Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.
The Lion's heir
(Location: Red Keep)
He sat at his desk, writing away on a letter, when the dwarf walked in and sat down in the chair opposite of him. His disfigurement was plain to see. He ignored him and continued scratching words down on his letter. The silence dragged on and on, yet he still kept writing. "The chain looks good on you," Tyrion finally said, breaking the silence. He could never hold his tongue for long. "Almost as good as it looked on me."
"Is it wise for you to be out of your sickbed?" he asked, still writing.
"I am sick of my sickbed." As Tywin dipped his quill in ink, the dwarf looked around the room exaggeratedly. "Such pleasant chambers you have. Would you believe it, while I was dying, someone moved me to a dark little cell in Meagor's?"
He was well aware. "The Red Keep is overcrowded with wedding guests. Once they depart, we will find you more suitable accommodations." He continued writing.
"I rather liked these accommodations. Have you set a date for this great wedding?"
"Joffrey and Margaery shall marry on the first day of the new year, which as it happens is also the first day of the new century. The ceremony will herald the dawn of a new era." What he had written was all there. The ink had to be dried.
"So I take it is safe to say that you are enjoying your new position?"
"What do you want, Tyrion?" He would not be here if he didn't want something. He was what he was after all. The ink was now dried and he started folding the letter.
"Why does everyone assume that I want something?" he asked while his father poured wax onto the letter and then stamped the seal of the Hand onto it. "Can't I visit with my beloved father?" His gaze hardened somewhat but nothing that could intimidate him. "My beloved father, who somehow forgot to visit his son after he fell on the battlefield," he added.
"Maester Pycelle assured me your wounds were not fatal." That brought Tywin's attention back to the nose. "What madness possessed you?" he asked once and only once.
"The foe was at the gates with a battering ram. If Jaime had led the sortie, you'd call it valor."
"Jaime would never be so foolish as to remove his helm in battle."
"And while I was doing that, your grandson, the King, quivered in fear behind the walls."
"What do you want, Tyrion?"
His disfigured face morphed into a scowl. It would've terrified a weaker man but Tywin was anything but weak. "A little bloody gratitude would be a start."
"Mummers, jugglers, singers, and monkeys require applause. So did Aerys. You are a Lannister. You did as you were commanded, and I am sure it was to the best of your ability."
"That part I played? I saved your bloody city, it seems to me."
"Most people seem to feel that it was my attack on Lord Stannis's flank that turned the tide of battle," he replied coolly. "Lords Tyrell, Rowan, Redwyne, and Tarly fought nobly as well as I'm told it was your sister Cersei who set the pyromancers to making the wildfire that destroyed the Baratheon fleet."
"While all I did was get my nosehairs trimmed, is that it?" The bitterness was obvious in his voice.
"Your chain was a clever stroke, and crucial to our victory. Is that what you wanted to hear? Did you think I demanded a garland of roses every time I suffered a wound on a battlefield, hm? Now tell me what you want?" But before the dwarf could even open his mouth, he raised his hand commandingly. "Stop, do not bother. I know what you want. You want Casterly Rock. You will never have it.
"You are an ill-made, devious, disobedient, spiteful little creature full of envy, lust, and low cunning. Men's laws give you the right to bear my name and display my colors, since I cannot prove that you are not mine. To teach me humility, the gods have condemned me to watch you waddle about wearing that proud lion that was my father's sigil and his father's before him. But neither gods nor men shall ever compel me to let you turn Casterly Rock into your whorehouse. Go back to your bed, Tyrion." He turned his attention to the work that lay before him on the desk. The dwarf did not move from his seat. "Go, now."
He did not move. The look on his face did not know whether he should start crying or shouting. But when he finally spoke, he did not do either. "I was never going to ask about my rights to Casterly Rock. Despite what you might think of me, I am not a fool, Father."
"Then who were you going to ask for?"
"Tytos," he answered.
Tywin did something he rarely did before any of his children; he paused in what he was doing. "Your son," he said. The son no one talked about in front of him.
"Yes, my son," the dwarf answered. "He is a Lannister."
"He is a child of a lowborn girl."
"He is my child and my wife's."
"I am aware." The dwarf had hidden his wife away for the better part of a year before she discovered. When she was found out, she was already heavy with child. She died giving birth to that child. It was something that he had seen before. "So, you would have your son inherit what is rightfully your brother's?"
"The knights of the Kingsguard are forbidden to marry, to father children, and to hold land, you know that as well as I. The day Jaime put on that white cloak, he gave up his claim to Casterly Rock, but never once have you acknowledged it, just like how you have never acknowledged Tytos. It's past time. What I want is for you to stand up before the realm and proclaim that he is your grandson and lawful heir."
Tywin could see the hope in Tyrion's eyes as he spoke. He began to think on the matter. Unlike his father, Tytos had never once shamed the family name. He was not a knight but that could easily be fixed as it was ignored. And despite what others might have said, those who knew him claimed that after he pulled the dwarf out of the battle, he returned and held the line. Already he had heard singers praising his name, saying that he had roared with the might of a lion in his voice. While that was utter foolishness, he was everything that his father was not.
"Very well, he shall become my heir," he finally said, making his choice.
