Yes, the Jaime and Ned interaction at the end of last chapter happened a little earlier than I originally planned. Which is probably why it felt rushed to some of you. I wanted to pick up the pace a little bit to start getting into the conflict of the story.

Tyrion

The pounding on the door perfectly matched the pounding in Tyrion's head. He slurred to whoever it was to leave him the hell alone. While he was more adept than most at dealing with a hangover, he needed more sleep than the few hours he had gotten in order to deal with them properly. Instead of leaving like he commanded, whoever it was barged into the room. He needed to give a reminder to drunk Tyrion to always lock the door before passing out for the night. Blearily opening his eyes, he could barely make out one of his male cousins, Willem he thought, though he couldn't be too sure since they all looked the same; long golden hair and tall frames. His cousin walked to the windows and pulled back the heavy curtains, letting in the morning light.

"What are you doing?" Tyrion groaned in pain, closing his eyes against the bright light of the morning sun that made his head throb.

"Uncle Tywin demands your presence," the cousin he thought was Willem stated.

"What is so important that it can't wait?"

"A raven came in the night from King's Landing. It's about cousin Jaime."

With effort Tyrion sat up. Had something happened to his brother? With a proper look he was able to see he was right, it was Willem, distinguishable from his twin brother by his more assertive mannerisms. No doubt sent by his father, Uncle Kevan, who rightly realized that Tyrion wouldn't have allowed a servant to wake him and that Martyn might have been scared off.

"What did the message say?" Tyrion demanded.

Willem shook his head, blond hair swaying with the motion. "I don't know, I wasn't told. I was just told to get you immediately."

"Get me the servants, I'll be along shortly."

Willem stepped out of the room and after a few seconds a pair of servants entered. Tyrion had one get clothes for him to change into, while the other filled a bowl with water, which he proceeded to dunk his face into. He used a cloth the servant handed to him to dry his face and the front of his hair before changing into the clothes that had been laid out for him; red and gold as if tailors hired by House Lannister had no other colored cloth and thread to work with. Tyrion knew he likely still smelled of wine, but if his father wanted him so early in the morning the man was just going to have to deal with it.

Willem was waiting outside his door when Tyrion made his way out of his room ten minutes later. As soon as Tyrion stepped out into the corridor Willem started walking and Tyrion did his best to fall into step with his cousin's longer strides. His family often forgot he had much shorter legs.

"Where is my father?" Tyrion asked.

"In his solar with my father."

There were few people whose opinion Tywin Lannister respected and near the top of that list was his younger brother Kevan. It couldn't have been easy growing up in the shadow of one who loomed as large as Tywin Lannister did, but rather than try to escape his brother's shadow, Kevan had instead built himself up in the shade of it.

Like his other uncles, Tygett who died of the pox thirteen years ago, and Gerion, who disappeared while sailing into the Smoking Sea seven years ago, Kevan was far kinder to Tyrion than his own father had ever been. When Uncle Tygett had died of the pox, Tyrion had wished it had been his father who was taken instead. Hell, sometimes he still wished that.

Tywin Lannister's solar was a large room with a long wooden table in the middle of it. Hanging on the walls were tapestries that had been painstakingly woven to show each of the seven kingdoms in expert detail. Various chests and shelves were against the wall, as well as a writing desk covered in parchment, quills, and ink wells.

Sitting at the head of the long table was Tywin Lannister, his face looking even more sour than normal. Sitting ever dutifully at his right hand was Kevan Lannister. When Tyrion entered his father's face seemed to sour even more, which he didn't think possible. Uncle Kevan at least gave him a small smile, even if it did nothing to mask the grim look that was on his uncle's face.

Willem bowed his head and left the room, having fulfilled his duty.

"I can smell the wine on you from here," his father said with a scowl.

"Forgive me father, but I wasn't given any time to properly freshen up," Tyrion said, doing his best to ignore the throbbing headache and keep his voice pleasant. He settled into one of the chairs at the end of the table away from his father. "I was told you received a message in the night about Jaime. Is he alright?"

"The gods mock me, giving me one son who lacks even the most basic of common sense and the other…" His father didn't finish the sentence but the look he gave Tyrion was enough for him to understand what was implied. Yes, Tyrion had heard that he was a punishment from the gods for his father's hubris many times.

"Your brother," Uncle Kevan said, leaning forward with a frown, "attacked Lord Stark the other day."

Tyrion felt his mouth drop open in surprise. He quickly shut it, knowing his father would judge him for such a reaction. Jaime had always been rash but attacking the Hand of the King? That was not rash, that was stupid.

"Did he say why he would do such a thing?" Tyrion asked.

"The letter is from your sister, who claims ignorance as to the reasoning," his father said, his voice indicating he didn't fully believe Cersei's claim of innocence. "Lord Stark is grievously injured, five of his men were killed, and your brother has fled King's Landing. Sixteen of the idiots I left at King's Landing to guard your sister assisted in the attack, seven of them are dead and the other nine have been imprisoned. The King has issued a warrant for Jaime's arrest. Likely we'll be receiving a raven from him shortly saying as much."

