Chapter 106

Tyrion settled into his chair in the small council room, awaiting the arrival of the Queen. It had been a long Winter, but the ground had thawed and the flowers had just begun to bud and soon it would be Spring. He was almost surprised that he had survived the winter, holed up inside the Red Keep with Margaery Tyrell and Lord Varys lurking about.

He'd expected the Queen to deem the spider responsible for the assassins sent after Jaime and to send him far away for disobeying her orders. But, in the past three years, nothing had happened and the Queen's advisors had remained as they were. Tyrion glanced over at the eunuch, wondering what he was planning. Whatever it is…he believes he needs Jaime dead. Tyrion could not figure out why Varys would care whether Jaime lived or not, now that he was in the Free Cities and showed no signs of returning.

The Queen had called this meeting outside of the council's normal schedule, and Tyrion had not a clue as to why. As Hand of the Queen, I should know why we are meeting today. She should not be keeping me in the dark and summoning me to meetings I know nothing about. As he fumed about how weak it made him look, he realized he was acting like Lord Tywin, and immediately calmed.

Tyrion wondered if perhaps the meeting were for something as simple as the Queen wishing to begin preparations for her coronation feasts and tournaments, now that the weather had turned. Margaery will insist on wagons and wagons of roses traveling North from Highgarden for the occasion. She'll want to remind the Realm that she'd from a wealthy, noble family.

Tyrion was surprised by it, but he and Margaery had gotten on well for the past three years, though he was still on his guard around her. He knew he was fortunate that their babe was a girl. The Tyrells would not dare make a move against him until Margaery birthed him a son – assuring them control of Casterly Rock. A letter had arrived from Jaime with news that Sansa had birthed twin boys. He had noticed a tightness in his lady wife's jaw after he received the letter and she had returned to sharing his bed with a vengeance. Yet, it seemed Tyrion was not destined to father a son. As often as Lady Margaery shared his bed, she had not conceived another child.

Tyrion gazed outside the council room, and saw that the Hound was waiting for him. Dutiful as always. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Sandor Clegane had never actually agreed to serve as his personal guard. Instead, every morning, he would announce that he would remain at the Red Keep for one more day. It was the same ritual. Over and over again. It seemed to Tyrion that it was Clegane's way of denying that he was serving another Lannister. For her part, Lady Margaery seemed amused that her husband felt the need to have a personal guard in their own home, but she said nothing.

Perhaps Lord Varys instructed her to remain silent.

He moved his eyes across the table, landing on the man himself. Why is Varys still here? Why has the Queen not executed or banished him? Tyrion wondered if he would be able to have a real marriage with Margaery – if he would be able to find some way to love her – if he did not worry that the Spider was influencing her every move and that every word he spoke to her was reported back.

Tyrion's thoughts were interrupted by the Queen's entrance. Ser Baristan and Ser Jorah followed, standing behind her like sentries. There was a hard look in her eyes that made Tyrion uneasy. She already knows that I'm in communication with Jaime, and turns a blind eye to it. What could have her so furious?

"Your grace –" Tyrion began, hoping his voice did not betray his unease.

"One moment, Tyrion. There is a matter of great importance that I would like to discuss with the council." She glanced over her shoulder toward Ser Barristan and nodded. He placed a sheaf of papers in front of her. Letters and ledgers and Tyrion knew not what else. "Proof. Of your treachery. More than three years of treason," she ground out, fixed her hardened gaze on Lord Varys.

Varys paled. "What…Your grace, whatever do you mean? I have only ever done what is best for your reign."

Her eyes narrowed and she removed three letters from the pile in front of her and tossed them in front of Varys. "Did I not explicitly tell you that the Kingslayer was to be left in exile with his wife and child? That I wanted the war between the great houses of Westeros to end? Yet there are two different orders to assassinate Ser Jaime Lannister. And one order to assassinate his wife, Lady Sansa."

Tyrion paled at the thought of Sansa being killed, seemingly on orders of the Queen, knowing what losing her would do to Jaime. "Did Jaime prove too difficult to kill?" he spat, unable to hold his tongue. "Did you hope that the murder of his wife would send him back to Westeros, bent on revenge?" Jaime would not have rested until the Queen was dead. Not even if he destroyed us all in the process. "You wanted a war, didn't you? You knew the Westerlands would rise up against the Queen if Jaime were killed. Just as the North would if Lady Sansa were harmed."

"They were in no danger," Daenerys said, reassuringly to him. "All of Lord Varys's messages – no matter how mysteriously they were sent, whichever chambermaid or whore carried them – were intercepted. The orders never left the Red Keep. Not after the first attempt on the Kingslayer's life. Not after the first betrayal."