The dwarf's eyes widened in surprised as he heard those words. Then he shut them for a moment. When they opened again, they were collected. "Thank you, Father." He got down from the chair he sat in. "I will go inform Tytos of this."
"Do as you wish." He had a kingdom to run.
(Location: Red Keep)
She smirked as she watched the little bastard toddle into the room with the large book barely grasped in his hands. "You're later," Father said shortly from where he sat at the table.
"What's she doing here?" he asked in return, looking at her while walking to the table.
"Our business concerns her too. Sit."
He did as he was commanded. Once he sat down, he opened the book before him. "You'll be pleased to learn that after one conversation with Olenna Tyrell, I've saved the crown hundreds of thousands on this wedding," he remarked like what he had done mattered. He had only been given the title of Master of Coin after Baelish had left for the Eyrie to seduce Lysa Arryn. Once he was back, he would have his job back.
"Never mind that now," Father told him. "We have something important to discuss."
"I'm Master of Coin. Saving money is important." Cersei snorted softly at that, making him turn his disfigured head to her. "Stop that. You're making me uncomfortable."
"Good," she thought silently. She enjoyed doing that to him.
"Your sister has learned that your new friends, the Tyrells, are plotting to marry Sansa Stark to Willas."
He rubbed the stump that used to be his nose. Every time she saw it, Cersei wished that he could've died out there like he was supposed to. "She's a beautiful girl and I do not believe that Willas Tyrell is anything like his younger brother. What exactly is the problem?"
She would've laughed if their father wasn't there. He was the one who answered. "I bring them into the royal fold and this is how they repay me, by trying to steal the key to the North out from under me."
"Sansa is the key to the North?" he repeated, making it sound like something faintly amusing. "I seem to remember that she has an older brother."
"That older brother of hers threw away his potential Frey wife for Gawen Westerling's eldest daughter, losing House Frey in the process."
The surprise on his face was enough to make Cersei smirk a little wider. It was not often she got to see him lost for words. "I am surprised," he admitted once he found his tongue again. "I thought Robb Stark had better sense."
"He is a boy of sixteen," replied Father. "At that age, sense weighs for little, against lust and love and honor. What's more, the Karstarks have marched home. The Young Wolf has lost half of his army. His days are numbered. Theon Greyjoy murdered both his brothers. That makes Sansa the heir to Winterfell and I am not about to hand her over to the Tyrells."
"The Tyrell army is helping to win this war," Tyrion remarked casually. "Do you really think it's wise to refuse them?"
"There's nothing to refuse. This is a plot. Plots are not public knowledge and the Tyrells won't carry this one out until after Joffrey's wedding." He shared a look with both him and Cersei. "We need to act first and kill this union in this crib."
"And how do we do that?"
"We find Sansa Stark a different husband."
"Yes, it is," Cersei agreed looking at her dwarf of a little brother, the victorious smirk on her lips. She was proud of what came next as it was her idea to begin with.
He saw the smirk and then looked at their father's impassive face. She could've laughed as realization dawned on his face. "You can't mean it," he practically whispered.
"I can and I do," Father replied.
"Joffrey has made this poor girl's life miserable since the day he took her father's head. Now she's finally free of him and you give her to me? That's cruel, even for you."
"Do you intend on mistreating her?" he asked before the little monster could continue. "The girl's happiness is none of my concern, nor should it be yours."
"She's a child."
"She's flowered, I assure you," Cersei told him, loving the fact that they were leaving him with no other option. "She and I have discussed it at length."
"There, you see?" Father said, clearly not expecting an answer. "You will wed, bed her, and—"
"No, I will not!" Tyrion replied. He did not shout but his voice did rise. "I am wedded. I will not take another. I am not a Targaryen."
"Your wife has been dead for years now."
"So has yours and we've yet to see a new mother at the Rock," he retorted as he gestured sharply between him and Cersei.
Even though she was enjoying this, the mention of that little whore infuriated her. At some point, Tyrion hid her in the Rock itself, right under Father's nose. They didn't find her until she had given birth, which she attributed to Father getting old. If she had been the Lady of the Rock, there was no doubt that she would've found the slut sooner.
Father's face hardened. "If you will not marry her, another Lannister will marry her."
"On that, we can agree. I suggest my son." Cersei frowned at those words. If it had been her choice, she would've had that bastard strangled in his crib. Instead, he had been allowed to prance around disgracing the family. What was even more dumbfounding was the fact that Father had proclaimed him his hair.
"I have already proclaimed him my heir and you wish to give him more?"
"It's because he's your heir that he should marry Sansa. She is the key to the North, after all. Their firstborn son would get Casterly Rock, their second Winterfell. And Lady Sansa deserves more than a disfigured dwarf for a husband."
"Instead, you wish her to have a disfigured bastard for one?" Cersei asked him with poisonous sweetness.
"Enough," Father said, silencing the two of them. "…Very well, Tytos shall marry Sansa." He turned his head to her. "And you shall marry Willas Tyrell."
She froze with her victory still on her lips. She stared at her lord father. "I will not," she said.
"He's the heir to Highgarden. Tyrion's son will secure the North and you will secure the Reach."
"No, I won't do it."
"Yes, you will. You're still fertile. You need to marry again and breed."
