Summary:

Ifs, Cans.

All Hollow's Eve is coming and we are going to spend it in Winterfell ;)

Enjoy this chapter before ladies are going to speak :)

Tyrion's POV

After these two weeks we were leaving Kings Landing. At last, but I decided that the delay was good for Jaime.

He found that Cersei had become a stranger to him, and that he might finally see her true face. For years it seemed to us that her father underestimated her. As for me, I understood what our sister really is. It happened, more or less, when I came from the supervision of a child tutor under the care of teachers for older boys.

Our sister was too ambitious, but not so intelligent and not enough hard-working to make up for her intellectual deficiencies, and too proud to listen to advice. I understood, that she would never become a competent ruler such as Lady Olena Tyrell, nor would she have such a sense of duty and honor as Catelyn Stark ... examples could be multiplied, enough to say that Cersei lacked what, I immodestly admit, I achieved - honest judgment of my own person.

On the other hand, Jamie had refused to think that Cersei was not walking perfection for a long time. It was only after her betrayal that he realized that it was not enough to be an efficient swordsman and a proud knight with an imaginary mission and secret beloved, in a word - that life is not a ballad.

Our father was not very satisfied with the results of the truest exam the Young Lion had proceeded. It wasn't a surprise for us, because he never spoiled him with praise. In retrospect, it seems to me that according to Tywin Lannister, the best method of raising children is always to be strict, because until this day he lectures us and his daughter-in-law and torments us with advice. Grandchildren are another thing - he started to smile at them for the first time and spoils them with praises day by day, and with presents month by month.

Questioned by his father, Jaime seemed to remember all the sad moments from his youth, when he preferred to skip lessons on horseback rides. Father always punished him personally because he couldn't imagine that a nobleman could raise a hand for someone other than himself. He arranged a real ceremony - held before supper, at the same time, always in his common room and in the presence of a teacher or other person whom we were just playing tricks on. He preceded the act of spanking Jaime's ass with the formula: "Son, as my heir and member of an ancient family, you have duties that you have not fulfilled and you must be punished, but know that my father's heart always hurts more and longer than my son's skin hurts!" What is interesting, he had never hit me. I stopped mocking around the same time I realized that Cersei wanted to be a queen, and she didn't have enough reason to do the job. Earlier, like a small son of the Lord and a child without a mother, I got under our tutors and servants skin more than once. Even if the fault was obviously mine, I was deprived of desserts or something similar. Maybe in his perverse sense of justice, the Old Lion refused to add a spanking to the reluctance he showed me at every turn, or maybe he thought Jamie must face harsher punishments because he believed in his golden son and not in me? An adult man was no longer supposed to be spanked, but our Lord Father sent us to the North with cautious advice that Jaime should get into political conversation as little as possible, and in any case which would not require sending a crow, he should consult with me. Old Lion cut off the questions of relatives saying that we were going at his command and he has no intention to explain any decision. We were officially supposed to carry something for Lord Stark, and Baeylish was bending over backward to find out what is the real reason. In addition, Littlefirnger was furious. For whom as for whom, but for him and for Varys it was clear that the reasons for visiting Winterfell could be matchmaking.

Jamie asked me to never leave him alone with Cersei during these two weeks. I tried to fulfill my request, but I noticed that there was always a one of father's trusted man, Varys 'little birds' or Littlefinger himself somewhere nearby, and I almost didn't have to watch him. Of course, there was a dramatic last conversation. Cersei first laughed at his scruples, then tried to convince him with threats and pleas, and finally with tears, but apparently she chose the wrong order, because Jamie, though he was leaving with erratic compassion for her, was disgusted by the arsenal of female tricks. Jamie argued that, regardless of the fact that his majesty never forgot Lyanna Stark, as one of the strongest families of the South we have some moral obligations to the North. Something bothered him a lot, but he was probably so determined only when he decided to put on white. Father solemnly promised to make Robert treat our sister better, and I dared to support this request. After all, no woman deserves to be treated badly simply because she is not a dead loved one and her first-born child died in infancy.

Cersei could gain my sympathy. I even understood that she blamed me for my mother's death, I just associated it with her. Instead of influencing my father to humanly send me away somewhere, she did everything to destroy me. But who am I, with my love of joy and being blessed by a forgiving wife to instruct anyone? Let us leave the philosophical and ethical statements to the wise men, and let us return to the adventurous story based on the history of my family.

Finally came the day when, with appropriate assistance and gifts for the Starks, we set off with light hearts, like youngsters on an adventure. We were farewelled by overjoyed Robert Baratheon, who was already imagining that he might be throwing Arya Stark with Tommen and by Cersei, doubly furious about losing control over Jamie and her Lord Husband fantasies, and father, and Jon Arryn. For a change, both old men could sit down to play with the best cardsharpers, they were so calm and unmoved. Littlefinger and Spider watched us from the battlements. The only thing that disturbed my mood was the awareness that in addition to valuable maps for Lord Stark, in one of the same solid caskets we were carrying an unofficial and rather gruesome gift for Benjen Stark.

I was wondering whether to treat as a good or bad omen the fact that we met along the way and took with us an interesting company. First, they were carts of musicians and actors, among them a woman-dwarf with a wonderful wit. She turned out to be a great interlocutor and companion. Then we met a female knight. Her name was Brienne, and she was Lord Tarth's only child. She made friends with Jamie so much that I began to be afraid of his matrimonial intentions, but a few days of observing these two dispelled my doubts. Lady Brienne was going to offer her sword to the Starks and was naively delighted that the South was seeking agreement with the North, but beyond the absurd sense of honor and funny and rigid way of being, she seemed intelligent. Much later it turned out that nothing better could happen to us than Lady Brienne's and those comedians' company. I also met an interesting side of my brother's character. He got up at the crack of dawn and began training, as he used to do for a long time, but also he began to pray again. When I asked what he was asking for, he replied calmly and quietly that he asked the gods to hear him and forgive his stupidity. He confessed to me what troubled him. He asked me if it was normal that he still had loved Cersei, though he wanted to be poles apart from her. I told him that I would be worried if his heart changed so much and that I supposed I understanded how he felt.

