Tyrion V

"It appears Robb Stark has lied to us," Tyrion said, looking up from the message he held. "My father's scouts report sighting thousands of Northmen marching down the Kingsroad to the Trident. It seems the Stark heir is not coming to King's Landing to swear his allegiance after all. Not unless he invited all of the North to join him."

"So the whispers that Lord Varys' little birds reported," Littlefinger looked at Varys with a patronizing smirk, "that Robb Stark was riding to White Harbor to take a ship, were wrong?"

"I did say they were rumors," Varys said, tittering. The man put a benign smile on his face. "Probably started by Robb Stark himself. Something his lord father would never have thought of."

"Whether Ned Stark would have thought of them or not is irrelevant. We now have an army of northmen -"

"Does it matter?" Joffrey asked, bored. "Northerners are savages. Grandfather will crush them like he has the Riverlands."

Small council meetings were infinitely easier when Joffrey was not attending them. Constant interruptions, no understanding of tactics and strategy, whether it be in war or in politics, and always preferring a cruel way forward over any other, made him a distraction and a deterrent. Tyrion pitied the realm that had to deal with this boy as King once his regency lifted. Oh sure his father would be able to bend the boy to his will while he was still young but Joffrey was too headstrong and stupid to allow that to last for long. Tyrion gave it five years at the most before Joffrey stopped listening to his grandfather.

Tyrion had to resist the urge to crawl across the table and slap his nephew. "It matters, your grace, because Stannis Baratheon has declared himself King and will likely march on King's Landing in the coming weeks. Will your grandfather march his force to King's Landing with a northern army bearing down on him?"

"We hold the boy's father hostage and he dares challenge us?" Cersei asked with a scowl.

"I doubt the wolf pup will make a move on King's Landing, not while we hold his father as the Queen so wisely pointed out. It seems most likely he'll be riding to the aid of the Riverlands," Varys said. "After all, Lord Tywin wages war against his mother's family."

"They imprisoned Jaime and refused to release him!"

Even without Joffrey, Cersei attended meetings more often than not and his sister thought herself smarter than she really was. She'd make suggestions that had little thought behind them and enough poor consequences that they shouldn't ever be considered. Except when Cersei made a suggestion, it was more of a demand on her part. Varys, Baelish, and Pycelle might be easily cowed by his sister's anger but Tyrion had been dealing with it his entire life. He would not shrink away from her like he had done as a child.

Another urge to crawl across the table and slap someone related to him was resisted. "They followed King Robert's orders, dear sister. Whether you like them or not, they were the lawful orders of the King."

The council was still two members short. Tyrion didn't think it was likely Monford Velaryon or Renly Baratheon would be coming back to King's Landing, not unless it was as part of Stannis' army. Tyrion had the idea to make Paxter Redwyne the Master of Ships and Mace Tyrell the Master of Laws. Not because he particularly liked either of the men, or that he thought Mace Tyrell smart enough for such a position, but they needed the allies, and after the Westerlands the Reach was probably the richest and most powerful of the seven realms.

Stannis controlled half the Crownlands and would likely have the Stormlands. Tyrion's father had made sure the Riverlands would never come to their aid, the North was likely marching against his father, and Tyrion severely doubted the Martells would ever send men to aid a Baratheon-Lannister king. Who the hell knew what Lysa Arryn, who was reported to be soft in the head, was doing. They needed the Reach and the levies it could raise.

"We need allies," Tyrion said, "and we need to increase the defenders of this city. I will send letters to Mace Tyrell and Paxter Redwyne inviting them to join the small council."

Cersei scoffed. "You would bring those idiots to sit on this council?"

"Do you have suggestions, your grace?" Arys asked, shifting forward in his white armor as he tried to stop an argument between the siblings before it started.

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had been busy observing the dozens of knights that had poured into King's Landing the past two weeks, each of them eager to be the seventh member of the Kingsguard. It wasn't the amount Tyrion had been hoping for but given three of the Kingdoms were actively at war against his family, not that the North had many knights to begin with, he figured it was the best they could get. None of them had impressed Arys so far, which meant they wouldn't impress Tyrion.

"Jaime will be -"

Tyrion couldn't help it, he broke out into a fit of laughter. His sister was so terribly predictable sometimes.