The mere fact that he spoke to her like that enraged her. "I am Queen Regent! Not some broodmare—!"
"You're my daughter!" he shouted, one of the few times he had done so to her. She flinched away from it, shock evident on her face. She had never seen him look so angry. "You will do as I command and you will marry Willas Tyrell." She started shaking her head. "And put an end to the disgusting rumors about you, once and for all."
"Father, don't me do it again, please," she began to beg him.
"Not another word," he told her as he stood up. He looked at them both. "My children," he said with no small amount of disgust in his voice. He walked away.
Cersei sat there, trying to understand what had just happened. What was supposed to happen was that Tyrion was to marry Sansa as a "reward." Instead, his bastard son was getting her and she would end going to Highgarden, away from Jaime. This wasn't supposed to happen. She turned her head to look at Tyrion. "I supposed you're enjoying this, aren't you?" she spat at him. He did not say anything. He simply left.
(Location: Red Keep)
The first time she had seen Tytos Lannister was when he accompanied King Robert to Winterfell. She had heard rumors that he was the Imp's bastard son, much like Jon had been Father's. She thought nothing of him really, believing him to be much less handsome then the prince. Now that prince was the king, he was heir to the Westerlands, and she was now his husband.
That morning, she had thought that she was just getting a new dress, only to have the lovely thought ruined by Queen Cersei. She had considered fleeing but stopped when she was threatened with being dragged to the Great Sept. She promised herself that she would not cry and she could have a small moment of pride when she did not.
The feast was small compared to the few she had been to. When they had come in, the Tyrells ignored her. The only one who had looked upon her was Margaery with a sad expression. Her new husband sat by her side and did not say anything, not to her at the least. He ate little and she ate none at all. All she saw were the Tryells on one side and the royal family on the other before the wedding table.
As the wedding feast went on with the songs playing, the people dancing and laughing, she found herself wanting to be alone. She stood up from the table and walked away. Her feet wanted to take her to the godswood but her head knew she would not make that far. There was a balcony that looked out to the city, where she would be able to see it without smelling it.
But as she walked up the steps and into the balcony's alcove, she found herself alone and the king made his appearance. "Congratulations, my lady," he said into her ear as he took her in hand. From behind him were two of the Kingsguard, Ser Meryn and Ser Boros.
"Thank you, your Grace," she replied, remembering her courtesies.
He turned her around and began leading her back to the feast. "You've done it. You married a Lannister. Soon, you'll have a Lannister baby. It's a dream come true for you, isn't it? What a glorious day."
It was not a dream anymore, more like a nightmare. But she wasn't going to let him know that. "Yes, your Grace."
He laughed a little laugh as he let go of her arm. "I supposed it doesn't really matter which Lannister puts the baby into you. Maybe I'll pay you a visit tonight? How'd you like that?" Her eyes flickered away from him. While she did not say anything aloud, she was screaming inwardly. "You wouldn't?" he asked her, somehow seeing that her horror. "That's alright; Ser Meryn and Ser Boros will hold you down."
Suddenly, there was a powerful hand gripping the king's shoulder, turning his arrogant sneer into a look of pain. "Are you threatening my newly-wedded wife?" the voice of Tytos Lannister asked him quietly.
Sansa was relieved to see her new husband standing behind Joffrey. Even though he was younger, he was just as tall as his cousin. Unlike the other Lannisters she had seen, who preferred their hair long, his was cut close, very close, to his head. When one looked at his face, the first thing they would've noticed was the black eyepatch around his left eye.
The king continued to be held there by that grip, letting out small whimpers of pain. It was only when the two Kingsguard present there took a step forward that Tytos released his grip. It took him only a moment to regain his sneer. "Of course not, I was merely offering her my congratulations."
"And I supposed you offer your congratulations much like your father, only more violent," his cousin replied. The king turned to look at him and Sansa knew he was angry. But her husband did not flinch. "Go away, Joffrey. You have a betrothed, go to her."
For a moment, it looked like he would do just that. He slipped past his cousin, but only to go to the balcony above the feast. He clapped his hands like a child who had just been given a new toy. "Time for the bedding ceremony!" he declared loudly. The men cheered loudly to that and the women giggled.
Sansa was filled with horror at his words. But then Tytos spoke. "There will be no bedding ceremony."
The king turned to look at him. "There will be if I command it."
"…Very well. I shall let only one piece of clothing be taken off of me." She only saw the right side of him as he reached up and took off his eyepatch. The music stopped as did the men who had started making their way to the steps. The ladies who looked up him gasped in horror and fright, some of the weaker ones fainting to the floor.
Her husband took her by the hand and led her gently but firmly back down to their table. "Father, make sure she eats something before you escort her up to my rooms," he told Lord Tyrion. Then he walked away, his eyepatch still gripped in his left hand. Men and women part before him as he walked out of the hall.
Sansa found herself sitting down at the table again. Her husband wanted her to eat but she was not hungry. If she did not eat anything, he would know. That would only make the night worse. She forced herself to eat some pieces of the meat before her. When she swallowed the last piece, Lord Tyrion was already by the table.
