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Tyrion III
When Tyrion waddled into the Small Council chambers, Joffrey was pacing back in forth, a gleeful look on his face. He was whispering to himself something that Tyrion couldn't understand, but the boy looked thoroughly unhinged.
Something that worried the Imp further was that the boy's mother, who looked strangely pleased about something. A smug grin spread across her face as she sipped her wine.
"Kill any puppies today?" he asked dryly as he took his seat, talking to his nephew.
Normally a comment like that would have set Joffrey off in a childish rant, but it seemed he was too happy to notice. He gestured to Varys.
"Tell him," he ordered
The Eunuch folded his arms inside his sleeves. "My little birds in the Reach have told me that Renly Baratheon is dead and that Robb Stark has been grievously injured."
Tyrion was shocked. "Dead?" he asked. "Who killed him?"
Varys shook his head. "It is unknown. There are speculations that it was the Stark boy, but there are also rumors that Stannis had a hand in it. The only confirmed information I have is that Renly was stabbed in the back.
"And Robb Stark?" Tyrion asked, ignoring the humorous smile that Baelish had on his face when Varys mentioned how Renly had died.
Varys shook his head again. "My little birds don't know that either, but the maesters say that his back might be broken. He has been brought back to Bitterbridge and is currently under the care of the Tyrells."
"I want a raven sent to Highgarden immediately ordering Mace Tyrell to bring Stark to me!" Joffrey snapped. "I can't wait to behead him the same way I beheaded his father."
Tyrion wagged a finger. "Firstly, you didn't kill Ned Stark, you merely ordered his death. There's a difference," he said. "Besides, I just repaired our relations with the Faith and I will not allow you to screw that up again. Secondly, you have had a good idea for the first time, except you want to go about it the wrong way."
"What are you suggesting?" Pycelle asked curiously.
"Mace Tyrell is a power-hungry fool," Tyrion stated, pouring himself a chalice of wine. "If we marry the king to his daughter, then we not only get a massive army but we also get food that the city desperately needs."
Cersei perked up when Tyrion mentioned marriage. "You will not marry off my son like some pawn," she said angrily. "Besides, he's betrothed to Sansa Stark."
Tyrion sighed, shaking his head. "This is the way of war," he said, looking at his sister. "Besides, Margaery Tyrell is more beautiful than Sansa Stark and brings more to our side. We need the Tyrells." he turned to Joffrey, who seemed to be actually interested in what Tyrion was saying. "Believe me, you grace. You can not ask for a better marriage prospect. She is known as the 'Rose of Highgarden'."
"And they can bring Robb Stark to me," he said wickedly, completely ignoring what Tyrion had just said.
Tyrion nodded. "If we have Stark, we can single handily bring the war to an end, and then we can focus on Stannis," he said. "Now the only question is: who will treat with the Tyrells?"
"Lord Baelish." Cersei said, looking at the Master of Coin. "Do you think you're up for the task?"
The man known as Littlefinger smirked slightly, bowing his head. "I will do what I can," he promised humbly. "As always, I am at the service of his grace," he said, nodding towards Joffrey.
Tyrion pursed his lips. Baelish was not his first choice. He didn't trust the man as far as Bronn could throw him. Then again, Tyrion didn't trust anyone in the bloody city, but Baelish was at the top of that list.
"What about one of his grace's kingsguard?" Tyrion suggested. "Ser Arys Oakheart is a reachman, is he not."
Cersei waved aside Tyrion's suggestion. "My son's guards are needed here," she said firmly. "Those who went after his uncle might come for him next."
Tyrion glared at his sister, making his feelings known about her suggestion before he sighed. "Fine. Lord Baelish, leave as soon as possible."
"Make sure Stark is included in the deal," Joffrey added again.
Baelish bowed his head again. "Thank you, your grace, for your faith in my abilities," he said politely.
"Lord Varys, is there anything else that we should know?" Tyrion asked, ready to move on to any other subjects.
"My little birds have been rather busy in the north," he said. "Edmure Tully has married Roslin Frey, the Northmen have almost completely conquered the northern Westerlands, and it seems that Balon Greyjoy has rebuilt the Iron Fleet to full strength."
Tyrion frowned. "The Iron Fleet?" he asked. "I thought that King Robert had banned the man from reforming his fleet?"
Varys nodded. "It's true, King Robert did place such a ban on the Iron Islands. My little birds have told me that Balon Greyjoy plans on placing a crown on his head once again."
"I want his head." Joffrey barked immediatly.
Cersei made a soothing sound. "My father will deal with him, Joff," she said calmly. "In due time, he will deal with these false kings."
Pycelle nodded. "Quite right," he grumbled. "It's a terrible thing, fighting against your lawful king."