"You dare mock me?" Cersei demanded, green eyes narrowed and fingers digging into the arms of the chair she sat on.

Joffrey became a bit more interested in the meeting. Watching his mother and uncle verbally fight was more entertaining than any of the other things they had been discussing. Arys looked disappointed that his attempt to avoid this very thing had failed.

"Jaime is laying siege to Riverrun, doesn't have the patience to be a member of the small council, and is again the Heir to Casterly Rock." That last one still stung to say but he was getting better at hiding the pain from it. "We need allies and positions on the small council are some of the few bargaining chips we have to readily secure them."

Cersei opened her mouth but Maester Pycelle noisily cleared his throat.

"Your grace, my Lord Hand, perhaps it is best if we revisit this conversation. There are still more things to discuss."

As Cersei leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, Tyrion nodded at the old man. "You are right Grand Maester. Stannis Baratheon has declared himself King. He has one hundred and twenty-five of the ships in the Royal Fleet, leaving us with only forty. He also has the ships from the other Narrow Sea houses, plus Dragonstone. Maybe another eighty or ninety combined. What do we know of the rest of his forces?"

"Whispers have a Lysene pirate and his fleet lending his aid to Stannis. There are also 10,000 sellswords on Dragonstone. Companies such as the Long Lances, Maidens' Men, and Iron Shields make up the bulk of these forces," Varys answered.

"For the Crownlands, all of the houses loyal to Dragonstone, except House Crabb and their sworn houses, have declared for Stannis, as has House Wendewater and their sworn houses. Based on historical data, they will likely raise about 5,500 between them all. The Stormlands, if he raises all of his available levies, will be between 35,000 to 45,000 men."

House Wendwater was on the border of the Stormlands, where the Wendwater River emptied into Blackwater Bay. Their declaring for Stannis rather than Joffrey, since they were sworn directly to the Crown, was surprising. Though, it was the same thing for House Crabb just in the opposite direction.

"They dare defy their King!?" Joffrey's eyes were wide with anger.

Tyrion wondered if Joffrey knew exactly how much of an unlikeable prick he was, or if the boy was oblivious to it like his mother seemed to be.

"Renly Baratheon was already raising his levies on the orders of Ned Stark. Realistically, we could be under siege within the month," Tyrion said, ignoring his nephew. "Renly by land, Stannis by sea."

There was a knock on the door before it was pushed open by Ser Meryn, who stood guard outside. A servant came in, holding a sealed piece of parchment. Tyrion held out his hand, expecting to be the one to receive the message, but instead it was given to Varys.

One of his little birds.

Varys broke the seal and read what it said before letting out a nervous giggle. "I do not think we'll be under siege so soon, and I do not think Lords Tyrell and Redwyne will be accepting any positions on the small council, at least our small council. Apparently Renly Baratheon has also declared himself king. Rather than march on King's Landing, he has directed his army of the Stormllands to camp at Bitterbridge while he rides to Highgarden to take Margaery Tyrell as his queen."

Tyrion blocked out the outrage from Cersei and Joffrey, and the disbelief from Baelish that Renly would marry a woman, and thought about what it meant. On the one hand, the Reach and their hundred thousand levies as enemies was not a good thing. On the other hand, Renly was months away and Stannis would likely ride to the Stormlands to rally as many of the Stormlords as he could to his cause over his brother's. There was also a high chance the Baratheon brothers would fight each other before either made a move on the city. That would delay a siege by a couple of months to half a year. No matter which of the brothers attacked King's Landing first, they now had many more months than previous. It might not grow the size of the defenders of King's Landing by anything considerable but it would give them time to prepare.

It also meant he had to go in the other direction when it came to the small council positions. Rather than gaining allies, at least one of them would be used to affirm loyalty.

"I will offer the Master of Laws position to Lord Lanard Staunton," Tyrion said. "The Stauntons are the second largest Crownlands house, and it will ensure their loyalty."

Hayford was the largest of the Crownland houses but the head of that family was a two year old baby. While Tyrion was positive the baby would offer more wisdom than both Cersei and Joffrey, he didn't want to deal with the smell of shit filled diapers and spit up; the old man smell coming from Pycelle and the heavy perfumes from Varys were already bad enough.

