Tyrion desperately wanted some wine. Mytus had been adamant that he only drink water whilst the antidote took effect, in order to keep fluids in his body. For the first few days, Tyrion had been too ill to care; but now he was recovered enough to eat, he felt dissatisfied with nothing but water to accompany his meals.

The days immediately after the fateful dinner had passed in a blur. He was sure that by now, he must owe Podrick a wardenship for all the lad had suffered ministering to him. Once Tyrion's head had stopped spinning, he asked Podrick to fetch Varys for him. The eunuch came to him with his usual enigmatic smile.

"I am glad to see you are so recovered, Lord Tyrion – it appears you are very hard to kill."

"Do you know who was trying to this time, Spider?"

"Now, that is quite a tale. Directly after the King's death was announced, all the talk was of a mass poisoning of the Lannisters. More than one of my little birds reported that Oberyn Martell had been seen walking through the tower of the Hand by himself earlier in the day. Of course, all know the Red Viper's reputation when it comes to poison. Yesterday, your sister was sufficiently recovered to send two members of the Kingsguard to arrest Loras and Margaery Tyrell."

It was the news Tyrion had dreaded the most. He could not say what would be worse: Margaery being falsely accused and punished, or her actually having complicity in the plot, which had resulted in his own life being placed in danger. He kept his voice as neutral as he could:

"On what grounds did my sister order their arrest?"

"On the grounds that she is Queen and can do as she likes. It would appear there was no reason to suspect them of anything. Lord Tywin came personally to their chambers to prevent the arrest. There has been no further mention of poison since. Pycelle is examining the remains of what was eaten and drunk."

Tyrion nodded, taking in the information. At least, it seemed that Margaery was safe. If his father had acted so swiftly to prevent her and Loras from being removed to the black cells, he must be fairly confident the Tyrells were not to blame. He looked at Varys sharply.

"What did you know about this Spider? The day of that dinner, you told me to watch how much I drank."

"And so you should, my lord, on most, if not all, days. I do not know the truth of what went on: sometimes things are better left unknown."

Varys bowed and left.

Tyrion sat in his chambers and digested the eunuch's words . He wondered if Pycelle would try to frame him for Joff's death; he still had a score to settle with Tyrion for the time he had spent in the cells whilst Tyrion was Hand. He pondered what Varys had said about Oberyn Martell, remembering that the Dornishman had told him he had an audience with Tywin that day. While Tyrion was sure there were a number of people who would have taken Joff's life without regret, he was not sure the Red Viper was one of them. He had the impression Oberyn focused on those who had wronged him directly. Of course, this presupposes Joff was the intended target.

Tyrion did not, even for a second, mourn his nephew's demise, but he felt pity for Tommen because of the heavy burden which would now fall on his shoulders. Still, he will have a strong queen by his side. Tyrion was glad at least that Margaery would be free from Joffrey's evil clutches. True, Tommen was only a boy, and young for his years, but he was kind and would care for her. Perhaps, he would grow to be as handsome as his father…Tyrion wondered if he could persuade Tywin to send him to Casterly Rock, after all. Margaery would have no need of his protection now, and he felt sure he could not bear to see her every day, knowing that she would never be his.

"I've brought you some food, Lord Tyrion."

"Then, be a good fellow, and bring me some wine to go with it, Pod- that's an order."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows when the youth looked as if he was going to protest. Pod paused for a moment, but did as Tyrion had asked. Tyrion took a deep drink and sighed appreciatively. It was only then that he realised his squire was still hovering.

"Your father sent word, my lord: there is a small council meeting later."

"Is there indeed? Was that it – no tender inquiry for my welfare? No vehement thanks for my continued safety?"

Pod did not reply. In truth, Tyrion was amenable to a meeting with his father: it was his best chance of getting some answers to his questions. He felt less enthusiastic when he pondered the likelihood of Cersei also being present. She must truly hate the Tyrells, if she was ready to accuse them before me. However, Tyrion was in no doubt that with Margaery and Loras removed as a target, it would not be long before Cersei had him in her sights. He felt a fleeting pang of guilt: he knew that she would be suffering, for whatever else Cersei was, she did love her children. Then, he remembered she had already tried to kill him once, and his heart hardened.

When Tyrion entered the Small Council chamber, Pycelle, Varys, and Oberyn were already present. The Dornishman rose, walked to him, and clapped him on the back.

"Good to see you, my little friend! And looking hale and hearty, thank the Gods!"

Tyrion noted Pycelle's sour expression during the Red Viper's exclamations, and derived some small satisfaction from the Grand Maester's displeasure. Before he could respond to Oberyn, Tywin Lannister strode in and took his seat at the head of the table.

"As we are all here, I shall begin. The first matter we need to discuss is the acknowledgment of King Tommen as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. This evening, all nobles present will come to the throne room to swear fealty to him. The others will send their acknowledgement and swear fealty when the time comes. Prince Oberyn, I assume you are in a position to represent your brother in this matter."