She stood up and took his hand. She knew all eyes were following her as they left the hall, eyes filled with lust or disgust or pity or outright hatred. The music grew fainter as the two of them left the hall. Neither of them said a word as they walked through the corridors. But as the door to their bedchambers came into sight, the fear gripped her again.
"You need not fear Tytos, my lady," Lord Tyrion told her. "He is nothing like Joffrey, I can promise you that. I should know."
"Of course, my lord," she told him.
He looked back at her. "You doubt me. No, there's no need for you to deny it. You should know that my father had originally planned for you to marry me but I was able to convince him as that his heir, Tytos should marry you instead. Believe me when I tell you this, Lady Sansa: I have made many questionable choices in my life and even bad ones too. My son is neither of those things."
They came to the door and he opened it for her. She stepped through and into the room, hearing the door close behind her. It was quiet but to her, it was as loud as the bells in the city. The room was luxurious but not grandiose in its luxury. The most dominating item in the room was the wedding bed.
But her husband was not waiting there for her. Instead, he was sitting at the small desk nearby, the scratching of a quill surrounding him. His doublet lay on the back of the chair but he still wore his tunic. His patch sat on the desk to his left. "I know you are there, my lady," he said without looking up or turning his head.
"What are you writing, my lord?" she asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.
"A letter to your brother and mother, telling them what has happened."
She was surprised to hear that and she was glad he could not see her face. "But why?" she asked. "They're traitors."
"That doesn't excuse the fact they deserve to know firsthand what has happened to you."
She walked a little closer to the desk and saw something leaning against it that made her gasp. "Is…is that…?"
"Your family's sword?" he asked. "Yes. Grandfather had wanted to melt it down so he could have a new sword for the family but I demanded it as a wedding gift."
"Will you return it to Robb?"
"No. It is yours now and will be our second son's when he inherits Winterfell." His voice was firm and final.
"O-of course, my lord."
The scratching of the quill stopped but he did not move from his chair. "Do you know why I have never actually talked to you before now, my lady?" he asked.
"No," she answered.
"Because since I was a child, I was taught that family was everything. Then I had heard about how you betrayed your family because you were too blind in what you thought was love. You can see how low I thought of you."
Tears came to her eyes at those words. They managed to worm their way past her and delve deep into her heart. "Haven't I suffered enough for that already?" she asked, her voice already becoming thick. It still hurt her to remember how she ran to the queen and told her what her lord father was doing, all because she was love with Joffrey and couldn't see the cruelty until it was too late.
"…Yes, you have," he answered with a surprisingly gentle tone in his voice, making her tears stop. "You were also kind to Sandor, which redeems you somewhat in my eyes."
"You know of the Hound?" She had not seen him since the Battle of the Blackwater.
"He's the one who taught me to fight." He stood up from the desk. He reached out for the patch and took it, looping it around his head in a manner that was well practiced. "Whatever we might think of one another in the past, it is different now, my lady. We are husband and wife, wedded in the eyes of the Seven. So I will only hold you to do one thing."
"What?" she asked him; unsure of what it was he was going to ask of her.
He stepped away from the desk and turned to face her. His tunic was a crimson red and hung on his body to show what it was with a sense of modesty. A cord of yarn hung around his neck and attached to it was a tooth, yellowed with age. Beneath the tunic, she could barely see a mass of white scaring on his left shoulder. "Stay faithful to me and our family and I will do the same to them and to you."
She didn't realize how close he had gotten until all she could see when she looked up was his eye and the patch. But those words, she never thought that she would hear them from a Lannister. They carried themselves with a quiet weight and yet were spoken gently. She looked at his face and met him with her answer, "As you say, my lord."
Something flickered in his eye but she did not know what it was. "Good. Let us retire. I imagine that we're both tired from today and could use a good night's rest." He turned around and began taking off his tunic.
That surprised her. "But…but the bedding—?"
"I will not bed you until you are willing, Sansa," he told her as the tunic came off and fell to the floor.
"But the people are expecting it."
"You mean my lord grandfather and lady aunt are expecting it," he replied as his pants fell down to the floor as well. "They can go fuck themselves. You will be bedded when you want to be bedded, not before. Anyone who tries to say or do otherwise will have a problem with me."
She felt the promise in those words and just knew that he would hold to them. The words of his father came back to her and now she knew that he had been telling the truth. "Thank you my…Tytos," she told him.
"Come to bed, Sansa," he told her back as he slipped beneath the covers. And she did.
(Location: Throne Room)
The king was dead. His…son was dead. And the person being blamed for it was his brother, all because he had held the cup that killed Joffrey. He had been arrested mere seconds after Joffrey had died and now, he was going through this farce of a trial.
And it was a farce, Jaime could tell that much. The evidence Cersei had collected against Tyrion was outrageous to say the least. It had started out as a few good things that Tyrion had done and they got worse from there, talking about how he planned to kill Joffrey. If he looked at the chairs seated before the Iron Throne, he could see that the Fat Flower was eating up every word, the Red Viper was amused, and his father just watched Tyrion with his eyes.
Cersei sat as close as she could to the Iron Throne, her satisfaction evident on her face as she watched the proceedings continue. If he looked out to the galleries of people there, he saw his nephew and his new wife sitting close. It was a match he had never really thought would work and yet, they sat together.
