Ned Stark Lives! Part 2

by cbstevp

What would have happened in Westeros if Ned Stark had lived? The story continues, taking us to the Wall, Slaver's Bay, and of course the war between Stannis and the Lannisters. But winter has come, the Others are at the Wall, and the feared long night of myth is about to engulf Westeros and maybe even the whole world.

25. Chapter 25 Tyrion

Ned Stark Lives! Part 2 Chapter 25 Tyrion

"What happened to the gaoler?" Cersei demanded. She was angry and her green eyes blazed as she glared at her youngest brother.

"He had a bad case of sword through bowels," Tyrion said from where he sat at his table in his solar as he sucked the meat off a chicken leg. He tossed the bone to the floor where a small pet dog he had recently acquired chewed on other bones noisily. Cersei's face was curdled in disgust and Tyrion knew it wasn't because of the dead gaoler, who she didn't give a care for. No, she was disgusted because Tyrion had at last moved into their father's old lavish quarters, bringing in his own special made furniture for a man of his short stature. Now he sat in his high chair in their father's old solar, a large table covered in a lavish meal Tyrion had ordered for himself and his old friend, at last returned to his side. Bronn was also chewing on roasted chicken and drinking wine, now dressed in better clothes than Tyrion had ever seen him in except on his wedding day.

But the clothes did not make him any less than the black-hearted cutthroat Bronn had always been. He had visited the gaoler shortly after Tyrion appraised him of what went on in his absence. Soon the goaler was dead, his gutted body turned upside down in the same barrel of water he had tortured Shae in. Now if only Tyrion could do the same to his sister and all his other enemies, he might be able to sleep better at night.

As the sellsword turned lord swallowed some chicken he let out a loud burp. "Pardon me," Bronn said and Tyrion laughed.

"Being a lord has at least taught you some manners."

"High society has had a bad affect on me," Bronn quipped.

Cersei grew more angry the more they ignored her. "I demand to know…"

Tyrion sharply interrupted her. "He tortured Shae! What did you think I was going to do? Let him live a long and healthy life? I sometimes think you know me not, dear sister."

"Oh, I know you, you little worm. I know you well enough." With that she stormed out of the room.

"I think she's mad," Bronn said after Cersei was gone.

"Yes, well, she's always mad these days. Especially with my brother so far away. And she might not even know about this dead gaoler if you had been more discrete and had gotten rid of the body."

"You said kill him so I killed him. What? You wanted me to take him to the battlements and push him off into the sea?"

"Ah. Now you are thinking. Yes, that would have been better. The next time do it that way."

"There will be a next time?"

"For certain. Once I get my hands on…Ah, yes, Pod. What is it?"

Podrick had entered the room and dipped his head. "Sandor Clegane to see you, my lord."

"Send him in."

Pod left and the Hound entered. He did not even say hello or bow his head or anything. He merely took his sword off, propped it against the table and sat and grabbed the flagon of wine. He poured a drink and gulped it and then glared at Tyrion.

"Where's my brother?"

"On his way according to the latest news. Should be here in a day or two."

The Hound grunted. "Good."

He put his cup down, stood, strapped on his sword. "Stay, have some more," Tyrion said.

"No," said the Hound curtly and he left.

Tyrion shrugged. "I've never known him to refuse a drink when not on duty."

"He's getting ready," Bronn said.

"To do what?"

"Kill his brother. Drink will weaken him. I bet he doesn't touch another drop until either him or the Mountain are dead."

"Who's the smart money on?"

"The Mountain, of course," Bronn said as he poured himself another cup full. "I told you that at Harrenhal and it still stands. Of course, the Hound has many good reasons to kill his brother if all the stories are true. That might just make a difference. And the odds on the Hound are better. The local bookmakers have gotten wind of the coming duel and are taking wagers already."

"Have gotten wind? How?"

"I told them."

"Gods. How much did you bet?"

"Ten thousand dragons on the Hound."

Tyrion sputtered the wine he was drinking. "Ten thousand! Do you even have that much?"

"No…but you do."

"I…what?"

"You will cover my bets for me, right?"

Tyrion sighed heavily. "Gods, Bronn. Did you spend all I gave you already?"

"Not just me. The wife and her family seemed to think what is mine is theirs as well. I also spent a bit on upkeep for the holdfast and on a new herd of sheep. I might just go into the wool business. So I'm a bit short these days."

"And you expect me to cover your bets? That is going a bit far."

"Tell me you don't have it and I'll forget it and cover it myself somehow. Course, if I can't cover it and I lose and the lads I placed the bet with come looking for me, a few more people might have to die."

Tyrion just shook his head in resignation. "Right. Ten thousand. I think I can scrounge that up somewhere. If you lose, we'll just add it to any future things you must do for me. And if you win, I get half."

Bronn shrugged. "Fair enough. The odds are now four to one on the Hound winning. So that would make forty thousand dragons. Twenty for you and twenty for me."

Tyrion shook his head. "No. We don't count the ten I am putting up to cover the bet. So, I get my ten back and you get fifteen and I get fifteen more."

Bronn grinned. "I see you've gambled before. So be it. Now we just have to make sure the Hound wins."

"How?"

"We cheat."

"I assumed that much. Again, I ask how?"

Bronn stood. "Leave that to me. Now I have a little wife waiting in my quarters who has need of a good fucking to keep her and me happy."

He turned to leave and Tyrion stopped him. "It's good to have you back. If only…" But he didn't finish the thought. Bronn knew what he was talking about anyway.

"If I had been here I'd be on the run or dead now and so would she. And you would be banished or some other foolish thing you highborns do to each other. Cause you know I would have done anything for you. So let's be glad I wasn't here and it all worked out."

"It didn't all work out," Tyrion said quietly. "Shae is not here."

"I can find where she is."

"I know where she is."

"Then visit her."

Tyrion shook his head. "I won't. Even if she would see me it would be too painful to leave her again."

"Then you are truly fucked, my friend."

"Yes. Truly."

Bronn seemed ready to leave again but he hesitated at the door. "You really do love her, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Bronn shrugged. "Just don't like to see you so…what's the word…morose?"

Tyrion laughed a bit. "Fancy words, good table manners, fine clothing, what has come over you Bronn?"

Bronn ignored the sally. "Might be time for you to try to forget her and meet someone new."

"She said the same thing the day they took her."

"Well, there you have it."

"Not yet. It's too soon. If ever."

Before Bronn could open his mouth Pod entered again. "There has been a rider, my lord. From the Tyrells he says. He's at the main gate and refuses to talk to anyone but you."

They immediately left the room and went to see this rider. He was waiting next to the guard house with a leather satchel in his hand. On his green surcoat was the golden rose sigil of the Tyrells. He immediately got down on one knee.

"Lord Tyrion, I bring a letter from Lord Mace Tyrell."

He opened the flap on his case and withdrew a thick letter, wrapped in green ribbon and sealed with gold wax. He handed the letter to Tyrion.

"Well, this is interesting," Tyrion said. "A letter from one of my enemies." The tone and words were calculated to get some more information from the rider but he did not offer any more.

"Lord Tyrell told me to wait for a reply, my lord," was all the rider said. Tyrion told Pod to find the man food and a place to rest.

