Author's Note: I apologize for the small lateness of this chapter. My Internet was down right at posting time. It just figures...

As always, thank you guys so much for supporting this fic. I greatly appreciate all of you reading, favoring, and reviewing this work! It makes writing it so much easier.

Catzrko0l has come through again and done a wonderful job betaing this chapter. All mistakes are mine!

Chapter 73

Tywin II

He'd had enough of his son's foolishness. Baelish had warned him against letting his son in on the scheme, but now Jaime was ruining his plans without even knowing them. He had allowed Jaime to indulge long enough in the power that came with being Hand of the King, but for his own good it was time to reel him in.

Although Ser Osmund had been unsuccessful in either marrying or killing Lady Brienne, the duel had still done its job of driving a wedge between Jaime and the woman he undeservedly favored. She had been hurt by the scratch and by Jaime's words. He'd give the woman credit for her stoicism, but the hurt that had been there briefly was undeniable. If the feelings had ever been mutual, Jaime had just crushed them like a bug beneath his boot.

But that had been the only thing that had gone right the day before. Then, when overseeing court, Jaime had foolishly sent Kevan with that good for nothing Ser Stevron Frey to deal with the Ironborn raids. Just like that, his most trusted adviser was on a task that would send him to the other side of the country and they had set out in the morning.

Tywin had very nearly burst down Jaime's door to speak with him about changing the command and persuading him to send Ser Edmure back as was supposed to happen. But for all of Jaime's kingly behavior, he still had the tendency to act like a spoiled child and he refused all visitors for the rest of the evening.

Then again, perhaps Jaime hadn't wanted to be seen having one of his seizures. He had that pinched look that he got when a headache was building and Tywin had it on good authority that a seizure usually followed. These seizures were an unfortunate weakness in his otherwise perfect son. Despite his current frustrations with Jaime, Tywin was still pleased with the way Jaime acted and carried himself.

But Jaime was still nowhere near on par at playing the game as he was. Few were and that fact was the only thing that separated Tywin's plans from disaster. He would have to be eased into the plan, but Jaime was his son. A Lannister. He would do right by his family, especially once he learned how his beloved Targaryen king had betrayed him.

King Aemon is a devious bastard, I'll give him that, Tywin thought with some grudging respect. The boy had made some clever moves. Forging a letter to frame Baelish and using it to get Lysa Arryn to confess had been a surprising stroke of brilliance. Somehow, King Aemon had been aware that Baelish was a threat and he had laid down the plans early to have him removed. The bastard had been fully aware he was putting a murderer on his council.

All the easier to seize Baelish at the right opportunity, Tywin thought. Despite the clear planning that had gone into the moves, it seemed Aemon couldn't quite get the extra leverage he needed to actually bring Baelish before the court for a trial. That was his greatest weakness. He was bound and determined to adhere by the law. With his hands so tied, it made catching shadows that much harder and Baelish was able to slink enough ahead to keep out of the bastard's clutches.

Then the boy had foolishly left his work half-finished and trusted Jaime to oversee his kingdom. Granted, Jaime had done a good job ruling in his stead, but that he should ever relinquish the throne again to that wolf pup caused Tywin's blood to boil. That throne was the Lannister's, by right of conquest. It should have been Jaime's. He killed the Mad King after all. He saved the realm and his reward was to remain a glorified bodyguard to that disgraceful slob, Robert Baratheon, Tywin thought with some fury. That Jon Arryn thought he, Tywin, should be grateful Jaime wasn't sent packing to the Night's Watch had made him want to kill the man. There was poetic justice in Jon Arryn having been poisoned by his lady wife.

The Starks had enjoyed a brief moment in the sun with the ascension of the Stark bastard. But it was time that ended. While King Aemon had proved himself cunning, the rest of the Stark pack had the intelligence to fill a thimble. The Stark heir, Robb, had proven adept in training, but in little else. Lady Catelyn Stark had failed to teach her children how to navigate the politics of Westeros and Tywin would ensure that they suffered for it.

