A/N: Slight difference time wise. Instead of Robb attacking Tywin to free time to capture Jaime, Jaime was captured beforehand and now he is being a thorn in Tywin's foot. The reasoning will be explained in a later chapter so I won't spoil anything yet.

When he had first walked into his fathers camp, he knew something was very wrong. Whether it was the way the army was set up not in a unified way, or the fact that everyone seemed so damned tense he could not say. Not a person speaking a word as he strolled in with Bronn right behind him whistling that same annoying tune he had for days now. Tyrion liked the sellsword well enough, but that was about it. He owed him his life and now he was indebted to him, and a Lannister always pays their debts.

Chella son of Cheyk was watching everyone as they moved as did Shagga son of Dolf, it not missing his gaze both leaders were avoiding one another. Whilst many of the Mountain Clans shared similarities, he had come to know that Black Ears and Stone Crows never shared anything with one another. Yet now they had joined forces and therefore were sharing their fighting men with one another. Their hatred of anyone who ravaged their lands and his promise to give them the Vale of Arryn once Lysa Arryn and Catelyn Stark had been dealt with for her insult of keeping him prisoner.

No one takes a Lannister prisoner and faces no repercussions. The Riverland's were already being set alight by his fathers men or so he had heard. Many bannermen and their fighting men being butchered in every way imaginable alongside many smallfolk who were caught in the crossfire. The fact that not one person had spoken to him yet despite now being deep within the army confirmed what he had thought.

Something was very wrong, and he would find out what.

How long it took him to find his father he could not say. Tywin glaring at him like he always did which deepened even more when he took in who was with him. What a sight it must've been. A Lannister willingly spending time with a lowly sellsword and the leader of the Stone Crows and the Black Ears respectively. Despite the dislike, his father spoke to them courteously before saying he needed to speak to him alone. This caused him to frown as he made his way towards the back of the tent which was sectioned off, seeing his uncle Kevan there but no one else.

"Tyrion."

"Uncle, it is wonderful to see you."

The sarcastic drip in his tone was not missed by Kevan who dared a tiny smile before allowing a mask to come over him again. He'd never liked him, seeing him as the man who had killed his lovely goodsister, yet he did respect him. Which was more than most saw him. The dwarf of Casterly Rock, the Imp of Lannisport, the Half-Man. Hundreds of insults he'd had hurled at him growing up that had once cut deep but now bounced off the armour his skin had become with ease.

"Is someone going to tell me what is going on?"

"The King is dead."

For a moment, his fathers words didn't register but when they did, his eyes widened in surprise and not even attempting to hide it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Joffrey is dead."

For a split second, utmost joy rippled through him. It was a miracle in itself his vile nephew would not survive long with his ways, but so soon? And how had he died? Many people wanted him dead whether out of revenge, the thrill of it, or to try and wriggle themselves into a much higher position.

"How?"

It was Kevan who answered this time.

"He was pushed onto the spikes surrounding Maegor's Holdfast."

"Are we sure he did not just simply fall? Those walkways are narrow, uncle."

Plus it would be hilarious if he had died in such a way. The King who died falling from a walkway onto spikes. That would make for a fun song to be sung throughout the Kingdom's.

"Do not sully our name with such a ridiculous idea. To answer your question, a servant saw what happened. The red wolf has claws and they came out to play."

It took a while for the words to register yet when they did, Tyrion had no idea what to say. Surely not? Sansa? Sansa Stark? The little girl who was so besotted with her dashing Prince she had willingly lied to protect his arse instead of her sisters only a few moons before? The one with her head in the clouds believing life was a song and she was the Florian?

"I highly doubt that father- "

"Your sister confirmed it. And she's not in the Red Keep. She fled with Joffrey's dog and all attempts to locate her have failed."

Well gods be damned. Stunned was the only way to put it. But then the horrifying truth hit him like a brick. Joffrey had Eddard Stark beheaded- that had reached him no problem as everyone seemed to know. And now Sansa Stark had killed his vile nephew in what could only be a moment of madness and seeking revenge. Revenge for what had happened to her wolf, revenge for what had happened to her father.

"Jaime is also a hostage to Robb Stark. The boy is not as green as we hoped he was."

The wolves had come out to play. The words tasting sour on his tongue because it meant he was agreeing with his father and Tyrion misliked that ever so much. Yet it was the only thing that could describe the madness that was occurring. With Joffrey dead, Tommen was King yet he was far too young to rule. He'd need nearing a decade of regency. What a wonderful thought, his darling sister being the Queen Mother and Queen Regent at the same time. Cersei had always dreamed of being Queen and now she was two times over. Albeit, at the loss of her son, yet it had happened.

"And what are we to do in retaliation?"

"What are you to do in retaliation?"

'

The question caused him to stop in his movements as he eyes his father and then his uncle, letting his confusion cross his features before he reached for one of the flagons of wine there was in the tent. Tywin not hiding his distaste as he watched him just as everything he did cause him to screw his face up. The shame of House Lannister, the man who had killed the beautiful and loved Joanna Lannister in birthing bed. The man who had come out a mutant that if he did not have a name would've been thrown into the waves and all knowledge of his existence wiped.

"I'm afraid I do not follow, father."

"I raised an imbecile- "

"Oh you did. She sits on a throne ruling in Tommen's name."

That only caused his face to burn red in anger but he caught Kevan trying to hide a small smirk at his retort. Cersei was Tywin's lioness and Jaime was his golden son. He was the deformed son, and it was something he was forever reminded of.