Tyrion swiftly opened the letter and read while Bronn hovered nearby and the men on guard duty watched him, seemingly anxious to know what was going on. As Tyrion's face broke into a grin Bronn asked him what it was all about.

"Our friend has succeeded. Ser Loras and his sister are free and Mace Tyrell is now wanting to be our ally again. His men are advancing to lay siege to King's Landing as we speak."

"Really?" Bronn said with some skepticism in his tone. "Just like that? Has he made any demands?"

"Oh, yes," said Tyrion. "The fat flower wants his piece of the pie. Come, I must call on the King and my wretched sister to discuss this news."

They soon learned Cersei was dining with Tommen and Myrcella in Cersei's quarters. The Hound and Ser Preston stood outside the door.

"She doesn't want to see you, my lord," the Hound said, a bit more polite than he had been earlier.

"Tell her and the King I have a letter from Mace Tyrell."

The Hound did so and Tyrion was soon admitted to the quarters. Bronn, as usual, waited outside, despite being a lord now. Cersei and her children sat at her big table eating their supper of roasted quail and many side dishes. Ser Arys was already inside, standing directly behind the King's seat. The Hound entered as well, standing directly behind Tyrion. Not for the first time Tyrion thought the Kingsguard needed to add more members, but with his brother distracted by the war the positions left open by the three dead members had not yet been filled. For certain Ser Loras Tyrell would be offered a spot once the war ended. As for the others, Jaime had not yet suggested anyone.

Cersei gave Tyrion one of her usual glares, which he had learned to ignore years ago. "So…out with it. What does the traitorous flower want of the lion now?"

"Just this," Tyrion said as he handed her the letter. She read quickly as Tyrion spoke to his nephew and niece.

"How goes the war, Uncle?" Tommen asked him right away.

"Splendid, my King," Tyrion replied. "We shall soon have everything back in order and set the realm to rights."

"Is there good news?" Myrcella asked, her tone anxious.

"Yes. We may have some new allies."

Cersei had finished reading by then. "He can't be serious," she said as she put the letter down. She looked more angry than happy at the news, as Tyrion expected when she learned what the Tyrells wanted.

"Apparently," Tyrion answered her. He turned to Tommen. "My King, Lord Mace Tyrell's children have been freed from King's Landing, due in no small part to a plan I set in motion. Now…"

Cersei interrupted him. "I would like to hear more details of this plan."

"Yes, Uncle, tell us all about it," Tommen asked eagerly. He always liked stories of adventure and bravery, Tyrion knew.

Tyrion grinned. "Well, Your Grace, it was simply a matter of finding the right person for the job. I hired someone to infiltrate King's Landing and set them free. My man has completed this task and now the Tyrells are making demands of us as the price for joining our side in the war against Stannis the pretender."

"Hired someone?" Cersei asked in suspicion. "Who? What did you pay him"

She would not let it go. "It is of no consequence who, sister dear, nor how much it cost. It needed to be done and so I did what was necessary. The job is done, the man has been paid in the coin we still have plenty of, and he is now on another job for me."

"We must reward him in some way," Tommen said when Tyrion finished. Tyrion barely heard him as he looked at Cersei, who said nothing but had that look of suspicion he knew only too well.

Tyrion turned back to Tommen. "Your Grace, that is most kind. He would gladly accept any reward but now he is far away and still doing what he can for us to achieve victory. I assure you once the war is done I will reveal his name and you can find a suitable reward for him." Tyrion knew that would never happen. If Jaqen H'ghar was still alive he was most likely pursuing the red woman. And when that job was done he would disappear again. At least Tyrion hoped he would.

"Very well, Uncle," Tommen said. He turned to his mother. "What do the Tyrells want?" He sounds more like a true king every day, Tyrion thought. May the gods ensure he never finds out he is not a true king.

Cersei bristled. "Mace Tyrell wants a seat on the small council."

"I think that is of small importance," Tyrion advised. "He is a great lord, after all, and if he joins us we can almost be assured of victory."

"Yes," Tommen said. "We can give him a seat."

"That's not all," Cersei said swiftly. "He wants part of the Stormlands, including Storm's End."

"Isn't Storm's End ours?" Myrcella asked. "I mean, when Uncle Stannis is dead, it belongs to us, me and Tommen. We are the only Baratheon children, are we not?"

"No, you are not," Tyrion said right away, and he heard a small gasp from Cersei but he did not look at her for he knew she was assuming the worse, so he spoke swiftly. "Stannis has a daughter, Shireen, your cousin."

Myrcella nodded. "I forgot about her."

"As does everyone else," Cersei said, almost in relief, and Tyrion knew she had forgotten as well.

"Poor child is afflicted with greyscale," Tyrion reminded her. "But she is the heir to Stannis Baratheon."

Cersei stared at Tyrion. "She must be…dealt with, after the war is over."

Tyrion knew what she meant and knew she was right, despite the sickening feeling he got thinking of ordering someone to murder a child. "All in good time, sister. As for Storm's End and the Stormlands, I think we should remind Mace Tyrell that they belong to the heir of the Baratheon family, whoever that is when the war is over."

"Yes, by all means," said Cerise and Tommen agreed.

"Is that all he wants?" Tommen asked next

"No," Cersei said and now she looked uncomfortable. "He wants…he wants his daughter to be queen.

"Queen?" Myrcella said in surprise. "But Mother, you are the Queen."

"Queen Regent," Tyrion said quickly and Cersei's eyes flashed in anger for a brief moment but then she sighed.

"Yes," Cersei said. "I am Queen Regent. Lord Tyrell wants Tommen to marry his daughter Margaery."

Tommen blushed, his cheeks turning red. "No! I told you before I don't like girls! I will not get married!"

Tyrion laughed as Cersei grew angry again but calmed herself and put on her sweetest smile for Tommen. "There will be no marriage yet, my King. You are too young."

Tyrion agreed. "Yes, perhaps so. And Margaery is almost twice his age. Yet I think the fat flower wants some guarantees at this point. We did after all make overtures to have his daughter marry Joffrey. I don't see why we cannot make the same promises for Tommen. We did discuss this very matter not a moon's turn past, if you recall, sister."

"I certainly recall and I am still against it," Cersei said as she glared at him, all sweetness gone in an instant. "A seat on the council is bad enough. His daughter as a queen will make the fat flower and the rest of them insufferable."

"We may have to suffer them, sister, if we are to win the war."

"Jaime can defeat Stannis on his own," Cersei said confidently.

"He hasn't yet," Tyrion replied. The latest news spoke of a stalemate in front of the Golden Tooth. "We must act quickly or Lord Tyrell may find some way to stay neutral in all this mess now that the children are free."

Cersei sighed. "Then we have no choice?"

"No."

Tommen disagreed. "I won't get married!"

"It's not a marriage, Your Grace," said Tyrion. "Only an engagement. Once we announce it, we will be held to it, though, and when you are older you must marry her."

"Please, Uncle, Mother, I don't want to!"

"You will do what we say!" Cersei snapped at him and Tommen showed fear for a moment and then stared back at her, ready to start a fight. Tyrion quickly intervened.

"My King, some day you will wish to get married. Most men do, so…"

"You are not married, Uncle," Tommen shot back.

"I was, once," Tyrion admitted and Tommen and Myrcella both seemed surprised.

"Really?" Myrcella asked. "Who is she? Where is she?"