Tywin stalked after Jaime after the duel with Ser Lyn Corbray. The foolish knight had dared challenge his son to prove his worth and had failed. Although the win was expected, it was a far different fight from what Tywin was used to seeing from his son. Jaime had a tendency to toy with his prey before the pounce. Although it could be intimidating behavior, it was juvenile and risky. That he was still using the technique at his age was infuriating, but Jaime stood atop the other knights in the realm without peer.

In this fight, however, Jaime had set aside the toying. He used his superior strength and agility to stomp the man into the ground. It had been quick and merciless. With the shedding of this long standing habit, it spoke to Tywin that he was ready to step up and take his place as the head of House Lannister when it was time.

And none too soon, Tywin thought with bitterness. Jaime would be sorely needed in the coup that was just a short time away. The pieces were nearly all in their place and it would only be a matter of time before the trap was set. All that was left was bringing Jaime into play.

Tywin climbed up the steps to the Tower of the Hand. He was in no hurry. Whether Jaime wanted to hear from him or not, he would listen. His squire, Podrick, was missing from the front, so Tywin merely glanced at the Lannister soldiers who stiffened in his presence. He pounded on the door.

"Jaime, we must speak."

The door opened, but Jaime had turned away. "Good day, Father. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Tywin felt his back raise and he ground his teeth. No matter the formal language, the tone was vicious and mocking. Just like their last conversation, Tywin had to quash his fury. It pained him to acknowledge that he had less authority here in this room.

"Congratulations on your duel," Tywin replied in as even a tone as he could manage.

Jaime snorted. "As if that was ever in doubt." He was carefully peeling the armor off, but he bothered to glance up at Tywin with a suspicious glare. "That cannot be your only reason for being here."

"You need to recall your Uncle Kevan and the Lannister forces you sent to the Westerlands."

"And why would I do that? The whole lot of the Freys are weasels and I need someone level and wise to head up the efforts in securing our shores against the Ironborn. I know Uncle Kevan is up to that task."

"He is needed here," Tywin barked. "Call him back."

Jaime undid the latches for his breastplate and lifted it over his head to throw on the bed. His expression was haughty and uncompromising. "I still haven't heard a reason." At that moment, there was a knock on the door. "Enter," Jaime called.

The squire opened the door bearing a silver tray that included a goblet of wine and cold cuts with cheese. The boy briefly glanced at Tywin before hurrying over to place the tray on the Hand's desk.

"Thank you, Pod," Jaime replied as the boy scurried back to his post in front of the door.

"We will need him in the coming war."

"What coming war? It's not like you to be so vague, Father. Do you mean in the coming war against the Ironborn? Because I assure you that will take place once the king returns. I don't think I need to remind you that the Ironborn put the Lannister fleet to flame when they last decided to go on the offensive."

"That won't be necessary," Tywin said.

Jaime chuckled as he poured himself a goblet of wine. "Have you broken a deal with the Ironborn?" His mirth faded away as he continued to stare in his father's stoic face. "What have you done?"

"I am doing what's right. For the kingdom, for our family."

"You don't give a shit about the kingdom, so don't pretend now that this isn't about anything other than our family," Jaime replied.

"On the contrary, I am taking action to spare the kingdom from another mad Targaryen."

Even Jaime appeared stunned by this revelation. "You dare speak treason about our king? In front of me? His Hand? Father, you can't be serious."

"If there is one who has committed treason, it is your boy-king that you serve," Lord Tywin replied as his frown deepened. "You speak for a king who has betrayed your trust. You think you have his ear, but the Starks laugh at your back. He has betrayed you and he has betrayed the realm."

"You speak nonsense, Father. I suggest you leave before I am forced to take action against you," Jaime said with a sneer.

"It has been uncovered that the quarantine placed on the Eyrie was a false quarantine," Tywin pronounced and he felt some satisfaction as Jaime paused. "This supposed Aemon Targaryen pulled it out of thin air. He forged a letter framing Lord Petyr Baelish for the death of Lord Jon Arryn and used it to coerce a confession out of Lady Lysa, so that he could remove her from power and allow the Stark ally Lord Yohn Royce to assume temporary mantle so that this 'king' could count on the Vale as allies."

Tywin allowed himself to smile at the fear in Jaime's eyes. He had clearly stunned him. "As you can see, your 'king' is nothing but a clever ruse to hide the Stark's bid for power."

