All rights belong to GRRM

Tyrion IV

When Littlefinger walked into the small council chambers, all eyes were on him in an instant. As usual, though, he refused to drop his blasted smirk from his face. Even when facing the collective glare of both Tyrion and Cersei. When he took his seat, the room was ominously quiet.

"You had one job, Lord Baelish." Tyrion sighed, cradling a chalice of wine in his hands. "Bring the Tyrells to our side and we win the fucking war."

Baelish put his hands together on the table. "I was under the impression from our….esteemed Master of Whispers that Robb Stark would be incapacitated," he explained. "Unfortunately, he was all but."

Cersei turned her glare on Varys. "Lord Varys, Lord Baelish does have a point. You said the Stark boy had a broken back."

"I believe I said it was a rumor," Varys said, defending himself.

"So much for your little birds," Cersei muttered.

"What else did you learn, Lord Baelish?" Tyrion asked, turning the conversation back to the Tyrells.

Baelish sighed. "I thought I was meeting with Lord Mace and his heir, Willas. Turns out the heir is smarter than the father."

"Not a surprise," Tyrion grumbled. "Olenna Tyrell's intelligence apparently skipped over her son and went to her eldest grandson."

Baelish nodded. "Indeed. Our meeting was interrupted by the arrival of Ser Garlan Tyrell and Robb Stark himself. Apparently, the day before I arrived, the Reach pledged themselves to the King in the North."

"Traitors." Cersei hissed.

"Furthermore, when the Queen of Thorns entered the room, I learned that not only did the Reach pledge their loyalty to the Northern king, but Mace Tyrell's daughter is set to marry him." Baelish continued, ignoring the queen.

Tyrion sighed and leaned back in his seat. "How fucking perfect," he said. "Now we have a host of enemies to our north and a host of enemies to our south. And we are stuck in a hungry, impoverished city with our only hope of victory stuck in the Ruins of Harrenhal."

"I do not believe Robb Stark will march on the capitol," Varys said.

"Why wouldn't he?" Cersei scoffed. "We have nothing to stop the boy."

"My little birds…." Varys began.

"Stop with your fucking birds." Cersei sighed. "We've seen how reliable they are."

Varys made a vague gesture. "Forgive me, your grace, but my little birds are not infallible. This, however, is true. Robb Stark has convinced the reachmen that Stannis Baratheon is to blame for Renly's death."

"That would be kinslaying!" Pycelle gasped.

"What proof did the boy have that Stannis committed the crime?" Tyrion asked.

"He said it was blood magic performed by the priestess that the man now has by his side," Varys explained, his face darkening slightly as he mentioned blood magic.

"Blood magic is nonsense," Pycelle grumbled. "Charlatan trickery."

Varys glared at the old maester, his perfectly controlled facade breaking for just a moment. "I assure you, Grand Maester, blood magic is very real," he said, his voice deadly serious. "My little birds have since fled Dragonstone, but the last ones told me that Stannis is now firmly under her control."

"Stannis is not a godly man," Tyrion pointed out. "Whatever control this priestess has over the man, I'm sure it's not as bad as it may seem."

"He's burned the sept and all the statues of the Seven." Varys deadpanned. "His banner is now a black stag in a flaming heart. He has been converted to the Lord of Light. There is no denying it."

Baelish rolled his eyes, while Cersei just drained the last of what was in her goblet. Tyrion swished the wine in his chalice thoughtfully. "So Renly is dead. What's happened to the Stormlander lords?"

"They've gone over to Stannis. He now has over 25,000 men outside of Storm's End." Varys said.

Tyrion nodded slowly. "You said Stark pointed the finger at Stannis. You think he's going to attack Stannis to avenge the younger baratheon?"

Varys nodded. "I wouldn't put it past the King in the North."

Tyrion smirked. "Neither would I." he agreed softly. "Keep an eye on the boy. I will send a raven to my father at Harrenhal. He needs to know that the odds are greatly stacked against us."

"That will be all for now, my lords." Cersei said, stopping the meeting dead in its tracks.

The other members of the council glanced between the siblings, but followed the Queen Regent's order, putting their papers in order before filing out of the room, leaving the two Lannisters alone.

"As always, dear sister, you are as sweet as honey." Tyrion muttered, taking a drink of his wine.

"Shut up." Cersei hissed. "As much as I hate to see the Stark boy gain more power than he had any right to have, I am pleased to see your clever little plot fall apart in front of your eyes."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "My clever little plot? And what would that be?"

"You tried to sell my son off like some piece of livestock." Cersei snarled. "He is the king of Westeros."

Tyrion scoffed. "I hadn't noticed." he said. "Oh, and as of right now, he is king of the crownlands and the Westerlands….well, half of them that is."

"We would be winning this war if Father would finally move and attack the Starks and Tullys." Cersei said, leaning forward. "Instead, he sits on his ass in some ruin, watching the war happen around him."