"We need to secure loyalty with the Stark's. You will ride for Kings Landing and get it in Cersei's head that Tommen is henceforth betrothed to Arya Stark- "

Tyrion laughed aloud at that, the sheer thought amusing him greatly over how ridiculous it was.

"Good luck with that, then you'll be two grandsons less and not simply one. You forget this is the girl who beat Joffrey in a fight with a stick."

He laughed for what felt like forever, only stopping when he had run out of breath and no more noise was coming from his lips. Taking a long gulp of his wine before getting serious.

"Cersei will never agree to such a thing. She'll be out for blood with all of House Stark with what has occurred. Nay, all ties with House Stark are cut. By extension of this, we cannot hope to gain anything from the Vale and the Riverland's. This leaves us four Kingdom's- six if we include Dorne and the Iron Islands that we can look for matches with. We have two heirs we can use, Tommen who will be King when he reaches majority, and Myrcella. Use them to our advantage."

"And how would you propose we succeed?"

There was still anger in Tywin's voice, but there was a curious lilt in the way he spoke. Thinking long and hard on what could be done.

"We don't necessarily need the men but more men wouldn't cause any harm. We should extend courtesies to the Tyrell's. Entrap the roses and we secure most House's in the Reach out of loyalty to their overlord. Mayhaps even the Hightower's as they have the second largest army of the Reach and are in command of the Citadel. This would give us insight into many castles through Maester's writing to the Citadel. However, we do need to factor in we need loyalty from all sides so searching for a match for both from the same Kingdom is useless."

"Say what you are thinking, you imbecile."

And back to the insults, enjoying getting under his skin so much. Swirling the wine in his glass and speaking the words.

"Enquire having Tommen betrothed to Shireen Baratheon and Myrcella to Willas Tyrell."

Quiet. So quiet it got. To the point if a leaf fell to the ground he would probably hear it. An inquisitive look coming onto his uncles face as he turned to Tywin awaiting a response.

"Stannis Baratheon is in open rebellion- "

"Yet if we make it that his daughter should become Queen- "

"There is a slim possibility of securing the Stormland's. Or at least a part of them given what Renly is doing."

They must've spotted his own confusion as Kevan spoke.

"Renly has declared himself King and has wed the Rose of Highgarden."

He spat his wine out at that, waiting on him saying that was a jest but the words never came. Well, that was that plan thrown out the window then. Pacing around the tent as he thought everything through. They had an army of a similar size to the Reach but Renly was a green boy. There was not an ounce of leadership in the boy who done nothing but prance around with his antlers dripping in every kind of finery he could find. Whether that be rich velvet clothing, the finest forged weapons one could get in the absence of Valyrian steel, gemstones and gold ornaments around his neck, wrists, and fingers? Head now too apparently. And then it struck him. Eyebrows creasing as he thought it through. Yes, that may just work.

"Quentyn Martell is not betrothed, is he?"

"Last I heard, no."

His father was thinking it through, looking to him not solely with hatred now which was probably the best he could ever hope for. When Tyrion looked to Tywin he saw his father, yet when Tywin looked to Tyrion he saw a monster. That's how it had always been and that would never change. Something he had long since accepted.

"They'll not accept that- "

"They won't accept it if it is the only condition, father. Bargain with Prince Doran."

"Bargaining with that fool is worse than pulling teeth."

True, but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him there.

"Offer Prince Oberyn a place on the council, award Trystane and Arianne suitable matches and they may consider acceptance."

He stopped speaking after this, letting the words echo around them and sink into their skin as they thought it through. Perhaps the terms were too generous and would be taken as grasping for support, but House Lannister did owe a tremendous debt to House Martell. Courtesy of his father, even if he never outwardly confirmed he had been behind the brutal murders of Princess Elia and her babes. Dorne had never forgiven them and likely never would but that was something that could be tackled at a later date. And then they spoke. For hours into the night brainstorming on what to do and how to go about ensnaring the matches. Should they free Jaime, he would be awarded the hand of Arianne Martell. As for Trystane, they had yet to decide on one. Only stopping when a scout rushed into the camp where he had promptly been ordered out of the tent where he went looking for Bronn. Finding the sellsword with a bunch of commoners and enjoying a wineskin together.

Yet dawn was approaching, and with this the whispers appeared. By the time they reached Tyrion they were less than a mile out and he cursed aloud as he went searching for his father and the Mountain Clan leaders. His father ordering him to go into the vanguard which angered him immensely because he knew why that was. His father wished him dead, had always wished him dead, and now he wanted him dead to take credit for what he had suggested. Tasting bile on his tongue once more but Tyrion was no fool. His father was not someone to cross under any circumstances, not even his own blood.

The vanguard he joined.

The wait was terrifying. Knowing that an army was heading their way and they had little to no preparation. Kevan's words ringing in his ears on how Robb Stark was apparently not as green as they had assumed. The horses broke from the trees then, running full towards them as he closed his eyes.

And then he felt a pressure on the back of his head, not having time to let this sink in before he fell. When Tyrion awoke, he was on a stretcher being carried somewhere. Wondering how in seven hells he had survived the vanguard and momentarily wondering if his father had stepped in to help him. He noticed him then, walking alongside the stretcher with a scowl on his face that was not his usual one.

"How many did we kill?"

"Two thousand."

The answer was sharp which confirmed his father was in fact angry at something.

"Was Robb Stark amongst them?"

"Nay, he was with his other eighteen thousand men."

If his head wasn't pounding, Tyrion may have laughed aloud. Oh yes, the wolves had come out to play. No one could deny such a thing now. Eyelids getting heavy as he was taken into a land of darkness.