"So you're saying that Robert Baratheon was wrong for rebelling against Aerys Targaryen?" Tyrion asked innocently.
The old maester spluttered. "Of course not!" he replied indignantly. "The Mad King killed a lord paramount and his son in cold blood."
Tyrion nodded slowly. "My nephew killed a lord paramount as well. So you're saying that the Starks are right to rebel?"
"Of course not!" the grand maester argued.
Tyrion rolled his eyes, done with playing with the old man. He looked back at Varys, who had watched the byplay with a small amount of amusement. "Lord Varys, you say that the Northmen have conquered the northern half of the Westerlands."
Varys nodded. "Indeed. From Banefort to the Golden Tooth."
"But not Casterly Rock," Cersei said.
Varys nodded. "Correct, your grace. It seems the Northmen have gone to great lengths to stay away from the castle and the neighboring city."
"Cowards." Joffrey snarled.
Tyrion shook his head. "Perhaps, but my father will have made sure that the Rock was properly prepared for a siege. He would never leave it undefended. If the Stark army wants the Rock, it would have to commit a large portion of its army to the siege."
"How do you know so much about siege preparations?" Cersei asked curiously, narrowing her eyes at her brother.
Tyrion shrugged. "It's common sense, my dear sister," he said with false sweetness in his voice. "Now, I believe we have bigger problems than the Rock not being attacked."
"And what's that?" Joffrey asked.
"The Ironborn," Tyrion stated simply. "If Robb Stark is in the Reach, we should believe that he was there trying to create an alliance with Renly. Let's also not forget that the Starks had Balon Greyjoy's last remaining son. Theon, I believe his name was. I am rather curious to know if Stark was dumb enough to send the boy home to create an alliance between the northern army and the Iron Islands. Or, if by dumb luck, an alliance was actually forged between the two parties. Then the Starks would have quite the navy and the opportunity to raid the Westerlands at will, if not all of Westeros."
"Stark would never forge an alliance with the ironborn." Cersei argued. "His father fought them."
Tyrion sighed. "We have spent the entire war saying that Robb Stark can't do this or do that. Aren't you tired of underestimating the boy?" he asked, looking around at the council. "Nevertheless, my father must know that Robb Stark was found in the Reach. He will do what he thinks is best with the news. We should turn our attention to the Reach and bringing the Tyrells to our side before they chose a different king to serve."
When Tyrion was about to bring the council to a close, Cersei spoke up again. "Lord Varys, what news is there on the Targaryen girl?" she asked.
Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Targaryen girl?"
Varys nodded. "Indeed. Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Mad King and the last living Targaryen. She is currently in Essos….and had managed to bring three dragons back to life."
Tyrion, who was taking a drink of wine, nearly spat the liquid on the table. He looked in disbelief at the eunuch. "Dragons?" he asked, shocked.
Varys nodded. "My poor little bird was very shaken up, but they were quite clear. Three dragons, no bigger than house cats."
"We should kill her now," Joffrey said, his voice wavering slightly. "Before she has a chance of taking my throne."
Cersei nodded. "I couldn't agree more."
Tyrion shook his head slowly. "Let's table that idea for the time being," he said, thinking quickly. "From the sound of it, the girl is quite powerless, is she not?"
Varys nodded. "Correct. Her only friends seem to be Ser Jorah Mormont, an exiled knight who is the crown's informant on the girl, and Ser Barristan Selmy."
Tyrion cursed, sending a dirty look towards Joffrey. "We need to keep that last part secret," he said. "If the realm here's that the girl has dragons and the most famous knight in the realm by her side, we may yet have another monarch emerge in this bloody war."
"Which is why she needs to die?" Cersei pushed.
Tyrion shook his head again. "No. We can not make a martyr of her. If we wait, let her wander around powerless in Essos, she is no threat to us."
"Are you mad?" Joffrey said. "The bitch has dragons!"
"That are no bigger than house cats," Tyrion said firmly. "Think carefully, your grace. Aegon the Conqueror did not take Westeros with dragons that were a few years old. Balerion and the others were hundreds of years old. The dragons the girl has pose no threat to anyone, and won't be for years. Besides, she has no children. By the time the dragons are rideable, there will be no one to ride them. Then Essos will have three wild dragons roaming their lands and we will be just fine."
"What if she is married?" Cersei asked.
"Then we kill the husband," Tyrion said simply. "We ensure that the girl remains powerless and friendless."
Cersei glared at her brother, but Tyrion didn't budge. She huffed. "Fine. But if she invades Westeros, then it is on your head and we will have no choice but to have her killed."
Tyrion nodded. "If she is making plans to invade Westeros, we will then have her assassinated before she arrives," he said firmly. "One problem at a time, sister, one problem at a time."
