Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines belong to the series creators and George R.R. Martin.

Of all the causes which conspire to blind man's erring judgement, and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules, is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
If once right reason drives that cloud away, truth breaks upon us with resistless day.
Trust not yourself: but your defects to know, make use of every friend- and every foe.

A little learning is a dangerous thing; drink deep...
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again.

from An Essay on Criticism: Part 2 by Alexander Pope

Tyrion

†

He'd never visited Dragonstone before, on account of it being home to Lord Stannis, who was much too serious a fellow to tempt Tyrion into sharing a roof with the man. Before, he might have considered it sort of a dank, clammy place, but with the dragons roaming in all places, burning fires to eat or for some reason he did not know, the place was almost magical, perhaps in part due to the added theatricality of the dragons and mythical creatures that decorated the vast castle. He would have been glad to stay here, but knew it was not meant to last.

He looked out onto the sea, the fleet dotted the coastline in various sizes depending on how close they were, as he waited for Lord Varys. They had agreed to meet in an unused tower overlooking the water, and it was colder than he'd expected. He'd been tempted to leave when five and twenty minutes passed and Varys did not arrive.

In that moment, a breeze entered the room along with the spider, who was covered fully by a dark cloak.

"It's about time," He said, glancing at the man's outer layer enviously. "I'm freezing my balls off."

"My apologies, Lord Tyrion," Varys replied, closing the door behind him quietly.

"Seeing as I do not run such a risk, I'd be glad to offer you my cloak."

He moved to take it off but Tyrion interrupted him, "Don't bother. What have you for me?"

The eunuch stopped his movements, and brought his hands down, locking them at his waist. He moved a little closer paying no mind to the dusty old room.

"It seems King's Landing is near impenetrable, which is why I was delayed. My only spy had quite a time getting out of the city. They do bring much information though."

Tired of the view and more intrigued in what secrets Varys had brought, Tyrion moved from the small window, and sat in one of the small stools left in the room, listening intently.

"The Queen remains the same, feared and hated now that her ways are commonly known."

"That sounds like much of what we already knew," He replied sadly.

He'd never been close to his sister, and he had as little love for her as she had for him, yet he was filled with sorrow knowing one day, someone would have to end her life. There would never be any peace with Cersei.

"There is also word of your brother, the Kingslayer, though they call him the Knight Of Mercy now, though only in whispers."

This shocked him, but he did not speak so Varys could explain.

"It seems he emerged from hiding when your sister had her first public execution. From then on, he's been seen patrolling the city, handling situations before they are brought to the Queen."

"So he's hand then," Tyrion said pleasantly surprised considering the circumstances, "As I am."

Varys grinned lightly, "In a manner of sorts, Qyburn holds the title officially. Still, I have not explained why he has earned this new nickname, not entirely. Your brother it seems, is the Queen's new executioner."

This seemed to contradict everything the Master of Whispers had just said, and so he could not hide the shocked expression, and he'd long since forgotten the cold.

"Ser Ilyn Payne was found dead only recently, his head chopped off though they say not very cleanly. Ser Jaime offered his sword. Surprisingly, the queen accepted, but the Knight of Mercy does not cut their heads off, nor does he hang them. It is said, he burns them in the dragons pit."

This, he could not believe. They had called him Kingslayer, but Tyrion knew he'd killed the Mad King to save the kingdom. He could not believe he loved Cersei enough to murder for her.

"Do not worry, my lord," Varys said then.

"Either Cersei feigns knowledge, or she is truly blind I cannot say, but the people seem to revere your brother. They know he keeps them from her wrath, and when he cannot, he offers mercy. That is, they believe he takes their lives quickly, and burns them for the gods, though some say for her."

He had not expected this, though he knew his brother to be good, with a nickname like 'Kingslayer', he never thought the people would ever see him as he was, noble and honourable. Still, he could not believe even that Jaime would kill them in mercy, or to appease his sister.

Varys continued as if reading his mind, "There is a hidden passage that leads out to the sea, few know of it anymore. Only a select few who served under the Mad King."

The implication was clear, Lord Varys knew of it himself. As did Jaime.

"So he does not burn them, he frees them."

The master of whispers nodded, and remained silent.

"I must admit, I am relieved," He let out a breath to that effect and stood. He was about ready to leave this frigid tower by the sea, and his old friend seemed to have delivered all his whispers.

As he stepped towards the door, he realized he was wrong.

Varys did not even seem to notice, for he continued, "There may still be time to save your brother, my lord. And the lives of countless others, innocent and soldier alike."

In that moment the spider turned to look at the stool he'd until recently been occupying and as he realized he was not there, turned to look about the room. Varys seemed puzzled by his movements, and there was no point in telling him, so Tyrion addressed his words instead.

"How so?" he asked simply, though he had a feeling he knew.

In his usual grave yet detached manner, Varys answered, "He must slay the Queen."

†

He was sitting in front of the fire, a cup of wine in hand and a large pitcher of it as his side, considering the spider's words. He'd not liked the proposal, hated the idea of asking his brother to murder his lover and sister, but the more he thought of it, the more sense it made. It was clear Cersei was capable of anything to keep her reign, and burning everyone in King's Landing as the Mad King had once, did not seem past her. Cersei would die, of that he was certain, but if he could save his brother, who was good despite it all, and avoid the loss of more lives, then her death would be worth it. And so, he agreed.

Varys had kept his spy in Dragonstone, to wait for his decision, as once they got back in King's landing, it was likely they would not be able to leave again. In a fortnight, Tyrion himself would go, as a plot as thick as theirs, could not be given to anyone, and it was probable he would be the only one to succeed in convincing Ser Jaime to play his part. He knew it was a risk to his life, but he knew his brother would not betray him, he hoped at least.