"Dead," said Cersei quickly. "She died many years ago, my children. It is a painful memory for Uncle Tyrion so we best not talk on it."

Myrcella seemed abashed. "Sorry, Uncle."

"Not at all, my Princess," Tyrion said, struggling to control his voice. "Like your mother says, she died a long time ago. Now as for you, my King, this engagement is necessary for us, to gain new allies and to defeat Stannis in the field of battle."

Tommen pouted but seemed calmer. "Very well. If I must. But I won't kiss her!"

Tyrion laughed again. "As you wish. You are the King after all. So I shall compose a letter saying that we agree to the terms, with the stipulations we have discussed."

"Tell him they must attack King's Landing at once," Cersei said.

"The letter says they are already advancing on the capital," Tyrion replied. "Mace Tyrell may have dawdled over receiving a reply from us, but Randyll Tarly and Ser Loras and the other commanders will insist on a swift attack to take King's Landing. I am betting Stannis' capital will soon be ours again."

Cersei nodded. "Good. Let them win a battle for their King to prove their loyalty again. As long as Mace Tyrell is not sitting on his large behind on Tommen's throne when he returns to King's Landing."

Tyrion chuckled. "I know he is a bit of a fool, but even Lord Tyrell is not that stupid. Tommen will soon be back on the Iron Throne, sister. Now, by your leave my King, I must prepare our reply."

"Yes, Uncle," Tommen said and as Tyrion and the Hound left he once more heard Tommen saying "I hate girls" and his mother admonishing him and Myrcella laughing in her pretty way.

Yes, most boys his age did not like girls much but soon he would learn to love them and then wish he could have one in his bed every night. As Tyrion thought on this he realized it had been weeks since he had a woman in his bed. He hadn't been so celibate since his journey to the Vale and back. Maybe it was time to find a woman again, if only to quell the fire in his loins. But as he came out of the room and saw Bronn showing Ser Preston some of his battle moves, all the memories of meeting Shae on the Green Fork for the first time came flooding back and the idea of another woman seemed distasteful.

"Lord Bronn, come, we have business to tend to," Tyrion said, leaving the Hound and Ser Preston behind. As Tyrion had spoken to his sister and her children Tyrion barely noticed the two Kingsguards men in the room. They had heard it all, knew all the secrets, and hadn't made a sound or said a word. Such a man had to be trusted with many such secrets. Who could they find to replace those who were dead? Tyrion began to appreciate more the difficult task his brother had.

The reply to Lord Tyrell was quickly prepared. The rider however, was passed out in bed so Tyrion left orders to let the rider sleep for the night. He would be no good to them if he was too exhausted to ride his horse with the return answer.

The next morning the rider left right after breakfast with an escort of twenty Lannister men plus a knight to represent the King in any other business. Tyrion also started preparing a follow up force to join the Tyrells at King's Landing. If the threat from the south was no longer present, then it was time to use the thousands of men he had nearby Lannisport. Cersei was still paranoid about the ironmen but by all reports they were at each others throats on their home islands and Admiral Lefford declared the sea empty of the Iron Fleet.

The day after the rider left, two thousand Lannister men at arms and cavalry left to join the Tyrell's at King's Landing. The news of the new alliance with the Tyrells swiftly spread and sept bells rang and there was much rejoicing in Lannisport. The next day at noon a raven came into Casterly Rock's rookery with more good news. Stannis was retreating from the Golden Tooth back towards Riverrun. With this news came a spell of bad weather and a chilly downpour soaked the whole region for most of the day.

Late that night as Tyrion was about to retire a knock came to his door. It was Bronn.

"The Mountain and some of his men rode through the gates a short time ago. He is on his way to see you."

Tyrion sighed. It was late but this needed to be dealt with. "Stay," he ordered Bronn and they sat in the solar and drank a cup of wine as they waited. A short time later the massive bulk of Ser Gregor Clegane entered the solar. He was wearing his thick heavy plate armor, and had his great sword strapped across his back. His hair dripped with rain and his armor was damp and looked a bit rusty in spots.

"I have returned as requested, my lord," Ser Gregor said in his deep booming voice.

"Very good," Tyrion said. "Please sit. Have some wine."

The Mountain took off his sword and left it by the door, then joined them and poured himself a cup. The chair he sat in sagged and barely held the weight of the man and his armor. Even sitting he towered over Bronn and made Tyrion seem like a small child in comparison.

"Report on the war," Tyrion said and for a while the Mountain told them all he knew of the war near the Golden Tooth. He had left before Stannis began to retreat and so this was news to him.

"He'll get trapped up in Riverrun," Ser Gregor said. "Then we'll have him where we want him."

"Yes, things are going our way," Tyrion said. "Now I suppose you want to know why I brought you back here."

"I go where I am ordered, my lord."

"Good. I have a job for you."

"As you command."

"Kill your brother."

The silence was long and Ser Gregor took his cup and drank and set it down before he spoke. "Where is he?"

"Here," Bronn said. "In the castle somewhere."

"Before I do this I want to know why."

"He is Cersei's dog now," Tyrion lied. "She is using him to threaten me and my friends. She almost toppled me from power and he stood beside her. We want him out of the way."

Ser Gregor grunted and sipped his wine. "And why do you think I will kill my own brother?"

"He hates you and has wanted to kill you for years," Tyrion said. "Tell me this is not true and we will forget the whole thing."

Ser Gregor grunted again. "It is true, as you well know. Your father and Robert kept us apart. Even you, the last time we were at Harrenhal. Now you want him dead?"

"Yes."

"Then kill him yourself," the Mountain said. "Or have your sellsword here do it for you."

"Lord sellsword now," Bronn told him with half a grin on.

"A lordship for him, is it?" the Mountain said in surprise. "Well, if he is a lord, I want the same when my brother is dead."

"You shall have it," Tyrion promised.

"Then it will be done."

"One thing," Tyrion added. "It must not be murder. If any of your pet followers try to kill your brother in his sleep I will hang the lot and throw you in a dungeon until you are old and blind. However, a challenge to single combat he will gladly accept I am sure. Then the rest is up to you."

Now the Mountain was staring at him, a mad gleam in his eye and Tyrion wondered if he had gone too far to threaten the man. Ser Gregor had a fearsome reputation, made worse by his evil temper. Rumors said he suffered terrible headaches and drank milk of the poppy like most men drank beer or wine, in amounts that would kill any ordinary man. But now the Mountain made no threats and seemed to force himself to remain calm. He stood, gulped the last of his wine and stared again at Tyrion. "I will be in the training yard tomorrow after breakfast. Tell Sandor where to find me."

With that he left and Tyrion wondered if had not just overplayed his hand.

Bronn, of course, saw the flaw in the plan right away. "You're fucked if the Mountain tells the Hound what you just said."

Tyrion shrugged. "Perhaps. So I will tell the Hound first. That way he can't suspect anything. And you must remember that Sandor Clegane asked for his brother and I have delivered him. The rest is up to him."

"No, up to me, if I want to collect on that bet."

"Still plan on cheating?"

"Aye."

"How?"

"Not to fret. It's all taken care of. You got that gold handy?"

"Yes, I always carry ten thousand dragons in my pocket," Tyrion said in his most sarcastic manner. "What's the rush?"