Jaime shook his head. "I fear you have lost it, Father. The Stark's bid for power? The same Starks who live and breathe honor? You think Aemon, who has been raised by the Starks all of this time, has the gall to make such a move? And that Lord Stark would approve it?"

"There are a multitude of witnesses. All of the suitors vying for Lady Lysa's favor were locked up in the Eyrie with her. Now that they've been freed, their singing can be heard loud and clear. I will not stand by and allow another Targaryen to plunge this kingdom into chaos and madness. And I can't imagine you will either."

Tywin's frown deepened as Jaime continued to be stunned. It is shameful how little you still know, he thought. Jaime had shown great aptitude for the game so it was simply a matter of training to prepare and bring him up to the same level. Once the Starks were removed, they would have plenty of time to amend that.

"How do you intend for this to happen? Aemon still has the North, the Riverlands, the Reach, and the Vale. The Westerlands aren't beloved either."

"Those rumors that have been going around the Red Keep of the dragon deliberately murdering Robert and Lord Royce to cover his tracks have created unease. Not to mention the other rumors regarding Cersei's starvation."

Jaime's face contorted with anger. "Cersei reaps what she sows, regardless of any rumors."

"Be that as it may, he is starving a woman of nobility and stature. At the very minimum, it is an insult to the Lannisters that she be treated so poorly," Tywin said. "It is vile and ignoble to treat a woman of nobility with such callous disregard.

"The Vale will follow our lead when it's cemented that the dragon had a hand in Lord Royce's death. They were already wavering before. Why do you think Ser Lyn is intent on taking the Knights of the Vale back?"

"That's still not enough," Jaime replied. "You will throw the entire kingdom into war and the Westerlands do not have a large enough force to safely take on five of the seven kingdoms, including Dorne."

"After learning of the crimes of the Starks, do you think the Reach will be content for their beloved Lady Margaery Tyrell to remain a wife to Robb Stark?"

"How do you expect to control the North? They are protected by the Neck. It took Aegon the Conqueror flying a dragon to make them bend the knee," Jaime said, shaking his head mutely.

"I'll worry about that," Tywin said. He was pleased when he saw Jaime's eyes narrow in suspicion. Good. That should keep him guessing, he thought. He would agree with Baelish that not everyone needed to know the scope of the plan. That was kept to him and to a lesser extent Petyr Baelish. He had just received word the night before that Lord Roose Bolton had taken Winterfell with little trouble. All of the children, including the second Stark son, were now held by Lord Bolton. Once Robb Stark was dead, they would control the Stark heir. Lady Catelyn had taken the third Stark son with her on her visit to Riverrun, but as he was a mere babe, his threat was minimal and the Riverlands were far easier to reach than if he had remained in the North.

For once, Jaime was quiet as he absorbed all of the information. Tywin studied him. Since the first revelation, Jaime's expression had not varied much. Chief among them was fear, which Tywin was not expecting. His son had faced down Mad King Aerys and fought against the Smiling Knight. Tywin hadn't been sure Jaime even knew the meaning of fear, but he could see it now.

"What you're proposing is risky. You could end up at the top, but all the other kingdoms will be clawing to tear you down. And if you don't get to the top… your name will be burned in infamy. It may be burned there regardless," Jaime said in a numb voice.

"We have the most powerful army. With the Reach as our ally, there would be no one who could stand against our might." For the first time since he'd arrived, Tywin poured his own goblet of wine and held it up in a test. "This is our legacy. We were born kings. It is time we showed the realm how kings rule."

Tywin raised the goblet to his lips and he heard Jaime ask, "When?"

"As soon as Kevan returns."

"I'm not recalling him."

Tywin glared at him once more. "Did you not hear me?"

Jaime huffed, but remained resolute. "If we are to show the realm how well we rule, it would look foolish for me to change my mind at this late hour. They're already gone, Father. They will remain gone."

Tywin ground his teeth together. He dared not supersede his son's rule for the time being, not when it was crucial to maintaining order once the coup was over. No matter. With our forces and the Reach combined, the other armies in the Red Keep will crumble just as well, Tywin thought and he felt the self-confidence well up inside of him.