Finally we arrived at the Twins. We limited our stay there and courtesy to a minimum. We didn't want uncomfortable questions, but Old Frey guessed a lot. The farther we were from King's Landing and Crossing, the less gloomy and the more nervous Jaime became. About halfway from Twins to Winterfell, he began to ask me first what I thought about Starks, then about Sansa, which was both understandable and irritating because I didn't know them so well that he should choose me as an adviser.

- Tyrion, how should I start a conversation with Lord Stark?

I felt respect in his voice, it was a significant change in attitude. Jamie hasn't got the best opinion of Eddar, and he was dismissive about him, but why wonder if Ned beat Jaime's Master, Arthur Dayne?

- I think you should try a little humbleness, after all, dear brother, you killed the king. This event has no precedent in our history. Tell something of a soul torn to this day, but then get straight to the point. The Northeners ones don't value long discussions. I would not feel remorse after killing this particular monarch being in your place, but I hope you can pretend a little.

Jamie mumbled a quote from the play our comrades had practiced - one of her heroes said he would felt the king of the world if he hadn't had nightmares or something like that - and louder he said he could do it.

The next day he started with another tap.

- Tyrion, does Lady Catelyn like flattery?

- I'd rather not try to flatter her like a courtier, but I don't think any woman despises a nice and sincere compliment. At least try to find an agreement with Robb, this should set her as favorably as possible. This will not spare you, of course, fraternal conversation with Robb about the miserable fate of a husband, through whom Sansa will shed at least one tear, but it will certainly help. The best way to gain a woman's heart is through her children, unless you're going to court her, though this is all about children in a long term. - I said, but he wasn't laughing.

He used to have such a bad day that Lady Brienne asked me to figure out what was going on. Jamie still sweaty after the evening workout and shivering with anger made me realize that even the best makes mistakes. Father and I did not discus plans to discredit our competitors. Jamie heard the ugly rumor in the tavern. Thanks to Seven, he was smart enough to scold the lower-born interlocutor in refined words and not get into a fight like a peasant in dance, jealous of the plump Katie, but he had to somehow relieve his frustration, and Brienne did not know how to talk to him. He asked beside her:

- Tyrion, could Lord Stark take the Bolton's offer seriously?

Lady Tarth's round eyes grew even larger with terror. The fame of the Dreadfort Lords apparently went far.

- Knowing Stark - there is such a risk. He is more honorable than wise, but remember that messing with Boltons ... you understand. It is a real misfortune that Domeric Bolton is dead. Stark is getting older, he will seek agreement. Will he sacrifice Sansa for her? Probably not, because since he is constantly discouraging Robert from the concept of poisoning the Beggar King and Queen, he will not be able to give his daughter's hand to this maniac. If Roose wanted Sansa for himself - patricide is as sure as... - I waved my hand.

Lady Brienne opened her mouth to hear that. Lord Tarth must have neglected something in her education, since my words shocked her.

Jamie looked at me in horror, as if he didn't have the incestuous relationship repeatedly and eagerly consumed on his conscience, but even in me the vision of Ramsey's reaction to his father's new wife caused a cold shiver.

- Whatever you do, don't tease the Boltons. We'll manage with the Frey, but I'd rather watch your skin on you, not on Ramsey's coat ...

Then Jaime looked at me for the first time as a father would look in his place. This look, full of lioness, contempt, but also aggressive attention, was to be seen on his face more often, but let's not be ahead of the facts.

- There shall perish a hair from her head and I'll catch him, give a hangman good coin, and the last sounds Ramsay will hear in this world will be"Rains of Castamere"... - he drawled.

I have already lost count and my memory disappoints me, how many of these less significant "Tyrion, how, why, what if ...?" were. I would not be myself, if I did not mention you, dear reader, the last and funniest question. Jamie asked it as the walls of Winterfell loomed through us.

- Tyrion, what if she thinks I'm too old?

When I stopped laughing, Jaime was almost offended, and Lady Brienne managed to hide a giggle, I advised:

- Don't try to rip a youngster. It's the stupidest thing an older man can do. Don't worry, as far as I know, she is too well behaved to show something like tahat.

I'm not interested in her manners, just what she really thinks!

I sighed.

- And if she thinks so? What will you do?

He was very tense.

- I will try to show her the good side of this situation. I can protect her better than anyone her age. And although you're smarter, I'm not doing the worst among courtiers. And ... I don't know! Maybe it's a bad idea? What do you think?

- I think you ask me a little late, but you are finally starting to consider it in terms of a relationship with a specific woman, not with the woman whom Cersei hates the most. It's a good sign.

Poor Lady Brienne seemed to want to sink to the ground in embarrassment at hearing that.

- You are right, but from the beginning ... it was also always about the fact that she was ... straightforward. I hope so.

- Ser Jaime, can I say something? - Lady Tarth was dead serious. Jamie nodded absently. - You have to try. She is your last chance for honor.

Jaime didn't comment on that. He hung his head, it was clear that he was fighting with his thoughts. Finally he raised his head and looked at the rising walls of Winterfell like the man who had made the final decision.

There were three days left until the All Hollows Eve.