Sansa

The door opened and Tyrion's squire, Podrick Payne entered the room. "My lord, My Lady" the boy said with shyness. Tyrion was still staring at the blank parchment.

Tyrion put down the quill. "Find Bronn and bring him at once. Tell him there's gold in it, more gold than he's ever dreamt of, and see that you don't return without him."

"Yes, my lord. I mean, no. I won't. Return." He went.

Sansa looked at Tyrion with renewed worry. "Are you going to demand a trial by battle?"

"Only if Bronn accepts, he saved me from your touched aunt you know."

Sansa was curious and she had not heard the whole story. "How did you meet Bronn?"

Tyrion told her the story of how the sellsword came to Tyrion's defense in the Vale. When he was done he added "my brother would have been my first choice, but I doubt he's in town". When he mentioned his brother he looked sad and distant. "Oh gods, could you imagine the tears of blood my sweet sister would cry if he became our champion."

Jaime

Another knight in white armor was guarding the doors of the royal sept; a tall man with a black beard, broad shoulders, and a hooked nose. When he saw Jaime he gave a sour smile and said, "And where do you think you're going?"

"Into the sept." Jaime lifted his stump to point. "That one right there. I mean to see the queen."

"Her Grace is in mourning. And why would she be wanting to see the likes of you?"

Because I'm her lover, and the father of her murdered son, he wanted to say. "Who in seven hells are you?"

"A knight of the Kingsguard, and you'd best learn some respect, cripple, or I'll have that other hand and leave you to suck up your porridge of a morning."

"I am the queen's brother, ser."

The white knight thought that funny. "Escaped, have you? And grown a bit as well, m'lord?"

"Her other brother, dolt. And the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Now stand aside or you'll wish you had."

The dolt took a long look this time. What possessed Cersei to give that man a white cloak? "Is it ... Ser Jaime?" He straightened. "My pardons, milord. I did not know you. I have the honor to be Ser Osmund Kettleblack."

Where's the honor in that? "I want some time alone with my sister. See that no one else enters the sept, ser. If we're disturbed, I'll have your bloody head."

"Aye, ser. As you say." Ser Osmund opened the door.

Cersei was kneeling before the altar of the Mother. Joffrey's bier had been laid out beneath the Stranger, who led the newly dead to the other world. The smell of incense hung heavy in the air, and a hundred candles burned, sending up a hundred prayers. Joff's like to need every one of them, too.

His sister looked over her shoulder. "Who?" she said, then, "Jaime?" She rose, her eyes brimming with tears. "Is it truly you?" She did not come to him, however. She has never come to me, he thought. She has always waited, letting me come to her. She gives, but I must ask. "You should have come sooner," she murmured, when he took her in his arms. "Why couldn't you have come sooner, to keep him safe? My boy...

Our boy. "I came as fast I could." He broke from the embrace, and stepped back a pace. "It's war out there, Sister."

"You look so thin. And your hair, your golden hair. . ."

"The hair will grow back." Jaime lifted his stump. She needs to see it. "This won't."

Her eyes went wide. "The Starks..."

"No. This was Vargo Hoat's work."

"The Goat of Harrenhal. For a little while."

Cersei turned to gaze at Joffrey's bier. They had dressed the dead king in gilded armor, eerily similar to Jaime's own. The visor of the helm was closed, but the candles reflected softly off the gold, so the boy shimmered bright and brave in death. The candlelight woke fires in the rubies that decorated the bodice of Cersei's mourning dress as well. Her hair fell to her shoulders, undressed and unkempt. "They killed him, Jaime. Tyrion and his wife. It was just as he'd warned me. One day when I thought myself safe and happy he would turn my joy to ashes in my mouth, he said."

"Tyrion said that?" Jaime had not wanted to believe it. Kinslaying was worse than kingslaying, in the eyes of gods and men. He knew the boy was mine. I loved Tyrion. I was good to him. Well, but for that one time ... but his brother did not know the truth of that. Or did he? "Why would he kill Joff?"

"For that murderous little bitch." She clutched his good hand and held it tight in hers. "He told me he was going to do it. Joff knew. As he was dying, he pointed at his murderer. At our twisted little monster of a brother." She kissed Jaime's fingers. "You'll kill them both for me, won't you? You'll avenge our son."

Jaime pulled away. Cersei was asking him to kill his brother and a child, a child that he had sworn to bring to Lady Catelyn. Now she was his little brother's wife.

"He is still my brother, and his wife is a child." He shoved his stump at her face, in case she failed to see it.

"And Joffrey was your son!" Cersei raised her voice.

"I must know more of this. Of how it happened."

"You shall," Cersei promised. "There's to be a trial. When you hear all they did, you'll want them dead as much as I do."

Sorry just a filler chapter.