Game of Thrones Tales: Back to the Throne Room…

Summary: There's only one solution when Tyrion and Sansa have found the new King as mad as the Mad Targaryen and cynically evil, once on the throne, as Joffrey. So evil he's happily allowed the world to be invaded by unspeakably hideous creatures from some little planet out on the spiral rim of the Galaxy, to secure his reign of terror.

Part II…

I say it as a personal mantra, a dozen times a day…"I miss her. I miss my wife." Tyrion thought as he paused to luxuriate in the embrace in which he was now enfolded.

"Dearest…" Sansa whispered. "Another day safe, another gift from the gods." She squeezed.

"Not if you squeeze any tighter, my love." He gasped, chuckling. She maintaining the embrace, pulling head back to look at him. "Liar…" shrewd look. "You're so slippery an eel you'd…Pop…Right up and out." She grinned.

"I suppose you know we have a dinner engagement." He noted. She sighing…

"Fuck it, yes…" grimly.

"Dear…" he sighed in turn. "I fear your sainted mother's spirit will finally hurl me out the Eyrie Moon Door for the way I've influenced your language."

"And if she did, I'd stop her. And tell her, we'd all be together if our 'nobility' had enabled her to see you just once as you are."

"Heavens forbid…She'd really kill me." He gave mock-horrified stare. "Can you bear it or should I make excuse? I can give you something mild…You could vomit, accidentally on the General himself." Grin.

"You wicked Imp." She grinned back. "No, I'll not let you suffer alone. I can bear it. And maybe I'll hear something useful."

"Sansa." He gave her a worried look. "If you hear something, that's fine. But don't go playing spy. These people may find you charming and amusing but they're utterly convinced at heart that we are nothing but animals who happen to look a lot like them. Don't trust too far in their smiles and little kindnesses. We're pets to them…Playthings. And sometimes playthings get broken, just for the hell of it."

"I'll be careful." She nodded. "Haven't you always said, I would survive us all?" smile.

"I pray each day to the gods, even that Dirt God, for that." He gave wan smile. "So, how were things at school and the orphanages and hospitals? Did you have a good day? Did the Queen go with you?"

"Margeary was there at the Orphanage." Sansa suddenly solemn. "Tyrion? She was worried about Aegon's new treaty."

"Another? What did they ask for this time? Our underwear and the blood of our children's children's children?"

"He didn't mention it to you…The Council?"

"Nothing, no…" he paused, heading to the door of the kitchen and opening… "Hello?! May? A tankard of ale for me…And one for the Mistress."

"Getting me drunk before dinner?" Sansa smiled.

"It's my way of courting…You know that. Besides, you didn't say no." he noted shrewdly.

"I suppose I could use it." She nodded. "It was a long day."

"My Lady…My Lord." May, a tall, thin girl in servant outfit brought in two tankards on a tray and set them on a long dining table.

"Thanks, May. We are going out to dinner tonight, sorry if that disrupts Nan's plans."

"I already warned her we'd be going…" Sansa, hastily.

"Oh, good then. Though I rather like recooked. Nan never gets my meat as black as I like the first time. Well, May, you and Nan may take the evening off, starting as soon as you take this tray in. Get along with you. But don't exceed curfew." Stern wag of finger. "I can't always use my influence to get you two wildlings out of trouble, you know." He smiled.

"Yes, milord." Nod. May grabbing tray and hurrying off.

"Either she's a very good spy or she's innocent." Tyrion noted to Sansa as the door closed. "But best to assume she's a spy."

"Nothing ever changes, does it?" sigh.

"Well, she may be a spy for the Occupiers…Though they are refreshing in that they are rather clumsy in that regard. They so tend to rely on their weaponry and numbers…Alright, we're alone as we can hope to be. What about the treaty?" he eyed her. "And yes, we haven't heard a word."

"It gives them more territory in the east to use unrestrained and revokes our right to review there."

