Tyrion

"You know," Tyrion thought to himself, "the Black Cells really aren't that bad. Well, once you get over the existential terror of being locked in a room that even he couldn't stand up in and being enveloped in complete and total darkness anyway." At least he still had a pot to piss in, some straw on the damp stone floor for a mattress and every so often one of the guards would throw in a crust of bread or pan of stagnant water. He could still be locked in one of the sky cells at the Eryie. Given the choice, he would much rather be confined here. Now if only he had a candle and a book, he would be quite content. At least his bitch of a sister would hopefully forget about him down here and he was finally free of Joffery's various cruelties. He was still curious how the boy had been poisoned so easily, though in truth the world was better off without the brat.

While Tyrion sat with his back against the rough stone wall, he wondered if this was how Ned Stark felt when he was locked away down here awaiting his fate. Did he fear for his life and the lives of his family? Now that was a stupid question. Ned Stark had been a warrior all his life. He knew he was a dead man the moment he was locked away down here. He would never fear for his life. The lives of his daughters, however? Oh Tyrion would wager quite a bit that Ned Stark feared for his children.

Tyrion's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key turning in the door. The lock was quite old and very stiff, it squealed as the key was turned in it. It sounded frighteningly similar to the noises a man made while he was being disemboweled. Probably left that way intentionally. Unlike most who would turn toward a door being opened, Tyrion had been down here long enough to know to look away or he would be blinded by the torch of the guard.

As the door swung inward, Tyrion heard his father voice saying, "Tyrion."

The fact that his father had come down to talk to him honestly shocked the hell out of him. Jamie had visited him a time or two, but he never expected to see his father again except at his joke of a trial. But now he was here.

Turning towards the door, Tyrion looked through squinted eyes, and with his hand held over his face to further shade his eyes, toward where his father's voice was coming from. He could just make out the outline of Tywin Lannister through the door.

Responding to his father, Tyrion said, "Ah, Father. How good of you to come see me. I would stand and greet you properly, but well, my present accommodations do not allow even one such as I that luxury."

"Save it," Tywin replied. "Get out here. We must have words."

Well now, this was interesting. Not only did his father wish to speak with him, he apparently didn't want others, or rather, he didn't want Cersei, to know about it. Why else would the great Tywin Lannister deign to come down to the Black Cells? He was the Hand of the King. Anyone he wanted to speak to, he could have brought to his chamber in the Red Keep. He was half tempted to tell his father to go to hell and stay right where he was out of spite. But Tyrion did still love his family and despite what his father often thought, he never wanted anything but the best for it. So he moved towards the door in a crouch until he reached it and, for the first time in days, stood erect. Despite himself, Tyrion couldn't resist the urge to stretch. Every bone, muscle, joint and sinew in his body popped, crackled and stretched at once. It hurt but it felt so good at the same time.

"If you're quite done?" Tyrion heard his father say.

"Almost. Until you've been locked in one of these, you don't really appreciate the simple joy of being able to stretch."

"Even now, you're an insolent wretch."

"Yes, as you never cease to remind me."

Tyrion could see the ire rising in his father's eyes. Normally, he wouldn't care. But given his present circumstances, he really should. Just a bit.

"My apologies, Father. This is the first conversation I've had in, well, I'm not actually sure how long it's been. I seem to have forgotten my manners."

"You never had them to begin with."

Gesturing towards the stairs, Tywin ordered Tyrion to start climbing.

It wasn't long before Tyrion was out of breath and his legs were burning from the exertion. How much more did they have to go before they could stop? Finally, they came to a guard room with a table and two chairs in it and his father told him to sit. Thank the Gods, he thought. He was seriously winded.

"Did you kill Joffery?" his father asked.

Ah. So that was the conversation his father wanted to have. It helped that Tyrion actually had the truth on his side in this particular matter, but given his father's distaste for him, he wasn't sure that it would help much. Nevertheless, he would do his best to convince his father of his innocence.

"No. He was an obnoxious, sadistic, malignant terror and he was an awful King. But I didn't kill him. He was still my family, no matter how much he hated me. I may not be your ideal son, and as you've pointed out to me numerous times in the past, I tend to embarrass the family with my whoring and overall boorish behavior. But I would never betray our family like that."

For long minutes after Tyrion stopped talking, Tywin sat in his chair, as silent as a tomb, staring at him. Finally, and without so much as acknowledging what Tyrion had just said, Tywin asked:

"And Sansa?"

Here, Tyrion actually paused. His wife was innocent and naive. Well, at least as far as anyone that had been engaged to Joffery could be. But she also desperately wanted Joffery dead.