Tyrion himself sat in the stand before the throne, looking oddly comfortable. Whatever insult and lies the "witnesses" threw at him, he remained sitting. That was not like Tyrion. He would get angry and shout back at them. But instead, he remained sitting. Sitting and waiting. "Something is going to happen," Jaime thought to himself. "He has a plan."
When the last witness, Varys, stepped down from the second stand, Tywin looked at Tyrion. "Do you have any defense of your own?" he asked.
"If it would please the court," Cersei said, standing up from her chair. "I beg your leave to bring—"
"I believe he was talking to me, dear sister," Tyrion said, interrupting her. "Unless you've suddenly shrunk and have started going by my name." Nervous laughter rang in the galleys, laughter that died under the stare of the Hand. "As a matter of fact, Father, I do have someone to defend me. I call upon Tytos Lannister."
His son stood up from where he sat and descended to the floor, walking to the witness stand. "Tytos of House Lannister, what do you have to say in Tyrion's defense?" Father asked him.
"Nothing," he answered. Shocked gasps echoed in the galleries but Tyrion himself was not shocked. "I am not here to defend my father. I am here to ask a question: why are we doing this?"
The judges were confused, even though Father did not show it. "What do you mean by that?" Lord Tyrell asked him.
"Yes, what do you mean nephew?" Jaime silently asked.
"My father did not kill Joffrey. But if he did, why are we having this trial? If he truly killed Joffrey, we should be rewarding and honoring him." Everyone, with the exception of Tyrion, looked at him like he had gone mad.
"You say that we should reward him?" Lord Tyrell said again stupidly. "He was the king."
"So was the Mad King. That didn't stop my lord grandfather from betraying him and sacking this very city or my uncle from killing him. They weren't tried, why should my father be?"
It was a clever thing to say and do, Jaime realized as the hall fell into stunned silence. His nephew compared the Mad King to Joffrey and what House Lannister had supposedly done to both. He could see what was going to come next and he found that he could not disagree with it.
Cersei could, however. "Joffrey was nothing like the Mad King!" she declared, her hands clenching the arms of her chair. "He was a good, kind, strong boy who was destined to become a great king!"
"Hear hear!" Maester Pycelle said in his wheezing voice.
"Hear hear!" the Kingsguard, except for him, said as one. The galleries, particularly the witnesses Cersei had found against Tyrion, began to echo the sentiment. But then Tytos did something unexpected: he laughed.
He threw his head back and laughed loudly. His laughter echoed throughout the hall, making it sound like there were many versions of him laughing there. It overrode everyone who began speaking, silencing them all. Just as soon as the laughter had appeared, so did it vanished (the echoes took a little longer). "What is so funny, young Lannister?" Lord Tyrell asked him.
"The mere fact that my aunt is delusional enough to still believe that," he answered before looking at Cersei. "Joffrey was as much as those things you claim he was as much you are a man." Again the shocked gasps came to the insult he threw at her. He turned in the stand to look at everyone in the hall. "To say that Joffrey was human is an insult to the rest of us. The truth is quite simple: your precious king was nothing more than a mad idiot in fancy clothes."
He turned to the Grand Maester. "'The most noblest child the gods ever put on this good earth?'" he said, repeating Pycelle's words back to him. "After promising mercy to Lord Eddard Stark, promising to send him to the Wall in exchange for his confession, he had Ser Payne take his head, starting the very war we are in now. Does that sound like the actions of a noble child?" he asked the people in the room.
He didn't bother to wait for an answer before turning to Ser Meryn Trant. "That day you spoke of, ser, where my father called the king a halfwit, you neglected to tell them all what he and you were doing. Shall we tell them?" He turned once more to the people. "The king was pointing a loaded crossbow at Sansa Stark, his then betrothed. Why? Because her brother had won a battle against our forces," he answered his own question.
"His Grace had been merciful and did not fire the crossbow," Ser Meryn objected.
"Idiot," Jaime thought to himself. His nephew was just getting started and all he did was just add fuel.
Tytos swung his head to look at the Kingsguard. "Yes, he didn't fire the crossbow because he had enough brains in his head to realize that if he did that, he would lose a hostage. Instead, he amused himself by doing such things and having the Kingsguard beat her. What exactly were you doing during this, Ser Meryn? I remember quite well. You claimed that you were serving your king while you tore the dress off my wife and beat her!" More gasps of surprise came from the people watching this.
But Tytos was not done. "And yet, for all his cruelty, his vaunted strength, his bragging of what he would do to his enemies, Joffrey was also a coward. In the battle of the Blackwater, when the fighting came to the gates and the walls, instead of leading his men like a king, he turned and fled back to the castle like a child crying for his mother's skirts. He did this while my father and I fought and held the enemy back."
The crowd was beginning to turn their opinion against Joffrey, Jaime could see it in the way they milled about in their seats and talked with one another in silent whispers. Some were even showing Lady Sansa sympathetic looks. "If I may go back to a previous point, Tytos Lannister?" asked Prince Oberyn, still looking rather amused at all that was happening. "For all your claims of what King Joffrey was, the evidence against your lord father is insurmountable."
"My father did not kill Joffrey."
"Such faith in one's own father," he remarked lightly.
"Aye, I have faith in my father. I know that he didn't kill Joffrey because he wouldn't renege on me like that."