"Very well. It won't be long now. Keep doing as you have and it will all fall into place." With that, Tywin didn't even wait for a dismissal before he left the Hand's solar.

|-The Dragon's Roar-|

Jaime XXII

Silence reigned in the room upon his Father's swift exit. Jaime swayed where he stood, stunned by the revelations that had fallen from his father's mouth. This is far more extensive than I could have ever imagined, he thought. He was used to experiencing attacks on an open battlefield or viewed from a map. However, his father and Lord Baelish had conspired right beneath their feet and, like vines, they had crept into the foundation of Aemon's kingship and weakened it. It was on the brink of collapse.

And it sounded like they were mere days or weeks away from his father toppling it. Aemon had sent a letter that arrived mere days ago with the date of his departure, having just cast off from Dorne. He did not have a moment to lose.

Jaime went to the door and opened it to find Podrick waiting. "Find my brother Tyrion and tell him to meet me under the hearttree in the godswood."

"Yes, m'lord," Pod said and rushed down the stairs.

Jaime followed him and made a stop at Healer David's room. It had been several weeks since the explosion and somehow the healer had pulled through. Once the healer was on the way to recovery, Jaime demanded updates every week. His apprentice, Julian, reported that David was healing at a remarkable rate, but that he would carry some ugly scars for the rest of his life. Once the healer was lucid, he reported a persistent burning sensation beneath his skin and Julian suspected it was lasting contamination from the wildfire that would eventually go away. Even still, David remained abed and wasn't likely to return to work for another two weeks.

Jaime checked in on the healer. His face was still bandaged, but there was no missing his irritability when Jaime demanded yet another person from the Shepherds bring Ser Lyn Corbray his meals. He had to make sure Ser Lyn wasn't poisoned like Robert Baratheon.

Then he was back on his way.

Jaime let out a breath as he entered the godswood and the chirping of the birds and the rustling of the leaves in the wind calmed him. He had to remind himself that the calm was only apparent on the surface. He stopped to allow his eyes to rove the area, searching for 'little birds' lurking in the greenery nearby. The ability to see sounds made it easier to spot anyone with hot feet or restless hands.

He started forward and went slowly as he scanned the area. A rustling in a bush caught his attention and he sauntered up to it. He saw movement that suggested something much larger than a squirrel. Putting a hand on the hilt of his sword, he stepped around the bush and saw a woman freeze like a deer with a hand resting against the nearby tree. A basket of berries rested at her feet.

"Picking blackberries are you?" Jaime asked with a curious tilt of his head.

The woman smiled unsteadily and said, "Yes, Lord Hand. Fresh fruit for tomorrow's scones." Her voice was yellow with shakiness, but otherwise truthful.

"Any particular reason why you're picking from a bush without any berries?"

She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

"Get out," Jaime snarled at her. With a frightened gasp, she hastily grabbed the basket and scurried toward the exit. He scowled after her and then did a more thorough check of the surroundings to ensure there weren't anymore servants lurking.

"Jaime?" Tyrion's voice could be heard through the woods, but Jaime ignored him until his search was done.

When he finally turned towards the hearttree and stepped into the clearing, he noticed Tyrion staring at the remnants of the rope he had tried to hang himself with. When he heard Jaime, he turned and glared at him in mock anger.

"You were the one who asked for me," Tyrion said.

"I was flushing out 'little birds.'"

"I hope they flitted their way out of these woods. It can be dangerous for something so defenseless. There's already been more than one victim of a lion's bite today, it'd be a shame to add more. Is this about what father had to say?"

"Yes," Jaime whispered. "I know you're smart, Tyrion, but I am going to need you to be serious and handle this with great care. It will mean our lives if you don't."

Tyrion's gaze darkened and he drew his mouth into a solemn frown. He hesitantly nodded. "Castamere?"

"Much worse. Far worse than Castamere."

Tyrion shuddered. "I am going to need a drink after this."

Jaime grew angry. "Just don't let it cloud your judgment. You were always good at talking, so now you need to be better at keeping your silence."