"Need to get that bet placed tonight if they plan on fighting on the morrow."

That took Tyrion by surprise. "But…it's just the first part, the challenge. Isn't it?"

Bronn laughed. "And what do you think is going to happen when the Hound lays eyes on his brother? He's not going to play by any rules. He's going to come out swinging and to hell with any challenges."

"Very well." Tyrion quickly took a piece of parchment and wrote a note for Bronn to give to the master of the vaults. "Ten thousand and no more. And don't tell anyone what it is for. Take Pod with you in case of trouble."

"Not to worry. The book makers all know who has my back so they will be nice and polite."

Tyrion handed him the note and soon Bronn was gone. For a while Tyrion brooded on the outcome of this encounter he had orchestrated. It mattered not who would win. All Tyrion had to lose was ten thousand in gold. But he strangely found himself hoping the Hound would win, and not just because of the money, which he had more than enough of anyway, despite the costs of the war. The more he dug into the finances of the his family, and the more he explored the treasury vaults, the more he realized that they had more money than he ever suspected they had. Wealth that had been gathering for centuries, no, thousands of years, sitting, protected from looters and robbers and invading armies in the Rock. He was sure his father knew how much it really was, and that's what gave him confidence in his dealings with the rest of the realm.

As Tyrion thought on the coming fight he looked down at the floor where his little dog was chewing on a bone, quiet the whole time Bronn and the Mountain had been here. Tyrion ruffled its fur and the dog growled in contentment. He hadn't name it yet and suddenly he had a funny thought.

"Yes, I shall call you Sandor," he said to the dog and then Tyrion ruffled its fur once more and he went to bed, alone once again.

The next morning Tyrion found the Hound standing guard outside of Myrcella's door. With Tyrion were five men of his own household guard.

"We need to talk Clegane," Tyrion said. "These men will take over the duty of guarding the Princess for now."

The Hound said nothing and after the men took position outside the Princess' quarters he followed Tyrion as they walked through the halls.

"Your brother is here," Tyrion said.

"I know," came the answer.

"Oh?" That took him by surprise.

The Hound snorted. "You think I do not have eyes of my own waiting for Gregor? He is a hard man not to notice. Many were talking of him this morning in the barracks at breakfast. Two of his men were there. They took one look at me and near shit their breeches and ran off. Fucking cowards. They have no stomach unless they are at Gregor's side."

"Indeed," Tyrion said. "A small part of my surprise is that you have not already tried to kill him."

"In good time. Gregor is here now. He will find me, and that will be it." The Hound said it without emotion and Tyrion could see in his scarred face that the Hound was already preparing for battle. Maybe even for his own death.

"I told him to kill you for me."

Now the Hound laughed loud and hard, his laughter echoing in the corridor and then his face grew serious again. "You little shit," he growled. "Playing both ends against each other, are you?"

"Yes."

"You're too smart for your own good sometimes."

"So I've been told."

"I kill him, I'm your man. He kills me, then I can no longer support your sister or anyone else against you. Gregor is already your loyal bannerman. So you win no matter what happens."

"You've got it all figured out."

"No, Imp. Not yet. I still don't know how to kill him."

That surprised Tyrion. "Good gods man! You've had years to think on it."

"Years, aye. But Gregor has only one weakness, his rage. And in battle that is an advantage for him."

"Perhaps. But maybe the gods will smile on you." Or Bronn will figure out a way to cheat. "Your brother said to tell you he will be in the training yard."

The Hound's face took on a grim cast and he breathed deeply. "Then it is time to settle this once and for all."

Bronn was right. The fight would be now and there would be no stopping it. It had been coming to this for years and now there would be an end. One way or another House Clegane would be short a member very soon.

The training yard was in an open area off one wing of the castle, on the side near the sea. It had a large dirt covered open space ringed by a low stone wall that had two gates. Above the low stonewall were three tiers of benches on two sides where spectators could watch the men training or enjoy the spectacle if some feat at arms were held. As Tyrion and the Hound entered the fighting arena Bronn was nearby leaning against the wall, with Pod standing near him, looking nervous as usual. Next to Pod was the Hound's big shield and Pod was holding a heavy canvas sack as well. Tyrion wondered if for a moment this was something Bronn had in mind for cheating.

In the middle of the arena stood the massive bulk of Ser Gregor Clegane, dressed in his thick plate armor, no surcoat at all, with his massive shield on his left arm emblazoned with the three black dogs on a field of yellow, the sigil of House Clegane. He did not have on his helmet, it being held nearby one of the men who followed Clegane.

There were seven of his followers, a motley lot, outfitted in different garb and with a variety of weapons on their bodies, swords, daggers, maces, and one even had a spear. Tyrion did not know their names or care for them at all. They were brigands and cutthroats, men used to violence and rape and taking what they wanted. They had hitched their wagon to the Mountain in hopes of plunder and women and during the war they had gotten plenty of both as they had terrorized the Riverlands under Lord Tywin's blessing.

"Those will be trouble," Tyrion said to Bronn, looking at the men with Ser Gregor.

Bronn looked up to the tiers of seat where Tyrion now saw ten men at arms carrying crossbows enter from an upper door and take position on both sides of the training ground. "All taken care of," Bronn said. "No one will interfere."

Tyrion was about to reply when the Hound bellowed. "GREGOR!"

The Mountain's back had been turned to them and he had not seen them enter but his men did and now they all laughed and pointed and the Mountain turned. "So, the pup…the pup…has come out to play…has he?"

The Mountain's words were slurred and he looked glassy eyed and his movements looked slow.

"Ser, what's the matter?" one of his men asked.

"Shut up!" the Mountain shouted as he swung his armored fist at the man and struck him in the face and sent him flying back where he landed on his back with a thud. Blood poured from his nose and mouth and he was out cold, if not dead. His companions carried him to the low stone wall and placed him on the lowest tier of benches.

The Mountain looked across the training arena at the Hound. "My brother wants to talk. So…so…Sandor…what now? What now?"

"Time to end it, Gregor," the Hound said in his low growl. "Time to pay you for all the hurt you did."

"Hurt I did? I kill who they tell me to kill, same as you. You are not different…little… brother." As he spook the Mountain slurred his word again.

Tyrion looked to Bronn who grinned and winked. What has he done?

"Too much wine for breakfast?" the Hound asked. "Or still drinking the milk of the poppy? Still have the headaches? Is that why you killed them? Did they bother you?"

"Killed who? So many I have lost count."

The Hound screamed at him and Tyrion shuddered at the noise. "YOU KNOW WHO! OUR SISTER! OUR FATHER!"

The Mountain laughed and the Hound growled and pulled out his sword. "TELL ME WHY BEFORE THIS ENDS!"

"She was in the way," the Mountain said, still slurring his words. "She fell down the stairs and cracked her head. I can't help it if she was clumsy. I barely touched her."

"Murderer," the Hound growled in a lower voice.

"You are no better," the Mountain retorted.

"And Father? Why kill Father?"

"Because he tried to kill me."

"LIES!"

"No, brother. He took me hunting. He…he knew what I am. A monster…just like you!"

"YOU MADE ME INTO A MONSTER!"

"You shouldn't take my things."

"LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT MY FACE! I WAS JUST A BOY!"