"King Robert won't do anything to Jaime," Tyrion said, wondering if he believed what he said. Jaime was the brother of the Queen, the son of the most powerful bannerman, and a member of the Kingsguard. Surely all of that would be enough to spare Jaime, right?

Kevin gave a slow shake of his head. "If Lord Stark dies from his wounds, there's no telling what Robert will do. The King loves the man more than his own brothers. Even if Lord Stark survives, attacking the Hand is serious business, especially as a member of the Kingsguard. Jaime will be lucky if he's allowed to take the black."

Tywin slammed his hand on the table at Kevan's words. "I will not let my heir be sent to the Wall like a common criminal!"

The words stung Tyrion. Jaime was a member of the Kingsguard and had been since he was sixteen years old. He had given up his right to inherit when he took the white, making Tyrion the heir of Casterly Rock by all rights of succession. He always knew his father had hoped that somehow, someway Jaime would be able to leave the Kingsguard but to hear him say out loud that he still viewed Jaime as his heir, it hurt more than Tyrion thought it would.

"We need to find him, before the King's men do," his father stated. "We can hide Jaime away until this entire situation is resolved. If he survives, Lord Stark will want his vengeance, but despite being a man who loves war, the King is a man who hates turmoil. I'll offer to forgive some of the crown's debt for a pardon. He'll be eager to take it to keep House Lannister happy, and Lord Stark will have no choice but to accept the King's decision."

Tyrion didn't think it was going to be as simple as his father thought, but he didn't dare to voice that opinion. He licked his lips, dreading the answer to the question he was about to ask. "And what if Lord Stark dies?"

His father and Uncle Kevan shared a look but neither answered the question. Tyrion supposed Uncle Kevan's earlier words were the answer, that the best Jaime could hope for in that situation was to be allowed to join the Night's Watch.

"I am sending out groups to search for Jaime. No doubt he will be making his way home to Casterly Rock. Others will likely assume the same. It is imperative we get him before anyone else does. Messages will be sent to House Lydden, House Lefford, and House Swift as well."

House Lydden was seated at Deep Den, which guarded the path of the Gold Road through the mountains. That would be the fastest route from King's Landing to Casterly Rock. House Lefford was seated as the Golden Tooth, which guarded the path of the River Road through the mountains. They would likely be tasked with sending men to search the Riverlands. House Swift was seated at Cornfield, which sat at the base of the mountains to the south where the Westerlands bordered the Reach. If Jaime wanted to avoid the major roads and the more densely packed Riverlands, traveling through the open land of the northern Reach and around the southern base of the mountain chain would make sense. It seemed his father assumed his vassals would be more loyal to him than the crown, and there was a high chance he was correct.

"You will be leading one of the search groups down the Gold Road. The men are being arranged. You leave this afternoon."

Me? Tyrion wanted to ask, but he held his tongue. His father didn't want his orders questioned, he wanted them followed. If Tyrion couldn't offer any insight into the situation, then anything he had to say would be viewed as useless.

So instead he gave a stiff bow. "Of course father."

Tyrion made his way out of his father's solar. He would need to have things packed for the trip like extra clothes and wine. Better he bathe now since it might be a few weeks until he has the chance again.

A few hours later he found himself in Lannisport at one of his favorite taverns. There he approached a tall and thin man with black hair and black eyes. The man sat at a table, tearing apart a roasted chicken with his bare hands. Tyrion had originally met the man three nights ago in this tavern. They had played a few games of dice, all of which Tyrion had lost. He had come back the next two nights to challenge the man, and each night he had lost more and more coin. The man was definitely cheating, Tyrion had just never been able to figure out how. He had eventually given up and returned to Casterly Rock to brood over his losses.

"I see you're putting my money to good use."

The man looked up and gave a wolfish smile at the sight of Tyrion. "Imp, are you here to lose more money?"

Tyrion shook his head. "No, I've been cheated out of enough gold, thank you."

"You no proof," the man said.

"No, wish that I did. I'm here to hire you, Bronn."

Bronn's eyebrows raised in surprise. He leaned back in his seat and shoved a chunk of chicken into his mouth. "Hire me?" he asked around the mouthful of food.

In their conversations they had while Tyrion was getting swindled, Bronn had stated he was a sellsword who had been traveling Westeros the past few months looking for work. Tyrion didn't know how the man was with a sword, but he was at least cunning enough to cheat Tyrion, something many a man had tried in this very tavern and none had successfully gotten away with before.

"My brother has done a foolish thing and is on the run from the law. I am being sent to track him down with fifty men, men loyal to my father. I want at least one man loyal to me." Tyrion looked Bronn over. "Or at least one loyal to the coin I provide."

"This isn't an attempt to shake me down cause I cheated is it?"

"At least you finally admit you cheated. If it was something like that I would just do it, I certainly wouldn't try to trick you beforehand. I am a Lannister of Casterly Rock, do you think anyone here would dare stop me?"

Bronn acquiesced to that, knowing Tyrion spoke the truth. "Alright then, as long as the coins good, consider me hired."