The Dornishman inclined his head, a smile playing on his lips.

"Your assumption is correct, my lord. Of course, were we following Dornish law, King Joffrey would be succeeded by his sister Myrcella, and my nephew would be crowned king when they married."

Tyrion watched as his father and the Red Viper locked eyes. He had no doubt that Oberyn had made the statement purely to rile Tywin up, and this further convinced him that the Dornishman had played no part in Joffrey's death. He may be bold, but he is not a fool. After a moment, Tywin spoke in a neutral tone:

"This is not Dorne."

Oberyn's smile widened.

"No, it is not."

Tywin continued, as if nothing had happened.

"King Joffrey's funeral will take place two days hence; the coronation of King Tommen the day after."

"And will the king's mother be present at either of these events? I am surprised she is not here today."

The Red Viper spoke once more, voicing Tyrion's own thoughts. Tywin's face betrayed nothing.

"My daughter is no longer regent, therefore she has no place on this council. In addition, she is deranged with grief and is currently confined to her chambers. She will be at her son's funeral but will require a considerable escort."

Tyrion took in the meaning of his father's words. Cersei was not to be trusted after her attempt to arrest Loras and Margaery. At least, it seemed she would not be in a position to try and incriminate him in his nephew's death. He looked to his father.

"So, who is to be Tommen's regent if my sister is not reprising the role?"

"King Tommen has named me his regent." Tywin replied, doubtlessly surprising no one in the room. Come now, father, regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Jaime at Casterley Rock with a babe in his wife's belly, what will it take to make you smile?

Pycelle had begun some fawning speech about the wisdom of the choice, when Tywin cut him off and asked that he inform the council of his conclusions concerning the cause of Joffrey's death. In his self-important and pedantic way, the Grand Maester indicated that he had examined the King's body, as well as the remains of the food and wine consumed by all those at the dinner table.

"There were no detectable traces of any poison. However, when I examined the remains of the soup, I found evidence of some spoiling. Having further discussed this with the kitchens, I would conclude that some meat, which should have been disposed of, was used in the soup stock in error. I can only assume this was due to the increased pressure on kitchen staff due to court having been full so near to the royal wedding. All those who dined with the king that night suffered some ill effects, it was simply that King Joffrey had a peculiar sensitivity."

Oh yes, Joffrey was always peculiar. Tyrion noted the sceptical expression on Varys' face, before being startled by the sound of a thump on the table: all turned to Prince Oberyn, who was glaring at Tywin.

"If the cause was bad meat, why was it necessary to search the apartments of myself and Ellaria?" Tywin made no move to apologise:

"Precautions were necessary until we had ascertained the cause of death: you are well known for your expertise in poisons, my prince, and, of course, you had nothing to hide."

The Red Viper remained silent, but his eyes blazed.

"This concludes the business of the meeting. Tyrion, you will remain."

The other three left, and Tyrion was alone with his father. He looked around ostentatiously for a jug of wine.

"Have we nothing to drink, father?"

"I thought at our last dinner you had lost the taste for it." Tywin's voice was steely.

"As did I, father; clearly, it was simply the spoilt meat in the soup."

"Tyrion, can you tell me why you informed the Tyrells that Cersei was plotting with the Florents?"

He felt as if the ground had been pulled from under him. He arranged his features into an expression of innocent confusion.

"Cersei has been plotting with the Florents? But I was under the impression they were allies of Stannis Baratheon. Well, she won't endear herself to her new in-laws with that sort of behaviour."

"Do not play the fool with me. I see that, once again, you have put your own petty squabbles and grasping nature before your loyalty to your house."

"And where would our house have been, had she succeeded in murdering Loras Tyrell?"

Too late Tyrion realised he had admitted his guilt. Tywin eyed him with contempt.

"You will not fail me again. Loras Tyrell is to be sworn to the Kingsguard, following Tommen's coronation. Margaery will be the heir to Highgarden, and you will marry her."

Tyrion thought for a a moment he must have misheard. His father's face wore its usual grim expression and he appeared unmoved by the incredulity which was evident on his younger son's countenance. After a moment he had gathered his wits enough to ask:

"What of Tommen? Surely, the Tyrells will expect him to be offered as a replacement for Joffrey?"

"Tommen is a child. If he was to marry anyone, we would have to obtain permission from the High Septon. I discussed the matter with Lord Mace and his mother this morning. They appreciate that any petition could be subject to lengthy delays and may be refused. In addition to this, his grace will not be in a position to consummate a marriage for some years. Tommen's first-born son will be heir to the throne, and his second Lord of the Stormlands. The Reach would be left in a precarious position for some years, were Margaery to marry Tommen. They are in favour of this match."

