[King's Landing - Red Keep, Cersei's Chambers]

Cersei sat in her chambers, enjoying a glass of wine as her Hand, Qyburn, informed of happenings in the city.

"Your brother will arrive soon. We've been told he's travelled long and hard to reach here in a timely manner."

"My brother who killed my eldest son and father."

"Yes," Qyburn concurred.

"What else?"

"There have been questions on the suddenness of you allowing more and more civilians into and near the Red Keep."

"It is simple. If there are innocents between me and the so-called Dragon Queen, she will not risk attacking King's Landing. Among her false titles is the 'Breaker of Chains'. She has gained a reputation for freeing slaves and will not act against that title or risk being seen as the second coming of her father."

"You mean to target her selflessness?"

"Precisely." Cersei concurred. "I have little left to lose. My only source of happiness, my children, are gone. Both of my sons are dead. My daughters stuck in foreign lands. No, the people have enjoyed watching my decline from power. It is time they suffer as I have."

"Your Grace, if this is the way you wish to proceed, you risk being seen as a Mad Queen. The people yearn for peace the kingdoms have not seen in some timr."

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in."

A messenger entered, bowing. "Your Grace, Lord Hand. Your brother's ship approaches."

"Very well." She stood. "Shall we greet my brother?"

Qyburn bowed, nodding his head, and following her as she exited her chambers.

[Blackwater Bay]

Cersei stood, surrounded by Jaime, Qyburn, The Mountain and her Queensguard.

The last time she stood here, it was to greet an ally, before that, it was to receive her daughter. Now, it was to greet the man who murdered her eldest son and father.

They watched as a small ship grew closer to the shore.

Once it docked, Tyrion was one of the first to disembark.

He walked up to Cersei. "Sister."

"Brother," she replied through gritted teeth.

[Throne Room]

The throne room was lined with many lords and ladies, eager to catch a glimpse of the murderous imp, who had betrayed his family and now served the woman who meant to invade them.

"You stand in the presence of Queen Cersei Lannister, First Of Her Name, Queen Of The Andals, Ruler Of The Seven Kingdoms-" Qyburn began.

"Yes, yes. I am familiar with the titles," Tyrion interrupted, causing gasps from those in attendance.

He was at the mercy of his sister who believed she killed his son and knew he killed their father. Yet, he showed no fear.

"Why are you here?" Cersei asked, getting straight to the point.

"I am here to broker peace."

"Peace? With the daughter of the Mad King? The false Queen who has landed in our country with an army of foreign invaders."

"Queen Daenerys is a Targaryen. Her family ruled for centuries before King Robert."

"And how many suffered under their rule?"

The crowd murmured in agreement.

"If you were to relinquish your claim of the Iron Throne, Queen Daenerys is willing to allow you to return to Casterly Rock."

"Return to my family seat? I think not."

"This is more than fair. Other rulers would have your families power stripped and granted to new, loyal families."

"It's your family as well, or have you forgotten?" She turned to two of her Queenguards. "Have him placed in a cell. He's already murdered my son and our father. We shouldn't give him more opportunity to cause more harm."

"Sister-" Tyrion began.

"Don't worry, brother. I will not kill you. Not yet."

The Wood Witch prophecy was as prevalent as evrr in her mind.

Two of her children, her sons, were dead. While the remaining two, her daughters, were lost to her, both in lands outside of their home.

When Cersei heard the word Valonqar meant little brother in High Valyrian, she was instantly sure this referred to Tyrion. He had made her miserable upon the the day of his birth. He made her miserable still.

She was certain, if he was given the chance, he would wrap his tiny hands around her throat and choke the life from her. She would not let that happen.

Even now, he stood against her, with a foreign invader. A younger woman, some who would say was more beautiful with her traditional Valyrian features, compared to Cersei's Andal.

Perhaps, all the other woman she had spited were not the one who would take everything from her. Maybe it was Daenerys Targaryen.

She wished she could kill Tyrion and simply remove him from the equation. But, she knew, every time she tried to run or intervene to keep the prophecy from being fulfilled, it has not worked. If anything, it has made things worse.

Besides, knowing Tyrion, he'd find a way to haunt her or rise from the dead.

There was no getting rid of him.