"The coin is good, my friend. Finish your meal. I'll get one of the serving wenches to draw you a bath. I'd like you to not smell like piss for at least the first few days in my service."

Bronn's eyebrows furrowed as he smelled himself.

Their party rode east down the Gold Road, pushing their horses to their limit every day. Because of his stature, the riding was harder on Tyrion than the others but he kept his complaints mostly to himself. He didn't say anything to most of the men but voiced them at night to Bronn over cups of wine, but Bronn was different. The other men were his father's men, committed to his house. He needed to make sure he had their respect, for more than just his name, and it was harder for him to earn it due to being born a dwarf. He didn't care if Bronn respected him as long as the man respected the gold coin in his pouch.

They reached Deep Den in ten days. Lord Lydden had sent his own riders along the Gold Road to see if they couldn't find Jaime first. They were ordered to ride from Deep Den to the bridge where the Gold Road crossed over the Blackwater Rush and to wait for twelve days. If Jaime was indeed traveling along the Gold Road there might already be a chance Lord Lydden's men had found him and were escorting him back now.

Jaime had fled King's Landing about twelve days ago, though it wasn't known if he had fled on horse or foot, or if he had originally been on foot if he had found a horse to ride at some point. Walking would take at least three weeks just to reach the bridge over the Blackwater Rush. Tyrion and his men would likely be able to reach that bridge in ten days from Deep Den with their horses. And if it happened to be Lord Lydden's men had not seen Jaime, then Tyrion would arrive at the bridge a few days before they would be heading back to Deep Den, and then he and his men could take up the watch.

So after a short stop at Deep Den to exchange information with Lord Lydden, Tyrion had urged his men onwards again. He spread them out to the north and south, to widen their field of view. If Jaime was half as smart as Tyrion hoped he was, his brother would realize the danger of his situation and would do his best to avoid the road.

They rode nine days before a group of horsemen with the Lydden sigil came riding toward them. Tyrion felt his hopes soar as he saw them. They were riding back a few days early, surely that meant they had found his brother. That meant his brother was safe and he'd be able to chastise him for his stupidity the entire ride back to Casterly Rock.

"They've been in a battle," Bronn noted, seeing things Tyrion did not.

Tyrion felt his hopes drop as he took a good look at the men who approached him. Some of the men leaned forward on their horses, others gingerly held certain body parts. At the back of the group the riders weren't sitting upright in the saddle but rather thrown over the saddle like a sack of potatoes, nothing more than corpses. And not one of them had the golden hair or cocky smirk of his brother.

"What happened?" Tyrion demanded when the Lydden men drew closer. "Did you find my brother?"

"We did," one of them answered but he offered no further explanation.

"Where is he? Tell me everything."

They had camped on the western side of the bridge for nine days as their lord had commanded. On the evening of the ninth day, as the sun was setting they saw Jaime as he had been approaching the bridge from the east. He had at first been unrecognizable because his clothes were ripped and torn, and his hair greasy and covered in dirt. He was on foot and he was alone. The word had spread amongst the men and they were saddling their horses to ride out and meet him, when riders had approached from the north.

Those riders from the north were men of Lord Lolliston, a Riverlord whose Tower of the Rush sat several miles to the north of the bridge. They must have had men watching the bridge because it was the quickest path from the capital to the west. Jaime, upon spotting the horsemen running him down, had tried to run but had been quickly surrounded hundreds of feet from the bridge itself. Lord Lydden's men had rushed to confront the rivermen demanding the release of their liege lord's son into their custody but the Lolliston men refused, declaring the capture of Ser Jaime as demanded by the King.

Swords had been drawn and it had quickly broken out into a fight. A fight they likely would have won if Riverland knights coming from a tourney in the Reach hadn't chosen that moment to arrive upon the bridge, see the fight between the Westerlands and the Riverlands, and rushed to their brethren's aid. Men had been killed on both sides, and Lord Lydden's men had been driven off by the Rivermen's superior numbers. Jaime had done the best he could to assist in the melee of horsemen, killing three of the Rivermen himself, but had been knocked into by a horse from behind, and had lost his sword and had the wind knocked out of him, which had made him easy to capture.

They had gone back to their camp to heal their wounded and rest for the night before riding out the next morning, earlier today, to head back to Deep Den to let their lord know of what had transpired.

Tyrion pinched the bridge of his nose at the story. Now, not only had his brother attacked the Hand of the King, but blood had been shed between the West and the Riverlands over the entire thing. As if the situation was not already a nightmare. His brother was a prisoner of a minor Riverland lord and would likely be turned over to the King shortly. None of this was going the way his father hoped. He wondered how the man would react.

"You two," Tyrion said, pointing at two of the men he traveled with. "Ride hard for Deep Den. This news must be sent to my father at once."

The two men turned their horses and kicked the beasts into a gallop. Tyrion watched as they rode off with a sinking feeling in his stomach. To Tywin Lannister, repairing the reputation and legacy of House Lannister had been his goal, and he had viewed Jaime as an extension of that goal, even if Jaime refused to be a part of it. What would his father do to keep this part of his goal alive? Would he defy a King, like he had done all those years ago at the tail end of Robert's Rebellion?