"The Dothraki won't like that. It being their territory. But Aegon may have had little choice…"

"I don't trust Aegon, Tyrion." Sansa shook her head. "I know you believe he's a friend…"

"I wouldn't go that far. I want to believe he's cooperating for the safety of our people. After all…" he lowered voice. "Until full Winter comes, we've no chance against the Dirters…We don't want another bloodbath as with poor Stannis and his rebellion."

"No…But Tyrion…" Sansa bit lip… "Margeary says…She sees a little of Joffrey in Aegon, more each day. And I do too…Since the Occupiers came and Stannis was removed as a threat, he's been more and more determined, she says, to recover his powers as king. And she thinks he's doing more than just placating the Occupiers…" She eyed him carefully. "We are with him more than you, especially her…I hope you place some value in what we say."

"I've never been one to deny the value of bedroom intelligence, Sansa." Smile, then sigh. "I've seen him wince at the checks we've put on him…I half suspected he'd try to break out of the bounds the Council and the Charter set, right from the start, but…Like Joffrey?"

"He is a Targaryen."

"But not of union of brother and sister…" Tyrion sighed. "I'd hoped that would spare us another Mad King…He did agree not to marry Danerys. Not that he particularly wanted her or she, him. But they feel it was…Tradition."

"Margeary believes he loves her. In that, he is better than Joffrey…And I did say 'like Joffrey' not 'Joffrey reborn'…" shudder.

Tyrion putting an hand on her shoulder. "If I ever thought he was another Joffrey…" solemn stare. "And this is from the man who killed his own cunt of a father. A cunt of a mad King? No problem."

"But what can you do? If he was killed, the Occupiers would take it as an attack on them, especially if he's as close to them as Margeary believes."

"The Queen has a shrewd head…And a remarkably strong stomach. I'm willing to accept her opinion…And yours. And you're right…It would be dangerous, unless we could convince the Dirters that Aegon's too much of a liability. If he was no longer of use to them, they'd probably depose him themselves. Maybe even put me on the throne…" he gave her a mock-shocked stare. "Is that your little game my fox? To put hubby on the Iron Throne, at last?"

"You'd slide off…" she frowned, grinning immediately. "But, if they did…"

"No, they'd insist on letting us hold some farce of an election…Voiding anyone they disliked, of course. Voiding likely meaning in the most extreme way…And while the Council shows me a modicum of respect, they'd never put me on the throne unless they expected the Occupiers to start shooting Kings shortly. Still, the Council are all good men, thank the gods. If any one of them were put in Aegon's place…" sigh. "I hate to believe he's already degenerated like that. But I have to admit I'd heard disturbing reports. And while he has shown a friendly face to me and supported liberation to our faces in secret…It's possible he's been deceiving us."

Sansa, anxious…"You haven't trusted him…Not with…Too much?"

"That I, Heavens help us…Am more or less by default, the leading organizer of resistance around the world? No, even I'm not that stupid…And I love you far too much to risk you being implicated. No, I've only expressed a desire to protect our people with him. Just as I've never told him it was I who gave Stannis the formulation of wildfire that enabled him to burn that dragon and force the truce. Poor Stannis, a brave fellow, really…Gods rest his soul. He fought to the last, sword in hand against their bullets and napalm and rockets. A Barathreon if there ever was one…"

"I think…"Sansa paused. "Maybe it's because I'm a coward, but I think it's braver sometimes to survive…At least when there's hope of some kind if you survive, to win in the end." She stared at him.

"You are the bravest person I have ever known, Sansa Stark." He eyed her, taking her hands in his. "Well, lets put on our bravest, survivalist, pleasantest…" he shook her hands at each adjective… "…faces and have dinner with the Dragon and the Devils. And then, see what's to be done…"

He grinned at her slight frown…

"I know, I'm a regular Littlefinger these days, though not as clever, perhaps."

"Perhaps…But I'm sure you fuck better." Smile. "Not that I've had the experience to compare." Arch look.

"You wicked imp…" he mock-glared.

…