Tyrion looked at his father, his mind working fevershly. He was fully aware that any petition to the High Septon would be a formality for Tywin Lannister, unless, of course, the Hand wished it to be a long drawn out process. Furthermore, the issue of a male heir seemed something of a moot point; with the backing of the crown, the Tyrells' position in the Reach was unlikely to be challenged, and although Margaery was older than Tommen, she was not yet twenty and would have many years to bear children. No, the more he thought about it, the more the explanation became obvious - Joffrey's death had been the result of a Tyrell plot. He had no doubt this was why Loras was being called to the Kingsguard. The loss of their heir and the acceptance of a Lannister in Highgarden was likely the price for their heads.

He could have voiced countless objections, but he remembered what he had told Jaime when he and Sansa had been betrothed: you will marry her, because Tywin Lannister wills it. Of course, Jaime and Sansa were now happy. But he was not Jaime. He nodded to his father.

"Very well, I shall await your further instructions on the matter." Then, he scrambled from his seat and left.

On returning to his chambers, Tyrion had summoned Podrick, Bronn, and a number of flagons of wine. As he drank, he became increasingly morose regarding his situation. Bronn eyed him unsympathetically.

"I would love to know how on earth you're managing to feel miserable about this! That girl has been after you for months! Don't forget I saw the pair of you at yer brother's wedding. Not only that, you'll be Lord of the Reach! And on top of that, she's a beauty, and, unlike most of these highborn maids, she looks as if she knows how to wear a man out in the sack."
"Bronn! Do not speak that way about my – "

Tyrion paused. He could not bring himself to call her 'his betrothed'. How could his father have found yet another way to hurt and punish him, simply for being born?

Bronn threw him another unimpressed glance.

"Well I ain't about to sit around here, sympathising with you about how awful it is that you're getting to marry the richest heiress in the Seven Kingdoms. I only hope you'll find time in between all the fucking to remember your friends."

The sellsword stood and made his way to the door. Podrick also rose to his feet and began to clear the goblets from the table. He stood by Tyrion for a second and several times seemed about to speak.

"What is it, Podrick?"

"Well, my Lord, it's just that her handmaiden, umm… That is, Lady Margery's handmaiden, well, she told me the lady often speaks of you – Lady Margaery, that is – and thinks highly of you. You're a good man, Lord Tyrion, you deserve to be happy."

Podrick was bright red by the end of this short speech, and Tyrion was incredibly moved. He grasped the boy's arm.

"Podrick Payne, there never was a more noble squire."

Podrick blushed even deeper, turning almost purple. He clumsily continued to clear the table.

Tyrion looked down into his own goblet. At first, he had been convinced that Margaery herself must have been party to the plot. He imagined, with grim masochism, her complete disregard for himself and that he, too, may have died. I'm just a funny little man. I've never mattered that much to anyone, really. Not enough for them to care what happens to me. This train of thought gave him pause. He thought of how Jaime had ensured he received proper treatment after the Battle of Blackwater, despite incurring the disapproval of Tywin and the wrath of Cersei. He thought about the estrangement between his siblings, which, he knew, had been just as much about Cersei's attempt to kill him as it had been her infidelity. His mind turned to Sansa, who had told him she was proud to call him her brother and who had forgiven him for participating in the deception about Joffrey's true parentage. He believed that he did matter to Jaime and Sansa, and, if he could believe that, could he not believe that Margaery at least thought enough about him not to place him in harm's way? The more he reflected on this, the more likely it seemed that Olenna had acted without her granddaughter's knowledge. This eased his anguish somewhat. After all, there were not many people whom he would have placed in the Stranger's path, but that did not mean he wished to marry them all. There is but one woman I would take to wife... Gods, what a jape this is!

He thought of Jaime and wondered what his brother would tell him if he were here. He smiled as he reflected that there was no doubt what Sansa would have had to say on the matter. He thought of his disastrous first marriage, his ever-present doubts regarding Shae. She had told him he was scared, and she had been right. Now, he was more scared still. At least with Shae, he knew he could provide for her materially, give her things she would have been unlikely to gain elsewhere. With Margaery, he had absolutely nothing to offer, but himself, and he doubted this was a sufficiently high prize for her.

He was aware that, from a logical point of view, he should simply be happy with the situation he found himself in. Earlier that day, he had despaired at the thought that Margaery would wed Tommen; now, she was to be his bride. Even if he had not been in love with her, the fact that this marriage also brought him Highgarden should have been enough in itself to satisfy him. But he was in love with her, and he felt keenly that he only wanted to marry her if she loved him, too. The idea of her entering into their union with reluctance and under duress was abhorrent to him. He sighed and swallowed the last of his wine. He would be able to discuss the matter with her soon enough; perhaps, if he drank enough wine, he could at least dream tonight that she wanted to be his wife as much as he wanted to have her.


Thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited or left a review : )

Slightly geeky aside: when I wrote Oberyn's comment about Trystane being crowned king, my beta opined that he would in fact be prince consort. I know this would be the case in Britain, the Queen's husband is Prince Phillip not King Phillip but I was under the impression that in Westeros the husband of the Queen was the King; mainly due to reading fics where this is the case. If anyone knows better, feel free to correct me and I will edit the chapter :)