"My betrayal?" Varys asked incredulously. "Your grace, you have allowed a Lannister to plot against you from within your own council. You made Tyrion Lannister your hand, but he only bides his time until the moment he can bring the Kingslayer back to Westeros. This man, who conceals that the usurper king, Tommen Baratheon, lives in exile along with the Kingslayer."

Tyrion felt his blood run cold at Varys's disclosure. My head will decorate the gates of the Red Keep by nightfall. He feared not only for himself, but for Jaime, Sansa and Tommen. And his own young daughter. Tabytha was only three, but Tyrion feared that the Queen would punish her for being a Lannister. Just as my father massacred entire families for any perceived betrayal.

To his amazement, Daenerys tilted her head to the side, as if his disclosure were no surprise to her at all. "As I recall, Lord Varys, you were present when Lord Tyrell presented the usurper 'King Tommen' to us. Why did you not speak up? You knew the boy as well. Lord Tyrion is a relation to the boy. So I know his reason for remaining silent – to protect his nephew. What was your reason?"

Tyrion chanced a glance at the Queen, and saw that her full attention was on the eunuch, who had no explanation for his failure to inform her that the boy who was executed was an imposter. That Tommen was alive. Daenerys continued speaking, making it clear that she expected no answer. "Ser Barristan will escort you from the Red Keep. There is a ship waiting to return you to Asshai. If you ever set foot in Westeros again, or if you send someone here on your behalf, I will have your head." Tyrion had not heard such iciness in the Queen's voice for quite some time.

Tyrion watched as Varys was hauled to his feet and removed from the Red Keep. Once he was gone, he noticed that the Queen had turned her attention to him. She motioned for the rest of her small council to leave them, and he felt gripped by fear again. Now it's my turn. He was not expecting the words that she spoke.

"Your reservations about your marriage to Lady Margaery have proven correct. My sources have reported that she has been found speaking with Varys on many occasions. She's conspiring with him –"

"No," Tyrion interrupted urgently. "My lady wife does not conspire with Lord Varys. She has proven true to me and our daughter. And to the Realm. On my honor, your grace, Margaery is not in league with the Spider."

The words fell from his lips so easily. He didn't know why he was saying them, when he knew they were untrue. Margaery has plotted against me from the moment we were betrothed. Yet I protect her. As he convinced the Queen of his lady wife's loyalty, all he thought of was his daughter and how much she loved Margaery. She should not lose her mother as Jaime and I did.

…

I'm starting to feel my age, Jaime thought wryly as he beat back Tommen's attack. He'll be better than me soon.

As they practiced, and Jaime watched Tommen's expression, it was like he was looking at his younger self. Before he joined the Kingsguard and realized there was so much evil in the world. Before he realized there were no true knights. Jaime had come to take great pleasure in training Tommen. As he watched his son slowly improve – Jaime remembered what it had been like for him, when he had first learned to fight as a boy on the training grounds at Casterly Rock. He remembered the excitement and the pride he had felt, learning that he was so very good at something. He saw that in Tommen. The little boy that Cersei had proclaimed soft and clumsy had grown into a strong young man who was just as skillful with a sword as his father.

Jaime was relieved to see that Tommen was tiring as well. Perhaps I'm not quite so old. Jaime, at least, had the advantage of knowing how to conserve his energy – to pace himself – while Tommen fought hard and fast from the start, not planning for a lengthy battle. The boy was becoming sloppy in his weariness and Jaime was able to get the better of him. He saw frustration on the young man's face as he lost the match. He'll beam with pride when he finally bests me.

Jaime wiped the sweat from his brow. Though he and Tommne wore only linen pants – no tunics – it was sweltering out, the temperature in Lys had increased substantially in the past few weeks. He knew it meant that Winter had ended in Westeros. "You did well," Jaime said sincerely. Tommen smiled with pride.

"Come, both of you, and have something cold to drink," Sansa called from across the terrace, where she stood, overseeing the younger children's play. The kitchen staff had just brought a tray of sweet lemon cakes and a pitcher of lemonade. Tommen strode over and took the cup from Sansa's hand, murmuring his thanks, as he walked to his bedchamber to bathe, though he promised his young siblings that he would return and play with them.

Jaime walked over to Sansa and accepted a cup from her gratefully, drinking half of it in one gulp. He saw her watching after Tommen as he left them. "He's grown so tall and handsome. So like you," she said, smiling. "Watching the two of you together…it's like watching one person. The two of you look so alike…move so alike." She turned her eyes to Jaime then. "I like watching you. My golden knight."

He smiled, considering her for a moment before pulling Sansa to him and kissing her full on the mouth. "I love you," he whispered, before kissing her again.

"Father!" Julianna cried out, scandalized.