"We are not boys anymore, Sandor. Father…after our sister died I told him what I had done. For years he did nothing. But he was brooding on it. So he took me hunting…tried to stab me in the back…I hit him and he fell off his horse and broke his neck."

"Lies! All lies! You wanted the title, the land. You could not wait for him to die! You are a monster!"

"Then slay me, good ser! If you can," the Mountain said and he laughed and his men laughed with him. "Sandor always wanted to be a knight and now he pisses on us all. Slay the monster so…so all the pretty little girls will love you!" He staggered a bit and then shook his head and continued. "That's what you want, have always wanted! Which little tart has your heart now? Which little whore cannot bear to look at you as you steal secret looks at her?! I know your secrets, too, little brother! I know your secrets! And when you are dead I will find your whore and rape her and gut her just like I am going to gut you! Like I raped Elia of Dorne with her babe's blood still on my hands. Who is she? Where is your secret love now? Tell me her name before you die!"

"NEVER!" screamed the Hound and his face was contorted in rage. "Now we fight! TO THE DEATH!"

"HELMET!" screamed the Mountain at his men and his helmet was quickly handed to him.

The Hound looked lost for a moment and then Podrick opened his bag and took out the Hound's dog's head helmet and handed it to Sandor Clegane. He said not a word but swiftly put it on. Pod handed him his shield and helped him strap it to his left arm.

"You best get out of the way," Bronn said to Tyrion and without a warning he picked him up and shoved him up over the stone wall and onto the lowest tier of wooden benches.

Tyrion straightened his clothing as Bronn and Pod lifted themselves over the wall and joined him. On the other side of the field the Mountain's men were scrambling to get away as well and soon only the Hound and his brother remained in the training arena. Somehow word was spreading and more people were entered the benches from upper doorways connected to both side.

"This is going to turn into a spectacle," Tyrion said in worry.

"Aye," said Bronn. "Lots have money on this. I spread the word that they would be fighting soon."

Tyrion now wondered if he had made a mistake in all this. "What have you done to the Mountain?"

"Me?" Bronn said in mock surprise. "Nothing much. Except to tell the maesters that the Mountain requested their strongest batch of milk of the poppy, well fortified with dreamwine. The maester thought I was mad but he made the concoction after I told him who it was for. I personally delivered it this morning. You can see the results."

Indeed Tyrion did see the results. The Mountain seemed slow, and his steps faltered. He held his massive sword in just one hand, but it seemed to droop as if he had not the strength to hold it up.

As he was thinking this the two monstrously huge Clegane brothers circled each other, swords out, warily looking at each other. People began to fill the benches and cheering began. The ten men at arms with their crossbows were shouted at to sit down and they looked to Tyrion who motioned for them to sit on the lower bench where they could.

Just then came a shout as the Mountain lunged for the Hound but missed his mark. The Hound hit his brother's back on the return swing but he didn't even dent the thick plate armor.

"I think you are going to lose this bet," Tyrion commented quietly as Bronn handed him a skin of wine Pod took out of his bag.

"It's not over yet," the sellsword replied, his eyes never leaving the combatants.

Tyrion took a long drink out of the wineskin and then suddenly looked up as there came a clash of swords. The two brothers yelled and cursed at each other, their voices muffled by their helmets. They swung and parried, and the Mountain was slower than the Hound. Several times the Hound struck blows but again the thick plate armor protected Ser Gregor. Then in his anger the Hound left himself open and a blow hit the top of his helmet. Just a glancing blow, but he staggered and fell back and the Mountain's men cheered wildly as Ser Gregor advanced with more steady steps and slashed wildly at his brother. The Hound was pushed back to where the Mountain's men were sitting and as Ser Gregor swung and missed his sword cut across the top of the stone wall and slammed into his own man's side and near cut him in half. The man screamed and as the Mountain tried to pull out his sword he dragged the dying man's body into the arena. The Mountain shook him off his sword just as the Hound came back raining more blows the Mountain blocked with his sword and shield.

Now came more screams and cheers and suddenly Tyrion heard a harsh voice in his ear. "Stop this madness now!"

It was Cersei, no doubt attracted by the sounds, and thankfully the King or the Princess were not with her.

"It's too late, Cersei," Tyrion said. "I don't think anyone can stop them now."

She glared at him. "You could have! We need them both!"

"You wanted this as much as me, remember dear sister?" he said in a loud voice over the din. "You started this! You wanted the Hound on your side! You wanted them to fight. Now it is too late! Sit and watch or leave!"

She hesitated and then sat next to him, whispering fiercely in his right ear. "When this is over I will tell the King what you did. And Myrcella. She is quite fond of her dog."

But Tyrion barely heard her. In the arena the fight was reaching a climax. The Hound's shield was shattered by a blow and now his left arm hung limp at his side with the remains of the shield still attached.

"Bloody hell!" Bronn shouted. "His arm is broken!"

Tyrion could see he was right. The Hound staggered back as his brother advanced, ready for the kill. The Hound stepped too close to the dead body and slipped in the blood from the dead man at the same time Ser Gregor swung his sword. The Hound blocked it but he was off balance and went down with a clatter of armor. His sword fell from his hand as he hit the dead body.

Bronn groaned. "Ah, well. Can't expect to win all the time."

The arena went silent as the Mountain now stood over his brother with his massive sword ready to strike. He flung off his helmet and his face was covered in sweat and his hair was lank and damp. His eyes glared and looked down.

"You always were the weaker one, Sandor. Time to die." The Hound lay there and seemed resigned to his fate.

And then Tyrion knew what he had to do. He did not want the Hound to die. He stood up and shouted. "SANSA STARK!"

The Mountain hesitated and looked towards Tyrion. "What did you say?"

"SANSA STARK!' Tyrion shouted again. "That's her name! The one he loves!"

The Mountain laughed. "Then she will die as well!"

"No," growled the Hound as he ripped off his own helmet. "You will."

The distraction had given him the time he needed. He staggered to his knees, and had a mace in hand, a heavy club like weapon that the man who had died had been carrying. As he spoke the Hound forced himself up and swung the mace at his brother's head, swung it with his right arm extended as far as he could and mace crashed into the left side of Gregor Clegane's head just as his own sword came down and once more hit his brother, hitting his left shoulder and slicing through plate and chain mail and flesh to the bone. As the Hound screamed and his blood spurted his brother staggered back and the Hound ignored his own pain and wounds and swung the heavy mace once again, striking another blow. Blood and bone and brains spurted from the side of the Mountain's massive head and he fell with an enormous thud to the ground. The Hound leaped on top of his prone body and rained more blows on his face and skull as his brother's body twitched and spasmed.

"FOR MY SISTER!" the Hound yelled as he swung the mace and it made a sickening crunch. "FOR MY FATHER!" he yelled as once more he struck home, the flailing mace sending blood spraying in all directions. "FOR MEEEEE!" he yelled in an inhuman cry of pain and anguish as he killed his brother and smashed his face into nothing recognizably human. Then the Hound stood and staggered and he dropped the mace and collapsed to the ground.

The silence that had filled the arena as the spectators had watched now ended. A great cheer went up from many as at the same time a groan went up from many others and then it was pandemonium. The Mountain's men could not believe he was dead and two of them leaped the wall and went to his side. The last three still unhurt or dead leaped the wall as well and went right for Sandor Clegane and drew swords, revenge on their faces.

