As Tyrion made his way into the small council chambers, he was instantly put on edge. The king had decided to grace them with his presence and the glee that was evident on his face at Tyrion's arrival was not a good sign.
"Killed a few puppies today?" He muttered under his breath, but Joffrey's manic grin only grew.
"Show him!" the king gestured to Pycelle. "Go on-show him!" he cried as the old man moved slowly. The Grand Maester went to hold out a parchment to Tyrion, but as soon as he went to grab it, the man let the paper flutter to the floor. Glaring at Pycelle in annoyance, he bent down to retrieve the letter.
"Ohhh!" he groaned as if remorseful. "I'm sorry, my Lord- old fingers." He wiggled the perfectly functional fingers and Tyrion rolled his eyes. The blasted man would never forgive Tyrion for throwing him in the black cells for a night, but if all he could inflict was minor inconveniences, Tyrion would take it. It was well worth it.
He unscrolled the parchment and took a moment to scan the gibberish. He read aloud- ""Roslin caught a fine fat trout. Her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding. Signed Walder Frey."" He glanced up at his father, who was staring at him intently. "Is that bad poetry, or is it supposed to mean something?"
Before Lord Tywin could respond, Joffrey interrupted. "Robb Stark is dead! And his bitch mother!" Tyrion felt as if a stone had been dropped in his stomach as he reread the paper in front of him. Could it truly be?
The king turned to the Maester while Tyrion tried desperately to process this dreadful news. "Write back to Lord him for his service and command him to send Robb Stark's head to me." Then he turned to his mother "I'm going to serve it to Sansa at my wedding feast," he chittered gloatingly.
Immediately rage clouded Tyrion's vision. How dare this pathetic worm of a king think that Tyrion would stand idly by as he brutalized his wife both physically and emotionally. Tyrion thought back to the moment he had been forced to tell sweet Sansa that he was to be her new bridegroom. How before the words were even out of his mouth she had been paralyzed with fear even at the thought of something happening to her family. He was terrified to bring this news to her now, terrified of how she would react. How dare this boy look forward to seeing his wife break?
It did seem as if everyone in the room was reacting at least similarly to Joffrey's declaration. Even Pycelle looked slightly uncomfortable and Lord Varys even spoke up. "Your Grace, Lady Sansa is your aunt by marriage." Disgust was clear in his tone, but Cersei just gave a strained smile.
"A joke." She simpered, clearly trying to smooth it over. "Joffrey did not mean it."
But the boy king seemed oblivious to the distaste in the room. "Yes, I did." He then sneered towards Tyrion, who was struggling to keep his seat and not strangle his nephew. "I'm going to have it served to Sansa at my wedding feast."
Silence engulfed the room and it seemed as if everyone was waiting for Tyrion to respond. "No." He practically whispered, scared that if he released any of the fury that was building in him then he would say something unforgivable. If he unleashed his anger now, he wouldn't put it passed Joffrey to throw him in the dungeons, or worse. And he couldn't do that. He needed to be there for Sansa. She would be all alone again and he needed be there to protect her. "She is no longer yours to torment."
But Joffrey just gave him a sinister grin. "Everyone is mine to torment." Never had he been so reminded of the mad king than right now. "You'd do well to remember that, you little monster."
Tyrion couldn't help himself, but kept his neutral tone. "Oh, I'm a monster?! Perhaps you should speak to me more softly, then. Monsters are dangerous and just now kings are dying like flies."
Silence engulfed the room again as everyone processed Tyrion's threat. Joffrey looked around wildly. "I could have your tongue out for saying that!" He exclaimed incredulously.
With a stern look from Tywin, Cersei rushed to try to alleviate the situation. "Let him make his threats. Hmm? He's a bitter little man." She glared at her brother, and placed a hand on her sons arm, willing him to calm. Joffrey looked for a moment like he would cooperate, but Pycelle's wheezing voice rang out.
"Lord Tyrion should apologize immediately. Unacceptable, disrespectful, and in very bad taste!" Cersei and Tywin both flashed the Maester looks of irritation as Joffrey pulled himself out of his mother's grip.
"I am the king!" He screeched and Tyrion caught Lord Varys openly rolling his eyes. "I will punish you!" Joffrey pointed an accusing finger in Tyrion's face, but he still sat stoically. The temper tantrum he was throwing was not riling Tyrion in the slightest. He was so angry he didn't think he could move without murdering his family. So he sat, unimpressed, as the king ranted.
