Tyrion looks up with interest as the sound of hooves pounding the ground breaks his concentration. Mismatched eyes land on a figure dresses in the darkest black he has ever seen, as dark as a raven's feather, as dark as pitch. He knows only of the Black Brothers dressing thus. The man seems travel-weary and his clothing is dusty and well-worn, but the thin face that turns towards Tyrion reminds him of someone.
The features are unmistakable close to the Queen's. That is when Tyrion remembers that the Lyanna Stark's youngest brother has joined the Night's Watch. And now he comes to court, no doubt to beg money of his sister, or men to man the walls of those icy keeps he dwells in.
But the development is too interesting for Tyrion not to put aside his books. He leaves it in the hay, knowing that someone will pick it up and take it back where it belongs. One of the stable boys has just taken the horse of this unknown Stark and is leading the beast towards its stall.
"A brother of the Watch, I presume," Tyrion speaks, infusing his voice with that Lannister pride Jaime has taught to him.
The man looks down with some surprise. "Indeed. I am guessing that you are Tyrion Lannister. I am Benjen." The dwarf should not be at all amazed. He is famous after all. The Stark gives him a small bow. "Do you happen to know where I can find the Queen?"
It's merely conversation, Tyrion realises. Benjen knows exactly where to find his sister. But, even so, the Lannister agrees to lead the way. Tyrion barely notices the small satchel Benjen carries, but as soon as his eyes land on it, unease rolls inside of him. He tears his gaze away.
The Queen is to be found in her private rooms, joined by a noticeably carrying Lady Dayne. The two women welcome them into their fold, but Tyrion still has the distinctive feeling that they've interrupted something of some import. Lady Dayne starts to excuse herself, but neither the Queen, nor her guest think it necessary that she leave, Tyrion to is to stay.
Accepting those words without much of a fuss, Tyta rearranges herself against the pillows and Tyrion is invited to sit next to her. The lady gives him a small smile before focusing her attention on the Black Brother of the Watch, her face becoming chalk white. Tyrion thinks his eyes must be playing tricks on him.
"Do speak, Benjen," the Queen encourages him after she has kissed both his cheeks and embraced him in greeting.
A tale follows. But so gruesome and so frightening is this relation from the North that Tyrion finds himself disbelieving it almost instantly. The dead do not rise, nor can they attempt murder. However, Benjen claims to have proof. The small satchel he came in with is unbound and from within it a small chest is brought out. The wooden lid is removed and from within comes forth the remnant of an enemy. The decayed flesh steals a gasp from the Queen and a discomforting noise from her female companion. Tyrion watches the bit of evidence with curious eyes. Rolling his sleeve up, Benjen Stark shows to them the marks felt on his skin.
Whatever any of them might wish to say, whatever question they may feel the need to pose must wait for a sharp yell distract them. Tyrion looks down to see at Lady Dayne's feet a slowly gathering pool of blood. The red drips forth in small drops. Stunned, he can do no more but stare, eyes moving from the red stain to the twisting face of Tyta Frey.
More composed than them, the Queen knows exactly what must be done. She charges her brother with carrying the woman to the sleeping chamber where she is to be put in bed. Tyrion cannot look away from the sight. He wonders if his own mother looked thus when she birthed him. It seems a painful business, this giving of life. Lady Dayne releases a keen that sounds caught between ache and despair. Is she to have the same fate as Joanna Lannister? The though rankles.
A young Maester is admitted into the chamber. Tyrion can but watch through the cracked door as the man kneels and lifts the lady's skirts. He hears that the babe is too early, and then a heavy silence settles over the three people in the room. Tyrion does wish he might have witnessed more, but the door is closed after the Queen makes her way out, her pretty face marred by worry. The dwarf bites his tongue against the urge to question what goes on behind those closed doors. The Queen must know, she has children of her own.
Yet no one is willing to indulge him by now and the general mood is tense. A few servants are scurrying in with water and fresh linen. The Queen says something to one of them, before walking back towards her guests. "Pray do not be too disturbed," she speaks to them, her expression regaining some of its original tranquillity. "I do believe, Tyrion Lannister, that you were most shocked of us all." Her smile is kind and she does not grimace at his twisted form. Never has Tyrion been so close to her before. He can understand why Lyanna Stark is so well liked.
"I suppose," Tyrion replies absently. "She shall be fine, will she not?" His own mother has not survived the experience, but most women seem to. Perhaps the muffled yells coming from the adjoined room are a sign that all is yet well.
Benjen Stark has quite another question. "Do you think it had to do with-"
"Oh, don't be absurd," the Queen chides him lightly. "It could not have influenced a thing. It is in the hands of the gods, my brother." She turns her eyes away and gazes at Tyrion. "She shall be fine, my little lordling, for our prayers are with her."
There is very little left to do at this point. Tyrion gazes back at the half rotten hand. It lies innocently enough on the table where it had been forgotten. There is something about it though, something which cannot be termed anything but sinister. Tyrion gulps and walks closer to it. He takes it in his own hands and inspects it closely. There is nothing to be found. No answers illuminate his mind. All is not well though, and somehow it connects back to the hand brought from the frozen North.
Queen Lyanna brings him the small chest and the hand is buried beneath ice. They close the lid and wrap the chest back in the satchel. "I shall speak to His Majesty, Benjen, and you shall come with me. It shall be as soon as I am able."