His brother sighed in annoyance, but seemed to think better of a retort. "So, what are Father's dastardly plans now?"

"He intends to overthrow Aemon and eliminate the Starks."

Tyrion stared at him as if he had turned into a dragon and he himself swayed with the news. "I don't understand. How in Seven Hells does father plan to do that?"

With another glance around the area, Jaime dropped to his knees and whispered the details as loudly as he dared. With each new detail, Tyrion appeared to grow tenser until he was openly grinding his teeth. Once Jaime finished, Tyrion said, "I would call it clever were it not so short-sighted. Father never was good at taking things lying down."

Tyrion covered his face with his hands and kneaded his forehead. "I should've seen it. I spend quite a lot of time listening to court gossip. So few people realize I'm within earshot. I tried to correct those rumors regarding Robert Baratheon and Lord Yohn Royce, but it's like a poison. It's already seeped into the minds of many and won't be dislodged. They would speak it louder if they weren't so afraid of you." They both fell into contemplative silence and then Tyrion asked, "What do you intend to do?"

"I will stop him."

Tyrion snorted. "Stop, Father? You may as well stop the tide from coming in. I think you'll have better results."

"We can't let him win, Tyrion," Jaime whispered. "He must not win this."

Tyrion was quiet as he considered his brother with a grave expression. "It's too late to simply undo this. You're talking about fighting father."

"Well, I would prefer to arrest him, but I'm sure it will come to fighting."

"You're one man and he controls the army. The most powerful army in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Not anymore. I sent Uncle Kevan away, remember?"

"But then there's the Reach. If father has ensnared them, there is nothing stopping him from taking the throne."

Jaime ground his teeth. "There has to be a way. I have to somehow reach the North, the Riverlands, and the Vale armies. They're still Aemon's allies and they're still here."

"I know you have better standing than a year prior, but I doubt you could reach them. Maybe someone else could?" Tyrion tapped the side of his face impatiently as he seemed to think about it.

"The problem is, I can't be seen speaking with Aemon's allies or father might suspect something. If we're finally going to put an end to his conspiring, we have to catch him in the act. We have to arrest him." Jaime itched to pace, but he was deliberately keeping his voice down to prevent eavesdroppers. He could swear that he saw movement out of the corners of his eyes, but the colorful sounds showed nothing more than the breeze rippling leaves. He had swept the other people from the area.

"Wait," Tyrion began and he paused.

"What?"

"The Tyrells may not be as far gone as we think."

"How do you know?" Jaime asked impatiently.

"Lady Brienne."

Jaime narrowed his eyes and he shook his head. "I'm not following."

"Before Lady Brienne's duel with Ser Osmund Kettleblack, Lady Margaery summoned her for tea. Alas, the details were lost under a hearty rendition of The Bear and the Maiden Fair from the Tyrell's fool, but I think it was a positive experience for Lady Brienne. Earlier in the day she had seemed taken aback by the proposal and appeared dazed. On the day of her duel, did she look confused? I think Lady Margaery gave her important information. We know father doesn't particularly like Lady Brienne, but Lady Margaery spoke warmly of her after the duel and sent her flowers and sweets to aid in her recovery."

Jaime frowned. "It's a courtesy. Ladies do that sort of thing."

Tyrion looked at him wryly. "Don't be daft, brother. This is Lady Brienne we're talking about. Apart from Lady Dacey and Lady Maege, no one else has bothered sending recovery wishes to her."

"Lady Margaery is to be a lady paramount of the North. It's only polite."

"She would not be sending flowers to a lady from a lesser house of a different kingdom unless she expected Lady Brienne to be of equal status eventually; a potential ally."

Jaime paused and scowled at Tyrion. "You think based on that that the Tyrells may be at odds with Father?"

"I've been around Robb Stark and Lady Margaery Stark enough to know the two are smitten with each other. You have to realize, the Tyrells would only agree to this scheme with father if it means Lady Margaery becomes queen."

"But she's already been deflowered."

"She's not quite yet with a Stark pup. I believe ladies can control who sires their children, so if they were committing wholeheartedly, she could be taking that herb. But I think Lady Margaery likes things the way they are."