It seemed as if he wasn't the only one annoyed by this display. "Any man who must say, "I am the king" is no true king." Tywin growled out in a bored tone. He fixed Cersei with a hard look before moving on to Joffrey. "I'll make sure you understand that when I've won your war for you." He moved as if to wrap up the council meeting, but the king was too fired up to allow the insult to pass.
His eyes were wild as he started screaming again. "My father won the real war! He killed Prince Rhaegar- He took the crown, while you hid under Casterly Rock!"
Now even Cersei stared at her son in horror as everyone waited silently to see how the old lion would react. Joffrey himself seemed to realize what he had said and stood in muted horror before trying to stand tall. Tyrion allowed himself to survey his father, curious to see how Tywin would discipline his king.
To his credit, Tywin kept calm, as always, and just raised an eyebrow at the boy. He was almost smirking as spoke, his eyes not leaving Joffrey. "The king is tired. See him to his chambers."
Cersei immediately stood and gripped her sons arm tightly. "Come along." She murmured in his ear, tugging him towards the door. But Joffrey did not go quietly. He stood his ground, trying to keep up the staring match with Tywin.
"I'm not tired." He growled, irritated. Tywin just continued staring at him, almost amused.
Cersei was clearly getting more anxious. "We have so much to celebrate!" she coaxed. "A wedding to plan. You must rest."
"Grand Maester, perhaps some essence of nightshade to help him sleep." Tyrion watched this power play with some satisfaction.
" I'm not... tired!" Joffrey was now yelling, but as Pycelle stood with Cersei, it was clearly a losing game. Together they herded the king out.
Varys also stood to leave and Tyrion pushed his own chair out, eager to get to Sansa before Joffrey.
"Not you." His father declared and Tyrion turned to him. They waited until the chamber was otherwise empty.
"You just sent the most powerful man in Westeros to bed without his supper!" He exclaimed with mock indignation. Now his father snorted slightlly.
"You're a fool if you believe he's the most powerful man in Westeros."
"A treasonous statement! Joffrey is king!" he said sarcastically.
His father sneered at him. "You really think a crown gives you power?"
"No, I think armies give you power. Robb Stark had one, never lost a battle, and you defeated him all the same." Tywin nodded smugly. "Oh, I know. Walder Frey gets all the credit- or the blame, I suppose, depending on your allegiance." Murdering someone under guest rite was one of the worst crimes you could commit. Walder Frey was an idiot to think that this action would bring him prestige. His name would be spit upon for decades. "Walder Frey is many things, but a brave man? No. He never would have risked such an action, unless he had certain assurances..."
"Which he got from me. Do you disapprove?" He seemed bored again.
"I'm all for cheating, this is war. But to slaughter them at a wedding..." It was a great injustice that would darken both participating families.
"Explain to me why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner."
"So that's why you did it- to save lives?" He spoke dripping with sarcasm.
His father was becoming impatient with his lack of understanding. "To end the war- to protect the family. Do you want to write a song for the dead Starks? Go ahead! Write one. But I'm in this world a little while longer- to defend the Lannisters and to defend my blood."
"And it is my wife who will be paying the price! The northerners will never forget this!" Why couldn't he see that this would hurt them in the end?
"Good. Let them remember what happens when they march on the South." Tywin stood to leave, deeming the conversation over. "All the Starks are dead, save your wife. Winterfell is a ruin. Roose Bolton will be named Warden of the North until your son by Sansa comes of age." He seemed oblivious to Tyrion's rage as he looked down at him. "You've done your duty so far, but she needs to conceive."
"Do you think she'll open her legs for me after I tell her how we murdered her mother and brother?!" Tyrion was furious. All his father could think about was the end game. Having a Lannister seat in the north. Sansa would be broken by this news, but it didn't matter at all to the great lion. He watched Tyrion's outburst with emotionless eyes.
"One way or another, you will do your duty to this house."
And with that he swept out of the room, leaving Tyrion to deal with the aftermath of his actions.
A/N: Sorry guys! I know some people were hoping that the RW would not occur, but it's just too major of a plot point. Next chapter we will see how Sansa reacts!