Those words held the interest of the three judges. "Pray tell, what do you mean by that?"
"My father and I came to an agreement a long time ago: that the only one who would kill Joffrey would be me."
Silence fell upon the throne room as everyone stared at him. Some did it with gaped jaws and some did it with wide eyes. Some even did both. Cersei looked like she was ready to leap out of her chair but still stayed in it. The only two who did not look surprised were Tyrion and Lord Tywin. "Are you saying that you are the one who could have killed King Joffrey, Tytos?" Jaime's father asked him in a cold voice.
"Would have? Gladly and willing with a great deal of satisfaction in doing so," he answered. "But unfortunately, I could not have killed him. I could not because I was at the farthest edge of the royal table beside my wife and I would not have used poison to kill him."
"You see? You see!?" Cersei shouted as she came out of her chair. "He is a traitor and a Kinslayer! He would have gladly killed my son, the king! He and his dwarf of a father murdered my sweet Joffrey! They—"
She suddenly fell quiet as Tytos turned his head to stare at her. Jaime didn't need to see it to know what it was that made his sister go silent and stumble back into her chair, he had seen it before. It was the look his father used to turn on them and lords that had irritated him. It was a look that demanded they be silent and he did not know of anyone who had been able to resist that glare.
His hands reached up and undid the eyepatch he wore. He held it in his hand as he continued to stare at Cersei, who was now looking anywhere but there. "Look at it, Aunt Cersei," he told her, spitting out the last two words like they were something foul. He did not raise his voice to her and he did not threaten her but his voice sent shivers down Jaime's spine. Not only had he used Father's stare but his voice also.
Cersei did not do as she was commanded, until he said it again. "Look at it." She did but she could not hold her gaze for long. Tytos turned his head to look at the galleries. He only saw for a moment, but Jaime knew what lay behind that patch: white scarring and an empty socket.
The weaker people in the galleries fainted at the sight of his empty eye socket but he kept his gaze on them all. "I know you have all wondered why I have an eyepatch at such a young age. I was born with green in my right eye, from my father, and blue in my left, from my mother. When I was seven, King Robert and the royal court had come to visit Casterly Rock. During their visit, I came upon Prince Joffrey trying to drown his sister, the Princess Myrcella, in a fountain of water.
"I pushed him away and took her to the maester. But even then I knew my loyalty to my family and I told the maester that she must've slipped and fall into the fountain. He was able to ensure she lived and I thought nothing of it. Until that night, when I woke to find a knight holding me down and another keeping me gagged. Then the prince appeared, holding a dagger in hand. He called me a useless bastard who should not exist, that I wasn't a pure Lannister. Then he told me that he would make me a pure Lannister and plunged that dagger into my left eye. He tore it out as I screamed into the gag.
"He would have done more, if not for a maidservant who had been passing seen what happened and ran screaming. They ran and left me there. I do not remember the next few days as pain was the only thing I knew, pain and nightmares. But I was told of what happened the day before I awoke. To this day, I believe that the only reason my father did not bury an axe into Joffrey's head was because my grandfather was there."
It was true, Jaime knew that. Tyrion had stormed into the feasting hall with a battleax in hand. He had marched up to the high table, screaming for Joffrey's head. He remembered the sheer look of terror on Joffrey's face at the sight of him. He also remembered Cersei standing up and demanding that Tyrion leave and then Robert stood up, demanding what was going on. Tyrion told them all in a voice that was barely raging. Joffrey protested and his sister came to her son's defense. His uncles and aunt were all shocked, for they knew Tytos and loved him. It all became a mess of shouting and threats until Lord Tywin had stood up and ordered everyone to be silent. He told Tyrion to leave and attend his son and then he told the king that they were to leave the next day. Robert might've protested, but they left all the same.
Tytos pulled a dagger from his belt. The metal scrapping against the leather was enough to bring Jaime of his reminiscing. "This is the dagger that took my eye," he said to all, holding it high. "I kept since that day so I could repay Joffrey for what he did, as a Lannister always repays his debts. If I was to kill Joffrey, the first thing I would have done was stab his eye out, like he had done mine."
Jaime heard those words and suddenly understood why, when Joffrey was laid out to be shown, he had been missing his left eye. Tytos turned back to the Iron Throne and pointed his dagger at one of the Kingsguard. "Tell me, Ser Boros, how did it feel to hold down a child while your prince cut out his eye? I must ask you, for Ser Preston my gagger is already dead."
"Enough," Lord Tywin finally said. Jaime was surprised it took him this long. "Tytos, if you do not have anything in your father's defense, you will step down."
"Oh, why are we going to let this farce of a trial go on?" Tyrion asked, speaking for the first time. "You three have already decided my guilt. Since it seems I cannot trust in men, I must trust in the gods to decide my fate." He lifted his head and raised his voice. "I demand a trial by combat!"
The people in the galleries started making noise, much louder this time. The spears of the gold cloaks began banging against the floor to make them silent. Jaime looked over at Cersei and saw how pleased she was at that news. "He has that right, my lords," she said to the judges. "Let the gods judge. Ser Gregor Clegane will stand for Joffrey. He returned to the city the night before last, to put his sword at my service."