Jaime gritted his teeth. "We cannot guess at this! I have to know that the Tyrells are still Aemon's allies. It could even be that Lady Margaery is unaware as her grandmother arranges it around her."

Tyrion scoffed. "Lady Margaery is quite an adept player of the game for one so young. Gossip says she's spoken of her support in both you and Aemon. She has even come to your defense."

That caused Jaime to pause. "Has she now? We have to be certain."

"Leave that to me. I'll speak with her," Tyrion replied.

Jaime narrowed his eyes. "Do you think that's wise? Have you ever spoken to her before?"

"Just a few times. Pleasantries while walking through the garden and the occasional conversation about a book. I play Cyvasse with Lord Willas, so I have been seen in her company plenty of times."

"Very well. You can't botch this. The kingdom depends upon it."

"I won't fail brother."

"I'll speak to Addam Marbrand. He controls some of the Lannister forces. We may be able to count on him."

"That sounds promising, but did Father mention when the coup was going to happen?" Tyrion said and his voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke.

Jaime thought about it. "He said 'soon.' I think they're about ready, but they're waiting for the best time. Father wants every advantage, so I can't see him springing it during the day where the guards could see him marching into the city with the army a mile off. When's the next full moon?"

"About a week thereabouts. I'd have to look at the tables, but pretty sure that's it."

"If the night is clear then that's the best time to strike."

Tyrion nodded vaguely. "You are the commander, not I, so you would know best. Before I leave, shall I forward a note to Lady Brienne through Lady Margaery?"

Jaime felt his mouth go dry and hot blood rushed into his face. He abruptly turned away from Tyrion.

"Yelling at Lady Brienne was hardly called for, brother. It's not her fault she was attacked when she had gotten the 'yield' that ended the duel."

Brienne's hurt blue eyes were burned into his memory. Knowing her, his words had been far more injurious than the sword that had sliced her arm. Whatever progress he had made towards cracking the shell she had constructed around her heart was in tatters. "She almost died. I couldn't—I wouldn't." He cut himself off before he could finish and winced at the way his voice had wavered. Tyrion couldn't know that losing Brienne would have shattered his very will. He would return to being a living ghost once more if he lost her again.

"Kettleblack proved yesterday that he isn't worthy of the title of knight. You can start making your amends by stripping him of that, should he live."

Jaime's mouth quirked into a smirk. "Still alive then?"

"He's wavering for now. I admit, one clean stab is impressive, even for you. Ser Lin Corbray must not have seen the duel yesterday or I doubt he would've been so brave at court," Tyrion said and there was amusement in his tone.

"How's Brienne?" Jaime asked.

"The maesters patched her up in a trice. She is resting in her rooms as the maesters insisted. You should do something. Send her flowers."

Jaime vehemently shook his head. "Flowers are not the sort of gift she would appreciate. And I...I can't send her something so overt." He clenched his jaw and glared off at the side.

"Father…" Tyrion mumbled and nodded. "You're concerned Father might do something."

"I know he'd do something. The Westerlands would receive nothing from the match. I don't want to give Father any further ideas to do to her what he did to the Reynes and Tarbecks."

"It's a valid concern, but then what are you going to do?" Tyrion stared at him with an intense frown. "You cannot simply pine away after Lady Brienne forever. She won't wait. It could be that she decides to lose the next duel."

With luck, brother, I won't have to do anything. Father will do it for me, Jaime thought and he had to bite his tongue to keep from speaking it again. He had to continue to be patient.

"I don't know," Jaime said instead. "But I intend to marry Brienne some day."

"Then say so." When Jaime still seemed unsure, Tyrion grew stern. "This is no longer the time to dance around it. You have to be honest with her, speak your intentions plainly."

"That could get back to father."

"If Lady Margaery's loyalties lie where I think they do, then it won't. Remember, she's quite skilled."

Jaime thought about it. It was simply about delivering a message to Brienne; nothing particularly crucial. He didn't have to inform her about any of the other happenings in the Red Keep and with any luck the expectations demanded of being Lady Stark would keep her on the straight and narrow with her husband. With some hesitation, he nodded.

"Good! Just give the note to me and I will see it gets to Lady Margaery."