already seated. King Joffrey Baratheon walked behind his grandfather, excited and grinning.

"Killed a few puppies today?" Tyrion asked.

"Show him. Come on, show him." Joffrey urged.

Hand shaking, Pycelle offered a scroll to Tyrion. He dropped it before Tyrion could grab it.

"Oh, apologies, my lord. Old fingers."

Annoyed, Tyrion reached to the floor and snatched the scroll. He read it as Joffrey was manic with energy.

"'Roslin caught a fine fat trout. Her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding. Signed Walder Frey.' Is that bad poetry or is it supposed to mean something?"

"Robb Stark is dead. And his bitch mother." Joffrey could not hide his pleasure at the news. He turned to Maestar Pycelle. "Write back to Lord Frey. Thank him for his service and command him to send Robb Stark's head. I'm going to serve it to Sansa and my traitor sister at my wedding feast."

"Your Grace, Lady Sansa is your aunt by marriage, and Princess Morgana is your sister by blood." Varys told him.

"A joke. Joffrey did not mean it." Cersei said.

"Yes, I did. I'm going to have it served to Sansa and Morgana at my wedding feast." Joffrey ordered.

"No. Sana is no longer yours to torment." Tyrion protested. "Nor is your sister. She just lost her husband."

"Everyone is mine to torment. You'd do well to remember that, you little monster."

"Oh, I'm a monster. Perhaps you should speak to me more softly, then. Monsters are dangerous and just now kings are dying like flies."

The room went silent and Joffrey was aghast at the slight.

"I could have your tongue out for saying that." He told his uncle.

Cersei took Joffrey's hand to calm him. "Let him make his threats. Hmm? He's a bitter little man."

"Lord Tyrion should apologize immediately. Unacceptable, disrespectful, and in very bad taste." Pycelle said.

Joffrey pulled his hand free from his mother's caress. "I am the king! I will punish you."

"Any man who must say, 'I am the king' is no true king. I'll make sure you understand that when I've won your war for you." Tywin told him.

"My father won the real war. He killed Prince Rhaegar. He took the crown while you hid under Casterly Rock!"

Once again, the room goes silent as the depth of the insult sinks in.

"The king is tired. See him to his chambers." Tywin told his daughter.

Cersei stood and tried to lead Joffrey away. "Come along."

"I'm not tired."

"We have so much to celebrate. A wedding to plan. You must rest." Cersei pulled Joffrey towards the door.

"Grand Maester, perhaps some essence of nightshade to help him sleep."

"I'm not tired!" Joffrey protested again, sounding that much more like a child, rather than a king.

"Come."

Cersei and Joffrey exited. Pycelle stood, took the scroll from the table, and shuffled out. Next, Varys rose smoothly to depart. Tyrion cautiously swivelled to leave as well.

"Not you." Tywin told his son.

Tyrion measured the situation as Varys exited. "You just sent the most powerful man in Westeros to bed without his supper."

"You're a fool if you believe he's the most powerful man in Westeros."

"A treasonous statement. Joffrey is king."

"You really think a crown gives you power?"

Tyrion sat back down at the table. "No. I think armies give you power."

"Mm-hmm."

"Robb Stark had one, nevr lost a battle, and you defeated him all the same."

"Mm-hmm."

"Oh, I know. Walder Frey gets all the credit. Or the blame, I suppose, depending on your allegiance. Walder Frey is many things, but a brave man? No. He nevr would have risked such an action if he didn't have certain assurances."

"Which he got from me. Do you disapprove?"

"I'm all for cheating. This is war."

"But to slaughter them at a wedding. Explain to me why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner." Tywin said.

"So that's why you did it? To save lives?"

"To end the war. To protect the family. Do you want to write a song for the dead Starks? Go ahead, write one. I'm in this world a little while longer to defend the Lannisters, to defend my blood."

"The Northerners will nevr forget."

"Good. Let them remember what happens when they march on the south. All the Stark men are dead. Winterfell is a ruin. Roose Bolton will be named Warden of the North until Morgana's child, hopefully a son, by Robb Stark comes of age." Tywin gathered his papers and stood. "I believe you still have some work to do on that score. Your niece has secured the North for us. Yet, you continue to refuse to do the same."

"Do you think she'll open her legs for me after I tell her how we murdered her mother and brother?"

Tywin placed the papers on his desk as Tyrion approached. "One way or another, you will get that girl pregnant."

"I will not rape her."

"Shall I explain to you in one easy lesson how the world works?"

"Use small words. I'm not as bright as you."

"The house that puts family first will alwys defeat the house that puts the whims and wishes of its sons and daughters first. A good man does everything in his power to better his family's position regardless of his own selfish desires." He watched as Tyrion smirked. "Does that amuse you?"

"No, it's a very good lesson. Only it's easy for you to preach utter devotion to family when you're making all the decisions."

"Easy for me, is it?"

"When have you ever done something that wasn't in your interest but solely for the benefit of the family?"