"They don't need a reason, they will remain loyal to their true King as they're supposed to!"

"Ah yes, because that reasoning has worked wonders so far," Tyrion responded with a roll of his eyes. "Ser Arys, I would like you to work with Ser Jacelyn to increase the size of the Gold Cloaks and to train and arm them as best as possible. Another couple thousand at least. Every armorer on the Street of Steel should be working day and night. And there are plenty of knights in the city who could be offered positions of leadership within its ranks."

Both Varys and Baelish had told him that Ser Jacelyn Bywater was loyal to Ned Stark, but the man was damn good at his job. As long as there were no plots to break Stark free, and Varys was watching the one handed knight closely, Tyrion would allow the Commander of the Gold Cloaks to continue to hold his position.

"We will write letters to the loyal Crownland houses demanding they send half of their levies to help defend the capital. That should give us another couple thousand men."

"I will write to father," Cersei declared, no doubt trying to appear useful. "I will demand he bring his army here at once."

"A brilliant plan dear sister. Give father my regards."

For the first time since arriving at King's Landing, Tyrion decided to visit Ned Stark. The man was kept in the highest room in Maidenvault, where Daena Targaryen herself was sequestered away by her brother-husband King Baelor the Blessed. He had made sure the man was brought three meals a day and had some books to read, but he had no company except the Gold Cloaks who guarded his door.

When Tyrion arrived, he took a few minutes to catch his breath outside in the corridor. Even after climbing up and down the steps to his rooms in the Tower of the Hand everyday, he was still winded by all the steps he had to climb to get anywhere in this stupid keep. Tyrion knocked on the door and entered the room. Ned Stark sat at the only window in his room, a small opening with a view of the Royal Sept, and made no motion to see who had entered. He wore the colors of his house, gray and white, as Tyrion had his clothing brought over from the Tower of the Hand.

The first thing Tyrion noticed was that the man had apparently decided to stop shaving as his beard was growing thick and wild. The second was the cane that rested near the man. Stark's time in the black cells, about eleven days, had led to an infection in his wounded leg. The maesters had said that while the infection, and the fever it had brought, were both overcome, the damage had been done. Lord Stark no longer needed the wheeled chair he had been in, as his leg had healed enough for him to walk but that walking would be with a cane and a limp for the rest of his life.

"Lord Stark," Tyrion greeted.

The man didn't acknowledge his presence, just kept his gaze firmly on something outside the window. There was another chair in the room, closer to the door, which Tyrion sat in without preamble. He had a feeling Stark cared little for courtesies at the moment.

"My apologies for not seeing you sooner my lord. Neither my sister nor my nephew are the most competent of rulers, and there are many messes I had to clean up as acting Hand."

Stark didn't move or say anything. Just continued staring out the damned window. Tyrion thought he would at least want to know about the safety of his daughter, who he hadn't seen since he had been arrested almost a moon's turn ago.

Unless he already knew she had escaped the city.

But how could he know that? When the men had been arrested the fight with his household guard in the Tower of the Hand had still been going on. He doubted Cersei would have allowed anyone to tell him before he was thrown in the black cells, and he shouldn't have had any visitors while down there until Tyrion had him moved here in the Maidenvault. It was possible when he was brought either to or from the black cells someone had let it slip, but Tyrion didn't think it likely.

His gaze traveled to the open door where the two Gold Cloaks stood guard outside. Of course. Ser Jacelyn was loyal to Eddard Stark, and there were probably several hundred of the Gold Cloaks loyal to Ser Jacelyn. While Tyrion had ordered no one in or out of the room, that didn't stop the Gold Cloaks who stood outside from passing along information. He would have to have his own men stand guard from now on, at least until they had more Gold Cloaks trained who might not be so loyal to their Commander.

There was still some information Tyrion had that Stark wouldn't have heard yet.

"Your son marches down the Kingsroad with an army of northmen at his back." Stark's head turned slightly, to better hear what Tyrion was saying. "He marches to the Trident to meet my father in battle and my father is marching to meet him. Latest reports have your son a week past the Twins. I imagine in another two weeks we'll be hearing of the battle. Your son is what, fourteen?"

"Sixteen," Stark answered.

"So you do still have your tongue. For a second I feared Joffrey had removed it from your mouth."