"You're in trouble now, Ser Jaime," Sansa murmured, sitting down at the table. Julianna was only six years old, but there were times she acted as though she were three times her age. A few months earlier, she had begun addressing Jaime and Sansa as "Mother" and "Father" and became quite concerned about conducting herself as a "proper lady." I blame Sansa for our daughter's preoccupation with propriety. Jaime was usually able to break her adult façade and bring out the little girl in her, making her dissolve into giggles.

"Father, it's not proper to kiss in public," Julianna said with authority. Jaime chuckled and scooped his daughter up into his arms.

"We're not in public, lioness. This is our home."

"But we're here," she explained patiently, gesturing to her little brothers. "You should only kiss Mother when it's just the two of you. It's private."

"Is that so?" Julianna struggled to be put down, no doubt believing it undignified for her father to hold her in such a manner, as if she were still a babe, but Jaime did not relent. Sansa shook her head and Jaime knew what she was thinking. He never was able to let anything go where his daughter was concerned. He enjoyed his debates with Julianna – seeing how her mind worked and pushing her boundaries to see how she would react. "Your mother is a proper lady and she had no objection to receiving my kisses."

Sansa smiled to herself as she poured some cool lemonade for the twins. Rickard carefully climbed onto her lap and sipped his drink, while Gerion properly sat beside her. Rickard had not wavered in the affection he had for Sansa as a babe – he loved his mother above all others and always wanted to be near her - while his twin was far more independent.

"I kiss Mama," Rickard said quietly from his place on her lap, tilting his head up to look at her. She smiled and kissed his forehead, running her fingers through his hair as he returned to drinking his lemonade. Their younger twin was the most solemn and quiet of all their children. A little wolf.

"That's different," Julianna lectured. "Father's a grown man. A knight. You're a baby."

"We're not babies. We're little boys," Gerion said, speaking with just as much authority as his sister, who sighed in exasperation.

Sansa met Jaime's eyes and smiled as she rubbed her hand over Gerion's shoulders. When they were alone, he and Sansa would talk and laugh about the emerging personalities of their children. If Gerion weren't as quick to laugh as his namesake, Jaime would have been terrified. He's so like Lord Tywin at times. Gerion had become relentless in his questions about when they would return to Casterly Rock, so Jaime could be Lord of the Rock. At times, Jaime expected his three-year-old son to lecture him about the legacy of House Lannister.

"Perhaps I love your mother too much to worry about what's most proper," Jaime said finally. Julianna looked at him questioningly. She looks so like Sansa. More and more each day. Sometimes Jaime would sit and study the children he'd created with Sansa, marveling at how much they looked like the two of them. "I want to show her and tell her whenever I can that I love her. So she'll always know. I love you very much, too, lioness. I don't ever wish for you to doubt it." Her outrage immediately vanished and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Father," she whispered. He kissed her cheek and set her on her own two feet. She sat down beside Gerion, delicately sipping her own cup of lemonade.

Julianna tried to act as a grown lady, but she was still a little girl. Jaime was reminded of this on the nights when she was fearful and snuck into their bedchamber. She would always go to Jaime's side of the bed and gently touch his shoulder and whisper for him to wake up. She always waited for an invitation to join them, but Jaime would simply scoop her up into his arms and hold her tightly. She would allow him to baby her, resting her head on his chest and falling back to sleep, cocooned between he and Sansa.

"It's hot, Mama. Can we swim?" Gerion asked hopefully.

Sansa nodded. "Go find Pia and ask her to help you with your swimming clothes. And wait until I'm with you – or Tommen or your father - before you go in the water."

Gerion smiled, taking Rickard's hand and running off with him towards their bedchamber. Julianna followed, promising to "watch them."

"She is quite the little mother hen," Jaime said, chuckling as he sat beside Sansa. "Alone at last." Jaime nuzzled against her neck and began placing kisses across her shoulders and neck.

"Jaime, the children will be back any moment."

"Then we shouldn't waste a moment," he murmured, smelling her sweet scent. "Even Julianna would approve of this…we're alone." As much as he loved their children, Jaime also loved being alone with Sansa and simply enjoying the company of his wife. Not only making love to her but talking to her and holding her. He found it hard to believe that they had been married for nearly seven years. He'd always believed that no woman would know him as well as Cersei, but he was wrong. In many ways, Sansa knew him far better than Cersei had. She was more interested in knowing him than Cersei had ever been and he and Sansa had spent hours talking about the past and what they wanted for their future.

He felt Sansa carding her fingers through his hair. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

He met her eyes and smiled. "I was thinking…how much I love you and the life we have here with our children." Jaime kissed her once more before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to their bedchamber to change into swimming clothes for their afternoon with the children.

…

Next Chapter: We'll meet Tyrion's daughter