It was at this thought that Queen Daenerys entered, glancing at the table of Westeros as she moved to sit beside him.

"Good evening your Grace," He said solemnly as she sat.

She moved slowly, and he knew she was tired, as she did not return the greeting.

"What did you need to speak of?" She asked, her eyes weary.

It was late already, and she'd spent the day visiting her armies on their many boats, to inspire them for battle. Little did she know, if their plan worked, her men had traveled all this distance for nothing.

"There are many important issues we must discuss your Grace, but tonight, I will only mention two. The first being of the utmost importance hence the hour of this late meeting, the second, mostly so that you may have time to consider its viability."

She grinned as he reached to fetch a cup, and poured her some wine from the pitcher at his side.

"I'm listening," She said as he passed it to her and she took a long sip.

He did not return her gesture but he did speak, "Lord Varys has received word of the capital, and as you were away, I made a decision on an urgent matter, though I do not think you will object."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "You are stalling, and I've had a long day."

She did not seem to mind that he'd spoken in her name, though he should not be so surprised, he was her hand after all.

"It seems my brother Jaime is now my sister's executioner, though he sets his victims free instead of burning them as he says. They call him the Knight of Mercy, when my sister and her men are not around of course."

"It seems you are not the only honourable Lannister there is," She said, seeming pleased by this. She did not seem to doubt the news, likely because Varys was good at what he did.

"I'm glad you're convinced my Queen, as in a week I will travel to King's Landing and speak with him myself."

This however, did shock her.

"Whatever for?" She exclaimed.

He took a large gulp of his wine before answering, "To convince him to murder our sister."

For a long moment, she said nothing, but it was obvious she did not initially care for the idea. He had not either, but then, as he did, she must have seen the merits in this plan.

"Is it wise to take the crown through treachery?" She finally asked, though he was not sure if she wanted an answer or not.

"I think not, but thankfully, I'm very good at making treachery not seem so treacherous."

His lips turned up, but it was a depressing display, and he drank again from his cup.

"It is not a pretty game we play."

"We need not discuss the details tonight," She continued after a moment's silence. "What was the other matter you wished for me to think on?"

He finally turned to look at her. "What a world we live in that we talk of killing and then of marriage right after."

"Who's marriage?" She asked surprised.

"Yours of course, your Grace," he replied, leaning back into his chair, swirling his wine before taking a sip.

He was not surprised to find that while news, and all matters truly, from the capital were grim, what else he'd learned from the spider in that tower, had not displeased him.

She smirked at him, "Who am I marrying this time?"

"Lord Varys did not only receive word from the capital. His birds in the north, which he has managed to retain, have finally appeared now that he's close enough to them."

"We're not close to the north," She said dubiously.

He grinned, "Right to my point. It seems the North has declared a new King, and the Vale, ruled by Lord Baelish who holds the heir, Robin Arryn, which sits just above us, has declared for him. It seems also, that Walder Frey and his sons are dead, someone freed his son-in law, and Riverrun has been retaken by Edmure Tully and he's declared for this King as well. The three combined..." He trailed off.

"Make up more than half my kingdom?" She finished for him, not entirely pleased with this news. Somehow, this information seemed more grave to her than having his brother kill his sister.

"You would have me marry this traitor? If we take the capital without bloodshed, what is to stop me from taking the North with it instead? They will bend the knee or my dragons will melt ice, boil water and turn rock to dust."

He did not address her words of war, he was accustomed to the fire in her blood, and was glad she was capable of reasoning once the embers blew out.

"They are not your enemies, your Grace. The North is an old place, and the people loyal to their own. It will not be won with ease, not by force. Especially not now that winter is upon us. The northerners will not have forgotten what our fathers have done to their liege lord's family, so we cannot hope to sway them to our side and the land is vast, not so easily tamed. No, marriage is a much better tool for this job, it will last longer as well."

He paused as he reached for the pitcher of wine, and offered some to the Queen first. When she held out her cup, he stretched to pour her some, and luckily did not spill any. She nodded in thanks, and he poured himself before resuming.

"The King they named is but the bastard of their great Lord Eddard Stark, and the only male left to his bloodline. I met the man when he was a boy of four and ten, but he was a good lad, even then. A true Stark in all but name. As for the lords of the Riverlands and the Vale, they both swear fealty, though for different reasons, for the lovely Lady Sansa. Formally Lady Bolton, and before that Lady Lannister."

He'd already told her of Sansa, and how he'd been forced to marry her, how they'd never consummated said marriage. He thought of her sometimes, and her beauty, and wondered how much more beautiful she must be now that she was no longer a child. But he did not miss her, he had never loved her, not truly.

"Lord Edmure is her uncle, and Littlefinger no doubt wants her by his side as he'd once wanted her mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, though he must have other intentions. Lord Baelish is not a man led by his cock."

She grimaced slightly at his last words, but she seemed to be growing accustomed to his slanderous tongue. He smirked though he returned to the issue at hand.

"The Riverlands will pledge easily after you secure the Starks, and all you'll have to worry about is Littlefinger. We must only pry him from the Vale's heir. Lord Arryn is Lady Sansa's cousin after all.""

She looked at him as if she was thinking of other things, but she said nothing about it at least.

"Well, you have brought it to my attention, and I will consider it. Agreed?"

He nodded, and then held his cup out. She tapped her's against his and they both sipped their wine. They were celebrating, either his sister's death, or her upcoming nuptials, he was not sure.

Thanks for reading, and for the interest in my story! I'm trying to follow cannon as much as I can, but I've only read the first book, and half the second. So it's based on the Tv series only. Though I've done some research online for family names and history and stuff like that.

Anyways, as always, reviews are appreciated!