"BRONN!" Tyrion shouted and the sellsword leaped the wall with Pod at his side. At the same time the men at arms stood and drew on the men advancing on the Hound. They saw the threat and stopped a few feet from the Hound.

"Kill them," Tyrion ordered and the twang of ten crossbows firing at the same time filled the arena. Seven bolts struck home, three in one and two each in the other two and the looks on their faces as they were hit was pure astonishment, and then they fell withering in pain to the ground.

What Bronn did next was even more shocking. Without any orders he went to the two men standing over the Mountain's body. Without a word he cut them down and killed them before they could draw their weapons as people screamed in horror. Then Bronn advanced on the three wounded men.

Cersei was horrified. "STOP IT!" she yelled to Tyrion.

Tyrion knew why Bronn was doing it. "They will be our enemies if we don't kill them."

Cersei said nothing and Tyrion turned to Bronn and nodded. They begged for mercy but with swift swipes of his long fighting knife Bronn cut their throats and they spurted blood, twitched and died in the dirt. Then Bronn advanced on the one the Mountain had knocked unconscious, who was laying on the lower bench. As people scrambled out of the way Bronn cut his throat as well and then wiped his knife of the blood using the dead man's own breech's leg.

"Get the maesters," Tyrion shouted to one of the men at arms when it was all over and the man ran off to carry out Tyrion's order. Tyrion leaped down over the wall and came up to the Hound, who was sitting on his backside in the dirt, grasping his bleeding shoulder.

"How bad is it?" Tyrion asked him

"I will live," the Hound said through clenched teeth. "You fucking Imp! Why did you say that about her?"

"You'd be dead if I hadn't," Tyrion told him.

Then a maester was by the Hound's side. "That was quick." Tyrion said in surprise.

"Word has spread, my lord," said the maester, a young man, without too many links in his chain, one of several minor maesters at the Rock whose name Tyrion could never remember. "I believe the King knows as well, my lord."

The truth of this became clear when a cry went up from a girl's throat. "SANDOR!" shouted Myrcella as she ran up to the Hound, with Tommen, her mother, and Ser Arys and Ser Preston behind her.

"Get her out of here!" the Hound growled as the maester and Pod started to take off his armor.

Tyrion turned to Myrcella. "He will live. You best not be here, my Princess. There is too much you do not want to see."

Myrcella gave him a determined look. "I will stay with him. I am not afraid of blood."

"No, my Princess," the Hound said in pain. "Go…please."

Myrcella knelt next to him and clasped his armored hand. "I will not leave!" The Hound just sighed and nodded his head.

"Uncle?" King Tommen said and Tyrion turned to looked at him.

"Yes, my King?"

"Tell me what is going on here. Why are my men fighting each other?"

"Old feud, my King. Afraid I could not stop it."

"Mother says my father and grandfather stopped it for many years. Why couldn't you?"

"Because he didn't want to," said Cersei with a smirk on her face. "He wanted to see them fight."

Tyrion stared at her. "Careful sister. I seem to recall you were indifferent to the Clegane brother's feud."

"Indifferent, maybe," she shot back. "But not so stupid as to have a bloodbath in our own castle."

"It is done," Tyrion told her. "Let me take care of this mess and we can discuss it at length latter."

Meanwhile Tommen had turned a little sickly at the sight of so much blood. "Yes," Cersei said, seeing how her son looked now. "Take the King back to his rooms," she ordered Ser Arys and Ser Preston and they led him away. Cersei called to Myrcella. "Come, my daughter."

"No!" she said in a strong tone. "I will not leave him."

Cersei's face turned hard and Tyrion stepped in front if her before she could yell at Myrcella. "Cersei, leave it be," he said quietly, looking up at the crowd of people still looking down at the carnage on the training ground.

She got the hint and left in a huff, running after her son and his guards. Tyrion turned to Bronn. "Well, that was quite the show."

"You know why I did it."

"Yes. They would seek revenge some day, on the Hound or you or me even. And those seven were scum anyway. I am sure a few dead souls are thanking you now."

Tyrion looked up at the crowds still looking at them. "The show is over," he shouted. "Go about your business." Slowly they started to disperse.

Tyrion looked at Ser Gregor's body. His face was smashed in and his skull as well. "Shame," he said. "I wanted to send his head to Dorne."

"Send it anyway," Bronn advised. "Who else has a head so big? Soon the rumors of this fight will spread to the whole kingdom."

"Could be. Do we have anyone from Dorne in our service?"

Bronn thought for a moment. "Was a knight who was in Robert and Joffrey's service. Came with us from King's Landing. Swann, I think. He's Dornish."

"Yes, Ser Balon Swann," Tyrion said. Then he frowned. "Not Dornish, from the Stormlands, if i do correctly recall. But his family are bannermen to the Baratheons so he will do nicely. Find him if he is still nearby."

More men had arrived to help them as did four Silent Sisters. "Take what is left of his head and tar it," Tyrion ordered as the great bulk of the Mountain was dragged to a waiting cart outside the training arena.

Sandor Clegane's amour was off now and Tyrion saw the great rent in his left shoulder that still bled. The Hound looked pale and Myrcella was crying now. Two maesters were tending him, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Will he live?" Tyrion asked them.

"Bloody right I will live," the Hound said fiercely. One maester poured a cup of milk of the poppy and the Hound shook his head. "No. If I can feel the pain I know I am alive."

It took some time but the Hound's bleeding stopped and he was finally carted away to his sick bed with Myrcella with him the whole time. The other bodies were removed by the Silent Sisters and some men came to clean up the blood.

"I suppose I should go collect our winnings," Bronn said when only he and Pod and Tyrion were left.

"Keep it all," Tyrion told him in a dispirited tone. "I am sick to death of fighting and blood."

He walked away and knew where he wanted to go, who he wanted to talk to, but he couldn't see her, couldn't talk to her as she had taken a vow of silence for three years. Madness. It was all madness. He just wanted to go to his room and drink himself into a stupor but that was not to be. The King summoned him and he had to explain all about the Clegane brother's feud and why the Hound wanted to kill his brother. Cersei held her tongue through most of it and no doubt she knew if she was too harsh Tyrion would tell the real truth about their dealings with the Clegane brothers. After he was done Tommen agreed that they could not have been stopped and there was nothing to do about it now anyway.

The Hound lingered near death for a week. His lower left arm was broken and his left shoulder wound became corrupted and a fever set in. The maesters said he would die and the septon was called and the Hound through his fevered madness told him to go fuck himself and his seven gods. "Hell is the only place I will go," the Hound rasped and then he sank back into his fevered delirium. Myrcella stayed with him every day and read to him and helped the maesters and when his fever finally broke on the eight day and he began demanding food Tyrion knew he was out of danger.

Meanwhile news had come in from Riverrun. Jaime and Ser Kevan had laid siege to the place but were hemmed in by the rising waters of the nearby rivers and could not force an action. Then came a raven with even more dire news from the north.

"From Castle Black?" Tyrion said in surprise when the maester handed him the message. He had received one raven message from there almost a moon's turn ago, soon after Jaime and Kevan and the army had left. The letter had asked for men and arms for the Night's Watch in their fight with the wildlings and the Others. Tyrion had spent time at the Wall and knew what the men faced in the wildlings. But the Others? That was impossible? Wasn't it? He kept this tidbit of news to himself. As for the Wall, he had no men and arms to spare for them so they were on their own. The note had also said that Mormont was dead and when he read that Tyrion felt sad for he had liked the big gruff commander of the Night's Watch.

