Absolute folly, that's all Tyrion could make of the Lannister position. In under the course of the week the Lannister position as the most powerful House was turned on its head. Jaime was defeated at the battle of Whispering Wood where Robb Stark killed and routed the entire Lannister host of twenty thousand men in which only half returned to Tywin's camp. And of course, there was the infamously named 'Day of Terror' in which Cersei tried to kill the Tyrells, she was stripped of her position as Regent and held in the Maidenvault to await trial.

There was no doubt in his mind that Cersei would leave the trial with her head still on her shoulders and only a slap on the wrist as punishment. Cersei always gets what she wants sooner or later… The alliance with the Tyrells and Baratheons was tenuous at best, they could turn cloaks any day and the war would be lost; for wars were decided at secret gatherings with quill and paper and not on the battlefield. He hoped neither Stannis nor Robb Stark understood that but he knew better than to presume.

The men who sat at the war tent seemed to agree if their glum looks were anything to go by. Harys Swyft was always one for pointing out both the obvious and the pointless. "Perhaps we should sue for peace, we have both Lord Stark and his daughters perhaps we could come to a… arrangement."

Tywin spoke to know one in particular his voice unusually calm but Tyrion could sense the storm underneath, "They have my son…"

Tyrion cleared his throat and then responded to Harys, "We've tried making peace, but then my sister decided to kill the heir to Highgarden and antagonized our allies."

Lord Crakehall spoke then, "Is it true about Stannis?"

Ser Kevan looked up from his hands his eyes baggy and dark. He had lost his son due to Cersei's madness and he had sent his other two sons Martyn and Willem into the political cesspit that was Kings Landing. "It's true, he's proclaimed Cersei's children bastards and himself the rightful monarch. Several Houses from the Stormlands and Crownlands alike have turned cloaks and sail to join his host on Dragonstone."

Another silence ensued as Ser Harys spoke, "Perhaps we should ride for Kings Landing? We can assimilate there with the hosts from the Stormlands and the Reach." He said it as if he were saying something clever which earned glares from Tywin, Tyrion, and Kevan alike.

Tyrion's response was curt and aggressive, "And leave the Westerlands open for plunder? The Tyrells and Baratheons are at our necks how can we not expect them to backstab us as soon as their hosts reach the capital?"

The Lannisters were originally destined to win the war against the Tullys and Starks but now they could be betrayed at any moment. The king had to overflow the vacant council positions with Reachmen and Stormlanders alike. Lord Estermont was named the new Master of Whisperers. Lord Mace was named Master of Ships, and Lord Tarly was named Master of War. The King and council had not decided on a Regent but it would likely be Renly or Tywin.

After a moment Tywin spoke, "Out all of you," The men rose loudly from their chairs, their armor making their leaving seem a bit ridiculous. Tyrion gladly hopped out of his seat as his balls began to itch and he knew Shae would be remiss not to relieve him, "Not you Tyrion."

Of course.

Tyrion approached his Lord father at the head of the table. His face was rigid and stressed but it was not tired. I wonder if he ever sleeps? Or if he'll ever need it… Tyrion plopped himself down to where Kevan sat just moments ago and reached for the wine before Tywin picked it up and filled his goblet for him.

"You were right about making peace with the North, we could have made peace even with Jaime captured but because of the foolishness in the capital we now look like fools. Which would have given us more time to deal with Stannis."

He finished pouring and crumpled up the piece of parchment that described the events unfolding in the capital. "But now, madness, madness and stupidity." Tywin eyed him closely, his once icy eyes softening a little as he studied his son, "I always thought you were a stunted fool, perhaps I was wrong."

Tyrion swallowed a sip of wine, "Half wrong, I'm new to strategy but unless we want to be surrounded by two armies, it appears we can't stay here."

"No one will stay here, Ser Gregor will head out with five hundred riders and set the Riverland on fire from God's Eye to the Red Fork. The rest of us will regroup at Harrenhall." Tywin sipped his goblet, "You will go to Kings Landing."

"And do what?"

"Rule, you will serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You will keep the Tyrells and Baratheons on side and in their place, and you will make sure that, that boy King doesn't find himself into an early grave. And if you get a whiff of treason from any of the rest of them, Baelish, Pycelle-" I shall quite like to see Little Fingers head on a spike, A Lannister always pays his debts. Memories of his stay in the Eerie came to him how his legs ached raw from continuous riding. Freezing his balls off in the cold northern weather. Tyrion cursed himself for not bringing proper clothing, he remembered clutching to the halfcape Tommen had given to him for dear life in the hopes he did not freeze to death.