"The day that you were born. I wanted to carry you into the sea and let the waves wash you away. Instead, I let you live. And I brought you as my son. Because you're a Lannister."

Tywin walked away, leaving Tyrion to absorb his words.

When Tyrion entered his chambers, he found Sansa staring out the window.

"Sansa."

Sansa turned to him. Her face was wet and swollen from crying. She looked at Tyrion with disdain before turning back to the window.

Tyrion quickly decided it was best to let her be.

Meanwhile, in the gardens, Shae stared out at the ships in the harbor. Varys approached behind her.

"When did you come to this strange country?" He asked.

"When I was thirteen."

"You were only a child."

"I stopped being a child when I was nine. My mother made sure of that."

"You've been a good influence on our mutual friend, you know. He used to drink from sundown to sunup, visit three brothels a night, gamble away his father's money. Now it's just the drinking."

"And now I'm his wife's servant. I brush her hair and clip her nails and empty her chamber pot."

"She is a sweet young thing. None of this is her fault."

"I love that girl. I would kill for her. Do you think that makes it easier for me?"

"No, I expect not."

"She's young and she's beautiful and highborn."

"We break bread with them, but that doesn't make us family. We've learned their language, but we'll nevr be their countrymen. If you let yourself believe that a foreign girl with no name could spend her life with the son of Tywin Lannister-"

"I have a name."

"You have one name. As do I. Here only the family name matters."

"What do you want from me, Lord Varys?"

Varys handed Shae a small bag of diamonds. "Diamonds. I'd tell you to beware carrying so much wealth, but you know how to protect yourself. Get on one of those ships. Sail to Pentos or Lys or Myr. You can buy a house with these diamonds, a very large house. Hire servants. Start a new life, a good life, far from here. The mysterious foreign beauty. You'll have suitors lining up."

"Why do you want me to leave?"

"Tyrion Lannister is one of the few people alive who could make this country a better place. He has the mind for it, he has the will, he has the right last name. And you- you are a complication. I know you love him. And I know it's true love not bought by gold and silver. I'm not asking you to leave him for money. I'm asking you to leave because your presence in the capital endangers him. This will nevr be your home, my lady. Find a true home somewhere far from here while there's still time." Varys moved to leave.

"Lord Varys." Shae tossed the bag of diamonds at Varys' feet. "If he wants me to leave, he can tell me himself."

She walked away.

Tyrion returned to his chambers in the evening to find them empty.

He invited his squire, Podrick, to enjoy some wine with him.

Tyrion and Podrick sat drinking at his table.

"Keep up." Tyrion said.

"I don't think I can, my lord."

Tyrion poured more wine for each of them. "It's not easy being drunk all the time. Everyone would do it if it were easy.

Cersei entered from the garden. "Leave."

Podrick stood and exited.

"So, enjoying married life? An unhappy wife is a wine merchant's best friend." Cersei poured herself some wine.

"She doesn't deserve this."

"Deserve? Be careful with that. Start trying to work out who deserves what and before long you'll spend the rest of your days weeping for each and every person in the world." Cersei told him.

"There's nothing worse than a late-blooming philosopher."

Cersei chuckled.

"Will you be facing your marriage to Ser Loras with the same philosophical spirit?"

"I won't be marrying Ser Loras."

"I seem to remember saying something similar about my own marriage."

"You're not me. You want to make things better for Sansa? Give her a child."

"So you can tell Father it was you who finally talked me into it?"

"So she can have some happiness in her life."

"You have children. How happy would you say you are?"

"Not very. But if it weren't for my children, I'd have thrown myself from the highest window in the Red Keep. They're the reason I'm alive."

"Even Joffrey?"

"Even Joffrey. He was all I had once. Joffrey was born out of love. Before Myrcella was born. I used to spend hours looking at him. His wisps of hair. His tiny little hands and feet. He was such a jolly little fellow. You alwys hear the terrible ones were terrible babies. 'We should have known. Even then we should have known.' It's nonsense. Whenever he was with me, he was happy. And no one can take that away from me, not even Joffrey- how it feels to have someone. Someone of your own." Cersei sat.

"How long does it go on?"

"Until we've dealt with all our enemies."

"Every time we deal with an enemy, we create two more."

"Then I suppose it will go on for quite a long time." Cersei said.

The next day, the market in the streets of King's Landing was busy and teeming with daly life. Ser Jaime Lannister entered the gate, soiled by dais of travel. He marvelled at being back in the capital after so long. Lady Brienne Of Tarth followed just behind.

"Out of the way. Step aside, country boy. People working here." A man said, knocking in to Jaime.

Jaime, a polar opposite to his typical bravado, was quiet and humble. He exchanged a look with Brienne, who nodded encouragingly. They walked into the clamor, making their way to the Keep.

In her chambers, Cersei sat, admiring a collection of exotic shells, reliving a memory. Jaime entered quietly behind her.

"Cersei."

Cersei looked up and gasped. They measured one another before she noticed Jaime's hand. He looked down.

They were together again, but neither one was whole.