But, she could make his existence miserable.

His mind, rather his tongue, was his greatest asset. Without it, he was virtually useless.

Maybe that was what she would do. Rid him of the thing he took most pride in.

[Red Keep - Tyrion's Cell]

Tyrion had been escorted to cell, much like the one he had resided in after being accused of Joffrey's murder.

He sat down and waited patiently for news of his sister's decision.

"Has my sister to kill me now?" He asked, without looking up.

"I'm not sure," the voice said, causing him to raise his head. "But she is still deciding whether or not to cut out your tongue. We all know it's your favourite thing about yourself."

"Brother."

"Yes, I am your brother. I freed you, and you murdered our father."

"Do you want me to apologize? I won't. I'm not sorry for what I did. He was a horrible father, a horrible man. Everyone knew it."

"You might not have loved him. But, I did. Our sister did."

"Father was the one who couldn't love me." Tyrion exclaimed. "Do you truly believe me cruel enough that I felt nothing when I shot that bow into his heart?"

"Not nothing, no. I'm sure you felt hate. You didn't think about how your siblings would feel."

Tyrion scoffed. "It certainly is easy to stand there and say these things, because he actually liked you."

"Maybe," Jaime conceded. "But, that still gave you no right to kill him."

"You know, you should consider yourself lucky."

"Why is that?"

"You had everything. You felt a father's love, a mother's love, a sister's love, hell, you even had the people's love. You had the looks, the opportunities, skills in swordsmanship, the 'right' body. But you lost it all."

"I lost it with the death of my father."

"No," Tyrion shook his head. "You lost it when you became a Kingslayer. You f*cked your sister, allowed the Stark boy to capture you, and lost your sword hand trying to escape. Maybe if I had all the things you did, our father might have found it in himself to love me. You lost it all, and our father overlooked it. Because that was much easier than admitting his only heir was a dwarf who killed his mother as she gave birth to him. That's all people see when they look at me; the Imp, a murderous, cruel dwarf. If I had even half of what you did, I would make sure I nevr lost it. Not like you."

Jaime was left speechless as he listened to the resentment pour out from his own brother's mouth. He'd thought they'd had a good relationship. None of these things had crossed his mind. Sure, he was the only one, outside of Aelinor, Myrcella and Tommen, to treat him decently. But, he had no idea the depth of emotion his younger brother had been hiding.

Turning, he exited the cell, closing the door behind him, leaving Tyrion to wallow alone.

Not long after he had left, a guard entered the cell.

"The Queen has come to a decision. She would like me to escort you back to the Throne Room."

Tyrion stood, holding out his hands, expecting to be cuffed.

"That will not be necessary," the guard told him. "Surely, you have no intentions of fleeing before receiving an answer for your 'Queen'."

"No, I do not."

[Throne Room]

Tyrion reentered the throne room, finding it just as crowded as when he arrived.

"Consider yourself lucky," Cersei began. "You get to keep your tongue. If only to ensure maximum impact with the message you are going to give your 'Queen'. I will not forfeit the Throne, especially not to the daughter of the Mad King. If she insists on continuing this war, I have no problem killing any and all of her supporters... or her dragons."

"Cersei-"

"It is Your Grace," Qyburn corrected.

"Dragons have been killed before," Cersei told him. "They can be killed again." She stood from the Throne. "Tell her brother I want my daughter back. If he refuses, perhaps you can remind him of our unofficial House words. One way or another, my children will be returned to me."

"The realm does not need more war. That's all we've had with the War of The Five Kings. Now we have two Queens. It is the duty of a ruler to consider what is best for its people. War is not the answer. If you surrender today, you can live. Why risk death?"

"I will not be the one to die," Cersei protested, stubbornly. "But, if your 'Queen' wishes to speak to me she can join our summit of kingdom leaders."

This was the first he had heard of this.

"What summit?"

"The one where I accept oaths of obesience from any Lords and Ladies who have not declared for their Rightful Queen."

Tyrion hung his head. It had been a lost cause. He didn't know exactly what he expected. His sister was absolutely consumed by power.

Other than her children, being Queen was her greatest accomplishment.

All he could do now was return to Dragonstone, with news that his sister refused to relinquish the throne.

Meaning, war would ensue.

More war.