14) Relaying the news. (Tyrion)

"Who does he think he is!?" King Joffrey was raging. "Traitors! The lot of them" the young King continued, spittle shooting from his lips. "They should all hang! Starting with the escort that brought my grandfather back. We should chop their heads! Just like we did Ned Stark!"

If he keeps this up he's going to burst an artery, thought Tyrion. Joffrey was frothing at the mouth as Tywin Lannister relayed every detail of the terms Robb Stark had sent him. He had never felt sorrier for his father. Here he was with a bandage on his injured hand, admitting defeat to a Courtroom full of people who looked at him with nothing but disdain. Poor father! Look at him. He looks so broken. Tywin Lannister had never suffered such a devastating blow; not only had he lost the battle, but Robb Stark had humiliated him, maimed him and butchered all his men. His own Rains of Castamere.

"King in the North! He's taking my Kingdom! We should send more men! We will send every men from the Reach and Dorne and crush them! Every men in the Crownlands and Casterly Rock will be forced to march!"

"That would not be wise, Your Grace. Our army has been dealt an almost fatal blow and we do not have many able fighting men left. We need some men to tend to the animals, the farms, the forgeries" Uncle Kevan started but was quickly interrupted by Joffrey.

"How dare you contradict me Uncle? I don't see you holding a sword! You should all go too, you pack of cravens!" he addressed the people in the Hall. "You all stand there and say you are loyal to me, but none of you is grabbing a sword and telling me how you are going to march north and beat Robb Stark. He has taken MY kingdom, MY lands. He has taken The North, The Eyrie and the Riverlands! They are MINE by right!" Joffrey's eyes were unfocused and he kept flailing his arms about as he yelled. The Mad King come again? May the Gods save us.

"My grandfather is an old fool, but what about your brother?" he turned to his wife Margaery now. "You keep saying you love me, yet you won't lift a finger to help me. Send your brother, send your men!"

"Your Grace, my brother is …" she started only to be cut short by Joffrey again.

"A craven. A craven and a fool. Like everybody else. Robb Stark in no more than a scared baby hiding behind his mother's skirts!" And what are you? Tyrion wondered as Joffrey kept rambling. "And you grandfather!?" he turned to Tywin again. "I thought you were a good commander! All these tales of your strategic mind and your bravery are just lies! I should send you to the Black Cells!"

Oh, somebody please gag this fool! Dreamwine, Maester, bring the dreamwine. Better yet, just bring some poison. Whoa! Stop there Tyrion. Did you just think about killing your own nephew! Bad Tyrion … Still, murderous desires notwithstanding, this madness has got to stop.

"Your Grace, with all due respect, why don't we continue this discussion in the Small Council?" Tyrion suggested.

"I believe he is right Joffrey" Cersei added. This must be serious if my sister is supporting me.

"Alright. Out! All of you! Out!" the King ordered. "Margaery, Mother, Tyrion, Uncle Kevan, Grandfather, you shall stay. The rest of you out! Now!"

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Not quite the Small Council but it will do. Anything is better than the sorry spectacle we were giving.

"Your Grace, if you will please allow me" Uncle Kevan started and was visibly relieved when Joffrey nodded. "We had a good plan, but it failed. The wedding at the Twins, had it succeeded, would have allowed us to deal a serious blow to our opponents without a single drop of our blood being shed. It was a great strategy orchestrated by my brother." Good going Kevan, my father needs to save face. "Unfortunately it failed and our rivals were able to amass a big army and beat us at Harrenhal. Would that things were different Your Grace."

"We don't need the North" Cersei continued. "It's just a barren piece of useless ice. And their people are just as inhospitable"

"The Eyrie is almost inaccessible, a mountainous region not good for farming or anything of use" Tyrion continued. "And the people there, not a big loss either. Believe me, I know them. Well, with the exception of Mord, maybe" he chuckled to himself remembering the slow-witted giant who had guarded him in the sky cells. "Never mind" he muttered when nobody followed his train of thought.

"And the Riverlands" his father spoke for the first time since relaying Robb's harsh terms to Joffrey. "Right now there is nothing there of value. It is a war ravaged land. The farms have burnt, the crops have rotted, the rivers are soiled with blood and waste, there are dead bodies strewn on the side of the roads. Maintaining the Riverlands would me more costly than the benefit you would reap."

"I say let the Tullys keep it and sort it out. Lord Edmure is not the sharpest tool in the shed, when he looks the other way we can always go back and re-take it." Kevan added.

"So you think I should just let the Stark boy have half my Kingdom?" Joffrey asked, his anxiety and restlessness apparently waning.

"Yes, Your Grace" said Tyrion

"Yes, Your Grace" echoed Kevan. "For now, at least" he added.

"Yes, my love" said Margaery.

Come on, keep them coming. Come on Cersei, your turn now, Tyrion silently urged them.

"I concur" added Tywin. Thank you Father, but I don't think he values your opinion too much now. "We can always take it back when they're not expecting it"

"I also believe they are right, my son." Yes! He has to listen to us now. Come on Joffrey! Do something wise for a change.

"Alright" Joffrey said after a long silence which had everybody fidgeting and turning in their seats. "We will meet Robb Stark's terms, but we will not admit defeat."

Of course, my dear nephew. This is not a defeat. Just because they annihilated the biggest part of our army, cut off your grandfather's fingers and sent him to us with his tail between his legs, and then they stole half your kingdom from right under our noses. Not to mention how they killed your uncle Jamie (father?). Of course it's not a defeat, it's a mere trivial setback. Tyrion snorted to himself.

"Wise words Your Grace" he told his nephew instead.

Joffrey retired to his chambers with his wife and only Cersei, Kevan, Tywin and himself remained.

"Well, That went well" Tyrion commented flippantly. "Wine anyone?"

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Tyrion wanted to make sure the surrender, oh, scratch that, this is not surrendering according to my wise nephew, and the meeting of terms went without a hitch, so he met with the Northern men himself. There were many things they needed to sort out. The first order of business was to make the separation of the Kingdom official. With his father being incapacitated, Tyrion had been temporarily named Hand of the King, and it was in such capacity that he took it upon himself to draft the terms of their surrender. Nope, scratch that: we did not surrender, his nephew's shrill voice came to him and he couldn't help but chuckle mirthlessly. The border between the Southern Kingdom and the North would be that of the Riverlands as it met with the Westerlands, The Reach and the Dragonlands. An exchange of prisoners was also agreed. The Northern party that had brought Tywin Lannister back from Harrenhal would leave alone. But in two moon's turn they would meet again at Stony Sept and exchange prisoners and hostages from both sides. Tyrion asked for Jamie Lannister's bones to be returned, as well.

"There's something else" he told them. "I want you to give Robb Stark a gift from me, an apology of sorts. Tell him to use it wisely." As SmallJon Umber opened the bundle Tyrion had given him, his eyes went wide and he nodded in appreciation and gratitude.

"My Lords," Tyrion addressed the Northern men before they parted ways. "Apparently this Game of Thrones is coming to an end. I can't say it's been a pleasure, but tell Robb Stark he has been a worthy adversary. I hope … Nevermind. Have a safe journey home. Enjoy your Kingdom" he waved.

There were many things he hoped for. He had meant to ask about Sansa and her wellbeing. He wanted to make sure Lady Stark knew he had had nothing to do with her son's assassination attempt and her husband's death. He really respected Robb Stark and wished him all the luck – so long as they never had to cross paths again. But this was not the right time to say these things, nor were these gruff men the appropriate messengers.

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Well, the war is almost over. We're getting close to the end.

Thanks for reading :)