"She was hoping it would come to this," Jaime realized. She had been hoping he would ask for a trial by combat and had summoned the Mountain for it.
Father had an angry look on his face. Lord Tyrell was the one who asked the question of Tyrion. "Do you have a champion to defend your innocence?"
"Me," Tytos answered. Father seemed to look even angrier.
(Location: Red Keep)
"This is most certainly interesting," he mused as he sat amongst the royal group as his rank benefitted him. Ellaria sat by his side, most likely shocking the other people there. They did enjoy shocking the northerners like this. But was shocking for them was that the boy king was there. From what he heard, it was a request by the Imp's champion.
He saw the Mountain standing on his side of the battleground, clad in heavy plate, and his blood coursed with hatred at the sight. If he had known that the Mountain would be the one to fight against the Imp, he would have volunteered to fight him. He so wanted to make the giant monster bleed for what he did to Elia and her children and make him say he did it. But instead, the Imp's son had claimed that honor.
"You wanted to fight that?" Ellaria whispered in his ear as she too looked at the Mountain that Rides.
"I wanted to kill that," he whispered back.
He turned his head to look at the other side. Compared to the Mountain, Tytos Lannister looked tiny and ill-prepared, wearing only boiled leather and chain mail, standing by a lit brazier. His weapons lay on the table beside him, a sword, an axe, and a hammer. It was like he did not know which one to choose for the fight. But he did not look frightened. His eyes were closed as he held a necklace with some kind of tooth attached to it to his lips. Perhaps he was saying some last prayer before going to battle?
He opened his eyes and turned to his wife, the former Sansa Stark. She was a pretty young thing who he and Ellaria might've bedded together if she was not married to a Lannister. Her husband offered her the necklace and she took it, despite the fear and nervousness in her eyes. Oberyn realized then that she was afraid for him.
As the High Septon said a prayer before them all, Tytos walked over to his father and went to his knees. The Imp gave him a father's kiss on his forehead. "They love each other," the Red Viper thought in surprise. He had thought that Tytos would be doing this kind of thing out of family loyalty. Even Dorne had heard the story of the Imp lost his lowborn wife the same way he had lost his mother. Oberyn would've thought that he would be like his father and hate his son for it. But he truly loved his son just as his son loved his father.
The High Septon finished his prayer. The Mountain took his sword and shield, both truly monstrous things in height. Tytos took the hammer, not the size of the Usurper's famed Warhammer but big enough to hold with two hands if he had to, and put it in a loop on his belt. He then took the axe in his left and the sword in his right. What was odd was that he held the axe with the spike pointing outwards instead of the blade.
The Hand of the King raised his hand and then lowered it. The two combatants moved towards one another, silencing the crowd around the battlefield. When they were close, the Mountain swung first. It was a swing that Tytos easily stepped back from. But the Mountain did not follow after him.
This continued on into the fight, the Mountain always swinging, missing his opponent, and never pursuing. During this, Tytos never swung back or attacked. He would just step out of the way of the swing. "Why is that monster not attacking him fully?" Oberyn wondered. "He should've done that by now."
It seems he wasn't the only one who had noticed. "What were my grandfather's orders, Ser Gregor?" Tytos asked the Mountain as he avoided another swing. "Did he tell you to not kill me?"
"…Yes," he answered in a deep voice as he raised his sword for another swing. "You only require a sharp lesson."
Suddenly, the young Lannister leapt into a roll, moving past his giant opponent. He came out of the roll with a pivot, stopping just behind the Mountain. He swung his weapons upwards, past the leather hanging down from the armor, right into the knees.
The sounds that they made were outdone by the roar of pain that Mountain gave off as he fell to the bloody mess that was his knees. Tytos pulled his weapons out and stood up. But he did not continue his attack. Instead, dropped them and then pulled out the hammer, swinging it at the head of the Mountain. It wasn't strong enough to bash his head in, only disorient him. He swayed slightly from side to side, losing his grip on the sword and shield he held.
Again, Tytos struck. He first grabbed the left hand and swung the hammer down. There was a crunching sound that was sickening to hear to those who had never seen anything like. The Mountain roared again in pain when his left hand was broken, then his right. He could hold no weapons now and he could not stand.
The young Lannister did something peculiar then. He dropped the hammer and reached for the Mountain's helmet, unbuckling it and throwing it off his helmet. Even on his knees, the Mountain was a formidable height, making his opponent draw out his dagger and hold it at his throat at an angle. For once, the size of the Mountain worked against him. His opponent was so small that he could not move his hands (broken as they were) back to reach him.
"Stop moving," Tytos ordered the Mountain, who had been trying to get free. He did not listen and continued his struggle. The Imp's son fought to hold him there. "Bring that fucking thing here, now!" he shouted to the two men standing next to the brazier.
They grabbed hold of it and started bringing it towards them. The Mountain fought even harder to get free. He tried shoving his shoulders back against the Lannister but Tytos took with a tolerance Oberyn found surprising in such a young man. Never once did he release his grip on the Mountain.
When the brazier was finally place in front of them, the young Lannister only said one thing as he dropped the dagger. "Tommen, don't look away." Then he began to use all of his strength to push the head of the Mountain that Rides into the fire. It must've been a task that took all of his strength to even force the head down.
