On his way home, Tyrion stopped at a bar. He sat down at the counter and ordered a drink. "I'll have a shot of cranberry schnapps, please."
"Ain't got it. This is a drinkin' pit," said the bartender. "We don't cater fer the likes of the hoity toity here."
"But you have a bottle of schnapps in the cabinet right there," Tyrion said, pointing.
"All those bottles in there are just fer decoration. If ya want a drink, your choices are beer or pickle juice."
Tyrion sighed. "Fine, I'll have a beer then."
Just then Lois came in. Tyrion stood up. "Lady Griffin, what an unexpected pleasure. I was sorry to miss you at Winterfell."
"Hang on, I think I'm supposed to be mad at you for somethin'," Lois said.
Tyrion gave her a winning smile. "Mad at me? I'm the one Lannister no one ever gets mad at. In fact, some critics said I was the best character in both the book and the first season of the show. Take that, Sean Bean!"
But Lois was looking around at the other guys in the bar. "You in the corner," she said to an old man. "Is that the black bat of Harrenhal I see embroidered on your surcoat, ser?"
The man got to his feet. "It is, my lady."
"And is Lady Whent still a true an' honest friend to my father, Lord Carter Pewterschmidt of Riverrun?"
"She is," the man replied stoutly.
"The red stallion was ever a welcome sight in Riverrun," Lois said to three guys by the fire. "My father counts Jonos Bracken among his oldest an' most loyal bannermen."
The three guys exchanged uncertain looks. "Our lord is honored by his trust," one of them said hesitantly.
"I envy your father all these fine friends," Tyrion quipped, "but I do not quite see the purpose of this, Lady Griffin."
She ignored him, turning to a large party in blue and grey. "I know your sigil as well: the twin towers of Frey. How fares your good lord, sers?"
Their captain rose. "Lord Walder is well, my lady. He plans to take a new wife on his ninetieth name day, and has asked your lord father to honor the wedding with his presence."
Lois turned back to Tyrion. "This man came as a guest into my house, and there conspired to murder my son Stewie," she proclaimed to the room at large, pointing. "In the name of King Robert an' the good lords ya serve, I call upon you to seize him and help me return him to Winterfell to await the king's justice."
"You're making a sad mistake, Lady Griffin," Tyrion protested. "I had no part in any attack on your son. On my honor…"
"Lannister honor," was all she said.
About a dozen people stood up and drew their swords. They were all pointing their weapons at Tyrion.
"Don't kill 'im here!" the bartender begged.
"Don't kill him anywhere," Tyrion urged.
"Take him somewhere else, no blood here, m'lady, I don't want no high lordlin's quarrels in my bar."
"We're takin' him back to Winterfell," Lois said.
"All right," said Tyrion. "I'll come along quietly and stand trial. I'm innocent, so I have nothing to fear."
Lois and all those guys dragged Tyrion outside. "Somebody tie 'is hands together," Lois said.
"I'll do it," said a sellsword named Bronn who had decided to come with them.
Bronn tied Tyrion's hands. Then two other men lifted him up onto a saddle. Everyone else climbed onto horses of their own, and they started to ride away.
Tyrion soon realized something was wrong. "This is the high road!" he gasped. "The eastern road. You said we were riding for Winterfell!"
"I just said that to throw off anyone who might be followin' us," said Lois. "We're really goin' to the Eyrie, where my sister Carol lives."
Tyrion cursed inwardly. All his life he had prided himself on his cunning, and yet this seven times dammed she wolf had outwitted him at every turn.