Bronn was in his solar when the new message from Castle Black arrived. Bronn was looking very pleased as he often was of late. The day after the Clegane brothers fight he had given Tyrion back his ten thousand gold and kept the remainder of the thirty thousand. "And I would be very grateful if the wife never finds out about my winnings," he had told Tyrion.

"You better make sure those book makers never find how you helped the Hound win."

"Helped him?" Bronn said in surprise. "That stuff barely slowed down the Mountain, the big brute. And if the fool had kept his helmet on he would have won. Did you see how close he came to winning? If anyone cheated you did, yelling out the Stark girl's name. What was that all about?"

"He loves her," Tyrion said quietly. "You recall what Myrcella said to him at Harrenhal in the cells?"

"Aye. So…the Hound and the little wolf girl? A perfect match."

Tyrion shook his head. "It will never happen. Even if she returned his affection. She is Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell. He is a murderous dog who fought for the Starks' enemies."

"Oh, well. Least some of his demons are at rest."

"If he lives."

And so he did live and now he was demanding to be let out of his sickbed so he could return to his duties but Tyrion ordered him to stay put until he was better and the Hound finally relented when Myrcella said the same.

As Tyrion thought on that conversation with Bronn he opened the new letter from Castle Black. It was written in a wobbly script, and was short and to the point.

The Wall has fallen. The Others are attacking in strength. Lord Commander Snow and Lord Stark are ordering a retreat to Winterfell. Warn the realm of this disaster. Prepare for the great battle to come. May the old gods and the new save us. Maester Aemon.

He read it aloud to Bronn and for once he thought he saw a hint of fear in the sellsword's face. "The Wall? Fallen? Bloody hell."

"You think it's true?" Tyrion asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Just wishful thinking on my part," Tyrion answered. "I was there, saw it, and cannot imagine how such a mass of ice and rock could fall."

"Big things fall," Bronn countered. "We saw a Mountain fall just last week."

"True," Tyrion said and then something puzzled him as he re-read the letter. "Lord Commander Snow? Who in blazes is…gods, it can't be. Jon Snow?"

"Who's that?"

"Ned's bastard."

"Oh, right. Wait. No, never heard of him."

"I am sure I have mentioned him. I met him at Winterfell and traveled to the Wall with him. Nice lad, bit of a chip on his shoulder, for being a bastard. And now he is Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?"

"Don't that lot vote for their own commander?"

"Quite so. It seems they have chosen Jon Snow. Lord Stark is there as well. This is very interesting."

"What is more interesting is what you plan on doing about all this."

Tyrion shrugged. "What can we do? We still have plenty of enemies here. We have nothing to spare for the North."

"You could make peace," Bronn suggested.

Tyrion grunted. "With Stannis? Never. He wants Tommen and Myrcella and the rest of the blond-haired green-eyed Lannister clan dead if you recall. No, we cannot make peace on those terms."

"Right," Bronn said. "So…how do we kill these Others?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Cause if you lot can't put aside your differences, before long these things will be at our doors. As for me, I don't plan on dying without taking a few with me."

Tyrion had no answer for him. Later, Tyrion delivered this news to Cersei and the King. Cersei, as expected, dismissed it out of hand as a Stark trick to try to get them to divide their forces.

"This is from the Night's Watch, not Lord Stark," Tyrion told her. "Maester Aemon would not lie about such a thing."

"If he wrote the letter," Cersei said with skepticism. "We have no men to spare anyways so this conversation is pointless."

She was right and Tyrion let it go. Two days later came good news for a change. A raven came from King's Landing. It was a short note written by Ser Loras.

The capital is ours, my King. The enemy has fled to Dragonstone. We await your return.

Great rejoicing followed this news and the next few days Tyrion spent in making plans for Tommen and the royal court to return to where they belonged. Then in the midst of this happiness a great cold descended on the land. Snow and ice came and soon the world was white and freezing. Winter had truly arrived in the Seven Kingdoms.

With the cold so harsh Tyrion advised that they should remain in Casterly Rock for the time being. To travel east to King's Landing was dangerous in such weather. In addition, the capital was still damaged from the previous fights, was low in supplies, and Stannis may even counter-attack. For once Cersei agreed with Tyrion and the move east was delayed until news came of what was happening at Riverrun.

Meanwhile Bronn had found Ser Balon Swann, who was one of the knights who had remained behind with the force guarding Lannisport. Tyrion met the knight and charged him with traveling to Dorne with the smashed in head of Gregor Clegane and letters from Tyrion asking for an alliance and a repeated offer of Myrcella as a bride for one of Prince Doran's sons. Swann agreed to carry out the task and set out with four companions by ship the next day, heading south towards warmer lands and hopefully success in his endeavor.

Tyrion was feeling proud of himself. Since he had become Hand of the King again he had secured the Tyrell alliance, he had set things in motion for an alliance with the Dornish, King's Landing had fallen, Stannis was trapped at Riverrun, and the Hound was truly his man now. After he recovered from his wounds he took up his duty as a Kingsguard man once more. One day he came to Tyrion's solar while he was busy writing letters

"Thank you, my lord," was all the Hound said.

The man looked thinner and his face and eyes looked clearer. His left arm was still in a sling. Tyrion had heard he had not touched a drop of wine since he had recovered. "You did all the hard work. Wine?" Tyrion asked and the Hound shook his head.

"No."

Tyrion nodded, and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose we should discuss our relationship now."

"I am still Kingsguard."

"Of course. But you will tell me anything Cersei does, who she meets, what she says to the King and Princess."

The Hound hesitated. Doing the things Tyrion asked of him would make him break his vows as a Kingsguard member. Finally he nodded. "As you wish."

"You will also look in on Shae from time to time. Make the old crones bring her to you so you can see she is well. She doesn't have to speak. Just make sure she is well."

"I can do that."

"Good. I have given you what you wanted. But there must be more. What shall it be, Clegane?"

"My brother is dead. That is what I wanted. Now…I don't know."

"Yes, I can see your problem. For so long you thought on only one thing. Now that it is over, what next?"

"I will live and die as a Kingsguards man."

"As you wish. What shall I do with your brother's lands? He had no children to inherit from him. His last wife is dead, is she not?"

"Yes. And I am Kingsguard. I cannot inherit, either."

"True. Do you have a cousin or an uncle or someone somewhere?"

"A cousin, my father's sister's daughter. Everything should go to her family."

"Fine, we shall have the appropriate titles drawn up and the land shall pass to her."

Tyrion returned to his letters and waited for the Hound to leave but he stood there still and Tyrion looked up. "Yes?"

"You received a letter, Bronn said. From Castle Black."

Tyrion sighed. "Yes, I did. What of it?"

"It said the Others broke through the Wall and Stark and the Watch were retreating to Winterfell."

"It did. We have no men to spare for the North, Clegane. We still have our war with Stannis. If these Others are real, Stark will have to deal with them on his own."

The Hound growled in his angry way and slammed his right fist on the table, startling Tyrion. "You stupid shit! Real? You know Ned Stark! He would not lie about such a thing!"