This time all he got in response was a grunt. That was fine. He knew the topic that would get Stark talking, the man's children. They said all father's love their children, but Tyrion knew personally that was a lie. Still, you could at least say, "most fathers loved their children."

"How do you think your son will fare going against my father, Lord Stark? You know how ruthless a man my father is. The northern army will be crushed on the field and your son will be killed. Swear your loyalty to Joffrey and write to your son to quit the field while he still lives."

Stark took a deep breath and licked his lips. "We won many battles when we cast down the Targaryens. Your father won no battles. He sat at home for a year before marching on King's Landing after the war was all but over, saying he came in peace, and when the simpering old fool Pycelle convinced the Mad King to open the gates and let him in, he sacked the city. Greyjoy's Rebellion, it was Stannis Baratheon that crushed the Iron Fleet, and Robert and myself who came up with the strategy of taking the islands and keeps piece meal as we did, not your father. I hear so much about Tywin Lannister's military prowess but in the wars I fought, I've never seen it for myself."

"The Castameres and Tarbecks -"

"Two separate armies he outnumbered five to one as the stories go. My ten year old daughter could win with those odds," Ned said with a snort of disdain.

It was rare for Tyrion to hear someone talk so dismissively about his father. All his life it had been nothing but praise, mixed in with fear, about the type of man his father was and the type of things his father did. He wondered if Stark truly believed what he said, or if it was just a show for Tyrion's sake, to hide the fear he felt.

"You care not that your son marches to war?"

"My heart aches for my son and what he goes through but Robb is a man now, not a child for me to protect. He is wed, he is expecting a child, he has led the North well in my absence, and now he leads an army to defend his mother's family. I have never been more proud of my son."

"What do you think your son will do when he meets my father's army?" Tyrion asked. "Will he place his right flank against the river? They won't get flanked but they can be turned into the river itself."

"Are you asking me to help you guess Robb's strategies so you can counter it?" Stark asked, looking at Tyrion for the first time.

Tyrion gave a shrug. "It was worth a shot."

Ned Stark looked him over with his cold grey eyes and Tyrion felt as if he was being measured by the Father himself.

"Jon spoke highly of you in his letter after returning from Castle Black. He said you were one of the smartest men he had ever spoken to."

Tyrion doubted a bastard in Winterfell met many people, but he still found himself flattered at Jon's words.

"Jon is a good lad."

"He is, and he named you a friend of his. It is only out of respect for him that I am even bothering to talk with you. Your sister got no such courtesies."

"Cersei was here?" Tyrion asked in surprise. He didn't think his sister would make the effort to see Stark.

"Twice. Both times to demand my fealty to her son."

Now that made sense. If Ned Stark refused to swear fealty to Joffrey, and was being held prisoner because of it, that was not a good look to start Joffrey's rule. On top of the war in the Riverlands and his uncle declaring him a child of incest. Cersei had the power to solve at least one of those problems.

"King Robert has been missing for over a moon's turn," Tyrion pointed out. "Surely you can't still be holding out hope that he is alive."

"My possessions in the Tower of the Hand, what happened to them?" Stark asked, blatantly changing the subject.

"They've been placed in storage as we await you to see common sense and end this charade of ironclad loyalty to a dead king."

"I had borrowed a book from Grand Maester Pycelle that should be returned. It was by a Grand Maester Malleon. It was an interesting read, especially the pages on the Baratheons. Can you see it returned to him?"

Tyrion supposed this counted as Stark being subtle. "I guess it is the least I can do."

"Thank you my lord. Though I imagine your next few days will be too busy to do so."

Did Stark somehow know of not only Stannis declaring himself king but Renly doing so as well, or was he referring to something else?

"What do you mean?"

"Have you not looked up today?"

Coming from any other man, Tyrion would have taken that as an insult. Stark gestured to the window and somewhat stupidly, Tyrion hopped down from his chair and waddled over to the window next to the former hand. He was lucky Eddard Stark was a man of honor, otherwise his hands could have easily wrapped around Tyrion's throat.

Tyrion looked out the window, into the sky, and saw it. It cut across the sky like a bloody wound, a comet with a long tail trailing behind it, both blood red. Tyrion had seen comets before, but never during the day. What did it mean?