"In case you haven't noticed, Father is a little preoccupied trying to win the war your son started." Tyrion argued. "Besides, if father goes north, who's going to protect the capitol from our enemies to the south?"

"Varys just said that the Stark boy is going into the Stormlands with the army of the Reach. The northern host is without it's leader." Cersei said.

Tyrion propped his head up on his hand, regarding his sister. "You do know how many men the Reach can field, don't you?"

Cersei frowned in confusion. "100,000." she answered.

Tyrion nodded. "100,000 men with swords and spears and bows who would like very much to kill you and me and Father and your son, the King of Westeros as you say." Tyrion explained. "If Father goes north, then all the Stark boy has to do is split the current force he now controls, which he is more than capable of doing. He has the numbers, and the commanders I might add, to completely overwhelm Stannis Baratheon and attack King's Landing while Father is stuck in the Riverlands trying to deal with the northern host."

Cersei glared at Tyrion, knowing that he had just scored a point in their verbal battle. "Even you must admit, in your little brain, that Father must do something."

Tyrion nodded. "I do, but that is not to say that Father is doing nothing." he said. "With the amount of allies that the Stark boy now has, do you believe that they are all getting along?"

Cersei shook her head.

"Exactly." Tyrion continued. "Robb Stark is not a god, nor a werewolf as the singers like to believe. He is a boy who has stunned the realm. That does not mean that he is perfect. He has a weakness, and that is currently being exploited."

Cersei frowned. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

Tyrion raised a message that he had in front of him, passing it to his sister. "Before you sent our little band of friends away, we never got to talk about what is happening in the North."

Cersei read the message, looking back at her brother. "The ironborn have invaded the North."

Tyrion nodded, snatching the message back from her. "Indeed. Apparently, the Stark boy sent Balon's son back to him in the hopes of creating an alliance with the Iron Islands. Robb Stark has just learned a hard lesson: never trust a Greyjoy." Tyrion said. "And now his people are bleeding because of it."

"What's happened?" Cersei asked.

Tyrion sighed, taking another drink of wine. "Torrhen's Square and Deepwood Motte have been taken. Two strong northern castles." he explained. "Now, if didn't understand that, understand this: the northern lords will not stand by while their homeland is attacked. Now all the gold in the Westerlands will keep them in the south."

"They'll go home." Cersei said, a lit of hope shining in her eyes.

Tyrion nodded. "Exactly." he said. "There goes Robb Stark's most ardent supporters."

"The boy still has 100,000 men." Cersie snarled. "We need allies."

Tyrion grinned slightly. "Why, dear sister, that might be the smartest thing you've said since I arrived in this terrible place." he said, taking a small amount of pleasure getting under his sister's skin. "You're right, we need allies. And I already have an idea."

"What is it?"

"The Vale has been oddly quiet." Tyrion said. "I rather expected them to immediately join the Stark boy in going after Joffrey's head, but they haven't. Varys tells me that Lady Lysa is remaining neutral. I then asked our Master of Whispers to find me everything he could on the Lady of the Vale, and he came back with some rather interesting rumors."

Cersei huffed. "I fail to see why you're talking about that woman."

"Patience is a virtue." Tyrion chuckled. "The reason I am talking about Lysa Tully is because Petyr Baelish grew up with her in Riverrun. Did you know that? No, you probably didn't. It's beneath you to know such information. There's even a rumor spread by Baelish himself that he took both Tully girls maidenhoods."

"Get to the point." Cersei growled.

Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Sweet as vinegar," he muttered, amending his previous statement. "We could send Lord Baelish to the Vale in an effort to make an alliance of our own." he stated.

"The Vale lords will never ally with us. Ned Stark grew up in the Vale." Cersei pointed out.

Tyrion nodded. "Correct, but when their lady said that they would remain neutral, they did. Even when their dear Ned Stark had his head chopped off. If Lady Lysa ordered them to attack the Starks and Tullys, I am willing to bet that a number of them would obey."

Cersei tapped her finger on the table thoughtfully, looking towards the wall. After a few moments of thinking, she looked back at her brother.

"Do you really think it'll work?" she asked, all the venom in her voice gone. At her core, Cersei was a woman who was driven by her instincts to protect her children and those she cares about. If there was even a slight chance to win the war, she was willing to try it.

Tyrion nodded. "It won't hurt to try. We need friends to win this war. If this doesn't work, we will have to look elsewhere."

"Where?" Cersei asked.

"Across the Narrow Sea." Tyrion said. "We can hire a few sellsword companies."

"But we're in debt." Cersei pointed out.

Tyrion shrugged. "Father has an account with the Iron Bank. More than enough to pay for one or two companies. Perhaps the Golden Company. 10,000 trained sellswords. That would be nice."

Cersei nodded, standing up. "I'll go inform the king of what is happening."

Tyrion nodded as well. "Try to keep him from beating Lady Sansa again, would you."

Cersei glared at her brother before sweeping out of the room. Tyrion watched her go. The acting Hand of the King drained the last of his wine and hopped off his chair. He needed to go see Shae.