He had spent many nights in the steep sky cells always aware that he could roll off to his death and how he was always threatened with the prospect of being pushed out of the moondoor by Jon Arryns boy. All that suffering because the Mockingbird told a lie…

"Heads, spikes, walls," Tyrion finished earning a nod from Tywin. "Why not my Uncle, why not anyone? Why me?" Tyrion asked genuinely baffled.

"Because your my son.", In other words, I'm the only one who can fix this… Kevan was politically astute but he was a better strategist and Tywin needed him here which Tyrion could accept as he was desperate to escape the North, Vale, and the Riverlands and their cold Northern weather. Only to spend the night in a Southern brothel again… The ones in the North simply were not doing it for him but Shae had proved herself a worthy substitute. So much like Tysha…

Tywin stood from his seated position and made to leave the tent but before doing so he turned around, "And one more thing, you will not bring that whore to court. You understand?" Tywin left without giving a chance for Tyrion to respond as he pondered and drank deeply into his goblet.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak Shae into his retinue. Tyrion found that there was spare space in the carriage carrying the supplies for their journey after the first few days of hard riding they arrived at Harrenhal where Tywin seemed pleased to ride his horses into the ground with his haste. After a day's rest at Harrenhal Tyrion and his retinue of a dozen men separated from the Lannister host.

Tyrion's only regret was not being able to take the Mountain tribes with him. They were his by rights, but his father didn't seem to agree saying that he was fighting a war while Tyrion was simply riding into a city. A city, Tywin forgot to mention that was happy to see Lannister heads on spikes and was high possibility of becoming a battleground itself. He would miss Shagga son of Dolf and Chella daughter of Cheyk.

But Bronn and Shae were good company and so were the dozen Lannister men who traveled with him. He would have to make as many friends as possible lest he die for a bag of gold, something Bronn didn't agree with saying he would end up becoming ' the most popular dead man in town.'

The riding was long, longer than it should have been as they did a far detour to get off of the Kingsroad which was littered with bandits and Houses that had declared for Stannis. The muddy roads didn't help with their travels nor did the roads packed with people fleeing the fighting in the Riverlands. A number of septons were fleeing away from their burnt synagogues and going to the capital to seek refuge. The Septons along with the maesters attended to the injured men, women, and children and prayed over them. A heartwarming yet utterly useless sentiment.

He broke his fast on Shae and dined with the knights in his retinue he especially enjoyed the company of the Payne boy. Podrick was his name, the boy was five and ten and had a good head on his shoulders. He was to be his squire and the boy, Tyrion noticed seemed to be exceptionally prone to overserve and would always be there to clean Tyrion's boots and help him with his armor. That was a squire's job, of course, to be there for whomever they squired for, but Tyrion could not help but think that Pod watched him sleep. Tyrion could not believe the boy shared blood with Ser Ilyn the King's Justice. Pod was an exceptionally shy and courteous boy and Tyrion could not help but jape with the boy and even considered giving him a night with Shae but decided against it.

No one sleeps with Shae but me…

Tyrion while still going on a detour made sure to ride fast to the capital before things could get too out of hand. Though he rode nowhere around the speed at which Tywin or his former captor Lady Catelyn rode. If Lady Catelyn led the Northern armies against Tywin the war would be fought and decided within a single fortnight with the way they seemed to ride their horses into the ground.

Tywin would no doubt put down the Houses that had risen against them so foolishly in the Crownlands, to establish a clear line of supply and communication with the capital, but until then Tyrion had to contend himself in doing a far-flanking maneuver and traveling down the Goldroad. After a few days of hard riding down the Goldroad, they encountered a large retinue of men.

As the retinue grew closer, Tyrion was able to make out the red and gold banners of House Lannister the retinue was easily four times as big as theirs. Why this must be my dear cousins Martyn and Willem!

Tyrion was not disappointed to see at the head of the convoy two boys with blond hair they both beamed at seeing him. "Uncle Tyrion," Willem said, "I heard you were captured by Lady Catelyn." Although Tyrion was only their cousin they preferred to call him Uncle, a sentiment he did not mind. By their jovial and non-glum faces, Tyrion surmised that they did not know of the events in the capital nor of their older brother's death.

"I was dear cousin, so many stories so many new places. But I much more enjoy being a free man."

Martyn turned his attention to the badge of the Hand of the King placed proudly on Tyrion's armor, "You're the Hand?"

"Yes," Tyrion answered fiddling with the badge his father had given him, "Why that's another interesting story…" After a moment of silence, a thought occurred to him, "Why haven't you made it to Kings Landing as of yet?"

Addam Marbrand turned his head, "Ser Kevan gave us orders to dine in the halls of our Lords, we've set a leisurely pace since we've left the Westerlands."

Clearly… Tyrion thought. "Well I think it best that we join our travels, we should get to the capital as soon as we can."