"Possibly, though I doubt it. Her absence does seem to cast suspicion on her, and by extension onto me as her husband. And it was no secret that Joffery had humiliated her and that she wanted him dead. But I don't believe that she actually had it in her to kill him. Not yet, anyway. Another few years and she would have done it without hesitation had the opportunity arrived. But she isn't there yet. So no, I don't believe she had any part in Joffery's murder, but as she is not here, I cannot completely rule it out."

Tywin sat in silence for what felt like ages. Eventually he said, "You've been a disease and a blight on my House since the day you were born. By rights I should be overjoyed at the prospect of you loosing your head and finally putting you out of my misery. But you're still my son. Killing you does nothing to advance my House. And unfortunately, out of all my children, you're the only one that seems to have inherited even half of a brain. So your death would leave House Lannister weaker.

"At any rate, Joffery's fool was found floating face down in Blackwater Bay, filled with arrows. He likely played some part in Joffery's murder. Several servants reported that he and Sansa met in secret in the Godswood several times. It's convenient enough to lay the blame on him and Sansa for now. After all, Joffery humiliated the both of them often enough and he nearly drowned his fool on his name day with wine. Out of everyone in King's Landing those two probably wanted him dead more than anyone.

"With that in mind, I have a task for you. It will get you out of the City and far away from Cersei who is so blinded by rage and grief, she doesn't care who burns for Joffery's murder as long as someone does.

"Eddard Stark's bastard has been named King in the North. His brother apparently legitimized him and named him his heir in his will. The Freys and Boltons failed to intercept that will before it reached Castle Black. Therefore, I am sending Jamie to the North with a relatively small force to reinforce Roose Bolton. You will go with him and serve as my representative. Once you arrive in the North, you will meet secretly with Stark's bastard and offer him a deal. If he submits to the Iron Throne and swears fealty to Tommen, we will confirm his legitimization, name him Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. Then Jamie and his men will join with him and help him to dispose of the Boltons."

"Betraying our gallant friends and allies so soon, Father? Not that I blame you. The Bolton's are not exactly what I would call trustworthy. Not after that nasty business in the Riverlands."

"Save your japes or I'll throw you back in your cell myself. In addition to offering him the Lordship of Winterfell, you may also offer him your cousin Joy as a wife. I'll ensure she is legitimized prior to the wedding and her hand in marriage to him will cement our alliance."

"Didn't you already promise Joy to one of Walder Frey's sons?"

"Yes, and I can unpromise her just as easily."

Tutting to himself, Tyrion said, "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Look what happened to the last man to break an engagement with House Frey."

"Shut your insolent mouth. So are you going to do as I tell you or do I have you thrown back in your cell?"

Rubbing the back of his neck as he thought everything over, Tyrion eventually said, "You realize of course that making that offer to Jon Snow is more likely to get me killed than it is that he'll accept the offer? What am I saying? Of course you realize it. That's why you want me to make the offer instead of Jamie. On the off chance that he refuses, but lets me keep my head attached to my body, what then?"

"Then Jamie will lead his men against Winterfell and forcibly remove the boy from the castle. He will then install Roose Bolton as Warden of the North as previously promised. And you happen to be overlooking one key factor. Your wife is his sister. By law and tradition, you are now his kin. Killing you would be kinslaying. And of all the Kingdoms, the North is least likely to engage in that."

"And what of Sansa? What if Jon demands the girl be returned to Winterfell? If the so-called King in the North is unwilling to acknowledge our wedding, what then?"

"Then your failure to get the girl with child will come back to haunt you even more than it already has. Did you think I was so insistent on you taking the girl's maidenhead because I was concerned about the legality of your marriage if it remained unconsummated? No, you needed to get her with child so that she would be forever tied to us and so that she would never wish to leave, even if for no other reason than to remain with her child. But you weren't even man enough to do that."

"And on the very small chance that Jon is foolish enough to accept your offer, what then? Snow will be dead within a fortnight. His own bannermen would murder him. And what happens to me after all this?"

"Then we name Jamie Warden of the North until a suitable family is found to take the Stark's place. You will return to the Westerlands and will be given a suitable keep. Where you will remain for the rest of your days, far removed from my sight. Should Sansa ever be found, she will be given the choice to either be executed or to join the Silent Sisters for the rest of her days. If she joins the Sisters, your marriage will be annulled and I will find a suitable bride for you from the Westerlands. And you will live out your days in that keep, far away from me."

So, in a way, he was still going to be executed, only the method had changed. From a simple blow by Ser Illyn Payne, it would be a long drawn out execution without even a crowd to witness his passing as he wasted away, for all intents and purposes a prisoner within his own walls. On the other hand, he supposed that with enough books and whores he could at least make it more enjoyable than the Black Cells. And the food and wine would be immeasurably better.

"When do I leave?"