Tyrion got angry in return. "The letter was not from Stark but Maester Aemon!"

"Even worse! He's a maester! Why would he lie?"

"What do you want Clegane? To go charging off to the North to save her?"

That staggered him. "No…I…but you must do something!"

"What can I do? We have no men to spare!"

"Then end your fucking war before it is too late!"

With that the Hound turned and left the room, almost knocking Pod off his feet as he was trying to come in the room. And things had been going so well between me and him, Tyrion thought. What would the Hound do now? Later Tyrion heard he went into Lannisport, got roaring drunk and smashed up a pub, putting three watchmen into the maester's care before ten others managed to subdue him. Tyrion and Bronn came to the town gaol in the morning and found him in a cell by himself. It was a freezing cold day and Tyrion was not amused at having to leave his warm castle to take care of this.

"You're a disgrace, Clegane," Tyrion said to him through the bars. "This is the thanks I get for bringing your brother to you? I ought to tell Tommen to strip you of your Kingsguard duties and ship you to the Wall as punishment."

Clegane's face was a bit battered from the beating the watchmen had put on him. Tyrion was sure if the Hound hadn't been so drunk and had both arms in fine condition he would have smashed in a few more heads. The Hound laughed and it was harsh and cold. "The Wall no longer exists, you fucking Imp! Send me to the North then. I have nothing to live for here anyways. Let me die in the snow and cold."

"He's had it," said Bronn with a shake of his head. "You want him guarding the King and Princess?"

"I know not," said Tyrion. "I must think on this." He turned to the gaoler. "Release him."

After the Hound was released and Tyrion paid his fines and for the damages to the pub, the three men walked toward the Rock in silence. They made a strange group as they walked through the snowy streets of Lannisport. The big Hound towered over Bronn and Bronn towered over Tyrion as he struggled to waddle next to the big men as they took long strides.

Finally Tyrion broke the silence. "I need a promise from you Clegane. This is the last time I take you out of gaol. You want to drink? You do it in the Rock. You want to fight? Do it with a blunted sword in the training ground. You want a woman? I'll pay for your whores."

Clegane remained silent and then as they neared the Lion's Mouth he stopped and Tyrion and Bronn stopped as well.

"Say nothing to the Princess of this," the Hound rasped. "I am done with drink. I will do my duty."

"Very well," Tyrion said in relief. "I…wait, what's that?"

From the road leading down from the east towards the Golden Tooth and Riverrun came a column of men on horseback. "Lord Tyrion!" shouted the leader as he hopped off his horse and went down on one knee. "I bring news and a prisoner."

"What news?" Tyrion asked first. The man rose and seemed excited.

"Stannis Baratheon is retreating to the north. He has abandoned Riverrun!"

"So Riverrun is ours?" Bronn asked.

"Ah, no…my lord," the man said. "We still lay siege to it. The Blackfish is in command there."

"Where is Lord Tully?" Tyrion asked.

"Here," said a voice and behind the first man another was getting off his horse. To Tyrion's astonishment it was Edmure Tully. Tyrion had first met him in King's Landing years ago, and mostly recently in Riverrun when Tyrion had negotiated the peace with Ned Stark. Now Edmure looked travel worn, his face haggard and his clothing stained. But he stood tall and straight and showed no fear and spoke in a clear voice. "I am the prisoner, Lord Tyrion. I also bring a message from King Stannis." He held out a rolled up sealed parchment.

"Indeed," Tyrion said as he took the scroll. His name was written in black ink just below Stannis' seal. "Come, let us get out of the cold."

"A moment, my lord," said the leader of the Lannister men. "A message from your brother." Tyrion took the letter but he did not open it yet. He gave orders to Bronn to take care of the arriving men and he and Lord Tully and the Hound entered the Rock.

"Stay with me, Clegane," Tyrion ordered and the Hound did so as they went to Tyrion's solar. Pod was inside cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

"Pod, wine and food for Lord Tully and prepare suitable chambers and clothing for him."

"Yes, my lord," Pod said and he dashed off. Tyrion sat and Edmure sat opposite him while the Hound stood by the door. Tyrion opened the letter from Stannis. He read it swiftly, his surprise growing with each line and then he looked up at Edmure. "Is he serious?"

"Always," Edmure said. "But I was not privy to his message. May I know its contents?"

"Let's skip all the introductions and get to the gist," Tyrion said and then he began to read aloud. "The Wall has fallen and the Others walk the world again. This danger can no longer be ignored. We must end our fighting or all of us will be defeated. I am offering an alliance until the danger has passed. We will defeat the Others and then our own dispute can continue if necessary. I suggest that all the men of the South rush to Moat Cailin to block the Neck and prevent the Others from coming south. As a sign of my willingness to be agreeable I will make one concession. When I sit the Iron Throne again your sister and her children may go in exile across the Narrow Sea where I will not pursue them. With the wealth of your family they will live in comfort for their remaining days. You will remain Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Make a quick decision, Lord Tyrion. Time is running out.'"

Tyrion looked at Edmure as Edmure cleared his throat. "So…so, he is offering an alliance," Edmure said. "What do you think?"

"Think?" Tyrion snorted. "I think he is quite mad if he thinks Cersei will agree to any of this. Besides, we are winning the war. And what proof do we have that the Wall has really fallen?"

The Hound growled but said nothing. Edmure glanced back at him and then took out another letter from a pocket. "I have another letter from my sister at Winterfell explaining more of it."

He handed it to Tyrion and he read this as well, and it was more of the same, but with more details. His mind whirled as he took it all in. The Wall collapsed, the Watch in tatters, retreating in the snow, Lord Stark and his son Robb missing, hundreds, maybe thousands dead, the wildlings south of the Wall, the Others hard on their heels, maybe even at Winterfell now. And now Stannis was marching north to face them, and asking for a truce.

Pod arrived at that moment with wine and food and set the tray on the table and poured the wine. Edmure took up his cup and drank and also ate some bread and meat and cheese. Tyrion brooded on the letters.

"Yes, well, I must take all this up with the King and the small council. What had Jaime to say on all this?"

Edmure's face blanched. "My lord…I…do you not know?"

Tyrion suddenly felt his heart flutter. "Know…know what?"

"Ser Jaime was badly wounded fighting my uncle during Stannis' retreat."

Tyrion gulped and gripped the edge of the table. "Is he…dead?"

"No…not when I left."

Then Tyrion remembered the other letter. He swiftly opened it. It was not in Jaime's handwriting.

Dearest Brother, a maester at the Golden Tooth is writing this as I am quite incapable. I suffered a wound to my right arm and now I am in a sick bed with the rest of the invalids. Not to worry, it will be better in a few days and I will be back to the war. Stannis is retreating so something good has come from all this. I will see you in King's Landing when the war is over. Give my best to our sister and her family.

"It doesn't sound so bad," Tyrion said and again Edmure's face blanched. "Does it?" Tyrion asked him.

Edmure sighed. "I spoke to the maester at the Golden Tooth. He said…he said…," but Edmure could not finish.

"Tell me!" Tyrion demanded.

Edmure took a drink and then spoke, his voice quiet. "He said your brother's lower arm was full of corruption. When I left they were preparing to cut off Ser Jaime's right arm."