As the head descended, the monster kept trying to fight free. Oberyn saw blood fly when his shoulder struck the Imp's son in the eye but he still held on, forcing the head down and down. It wasn't until the Mountain's head was fully in the brazier that he started screaming. It was a deep roar of a scream that gradually grew higher and higher as his face burned. His struggling became more and more frantic as the screaming rose. The Lannister must've felt the heat in his hands but still kept him held down.
Eventually, the screaming stopped but Tytos kept holding him down. It was only when the struggling stopped that he pulled the Mountain that Rides out of the brazier with a deep red on his hands that Oberyn had seen on very sunburnt skin. But the worse sight was Ser Gregor's face. It was a blackened mess with flesh already being burned through and scarred. If the man had lived, his face would've been like that of a demon from one of the seven hells.
With a seemingly great effort, Tytos pushed the Mountain's corpse down onto the ground and stepped back, breathing very heavily. "You will have to forgive me, ser," he said to the corpse. "I could not find a bedsheet to catch fire on you. So a brazier had to do. It did for Sandor after all."
Oberyn knew the name of the Hound and he knew that he and the Mountain were brothers. But why would a Lannister concern himself with one enough to kill the other in his name? Then he realized that the Mountain that Rides was dead. He was dead, dead for the name of another and not by his hand.
"Tommen," Tytos said to the boy king. "Starting tomorrow, you will meet me in the training yard as the sun rises. I will train you how to fight." His voice brokered no arguments and no opposite. King Tommen just nodded weakly.
The Imp's son began walking back to his side of the field even as his grandfather proclaimed Tyrion's innocence. The two men came to his side. As Tywin finished speaking, he began. "Strip him of his armor and melt it down. Then feed his body to the dogs." He paused for a second and then said, "Before you do that, cut off his manhood and give it to Prince Martell as a gift."
He turned to look at the royal stand, at Oberyn. He raised his red hand in a little salute before lowering it and kept walking back to his father and wife. The Red Viper watched as he went, seeing how he cradled his red hands. He found himself chuckling. There was a kindred spirit in the young lion, they just wanted the monster dead only for different reasons. As for the gifted manhood, well, how could he and Dorne refuse?
(Location: Red Keep)
"You're late," Tytos said he walked into the yard. Margaery, her ladies, her brother Loras followed him and probably so did half of the court.
"Margaery invited me to share breakfast with her," he answered quietly.
"And did you enjoy this breakfast?" His cousin wore no tunic over his body, leaving his chest bare for all to see. He heard a few of the ladies giggle but he didn't know why they would. All he could see was the massive scarring on Tytos's left shoulder that traveled down his arm and across his chest. It was horrifying thing to see but it was also something he could not look away from, like the Hound's face.
"Yes?" he replied, making it sound like it was a question.
Tytos just snorted. "Get over here," he ordered, pointing to a spot right in front of him. His hands were wrapped in white linen.
He went to the spot like he was told. "What are we going to doing, coz?" he asked him. After what he saw yesterday, Tytos scared him. Not like Joffrey, but enough.
"I am going to be teaching. You are going to be learning."
"Oh, okay. What am I going to be learning?"
"The first thing any warrior needs to learn: pain." He swung his right arm and Tommen felt a stunning pain in his cheek. He fell to the ground as it blossomed. He heard gasps but didn't see where they came from. "Get up, Tommen." He did so and was punched in the other cheek. He fell down again and this time, tears began leaking out of his eyes. "Get up."
He shook his head, not wanting to. He got a foot in his tummy and he rolled away from it even as the pain erupted in his tummy. A gross thing filled his mouth and he hurled it out. Seeing it there on the grass made him even sicker and he hurled again. A kick hit him again he fell to the ground once more.
"Get up, Tommen," he heard Tytos tell him. "Just because you're on the ground doesn't mean I won't hurt you. Get up."
He was crying now. Everything was hurting. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. Why was he acting like Joffrey? Why was he being this mean?"
All it earned him was another kick. "Get up."
Not wanting to get kicked, he did as he was told. But that just earned him another punch that sent him down to the ground. Faintly, he heard the court saying something, shouting words. "Good ser, stop this!" he heard Margaery cry out.
"I'm not a knight," Tytos replied.
"I am!" Ser Loras cried. As he looked up, Tommen saw the Knight of Flowers, clad in the white of the Kingsguard step forward.
"Stay out of this, Tyrell," his cousin told him.
"I will not. I am one of King Tommen's seven and—" He reached out to stop Tytos, only to have him be punched with a sound that echoed in the air.
"Loras!" Margaery cried as her brother fell out of Tommen's sight.
"Get up, Tommen," Tytos told him. But he didn't want to move. He just wanted to lie there until the pain away. But then he got another kick in his side. "Are you going to cry for your mother? Are you going to run for her skirts? Joffrey did that every time something happened he didn't like. Are you Joffrey?"
No, he wasn't Joffrey. He knew that. "I'm not Joffrey," he said in a voice filled with pain.
"Yes you are. You're both sobbing, pathetic, excuses who always cry for their mother when something goes wrong, never trying to fix it themselves. Now get up." He didn't move and it earned him another kick. "I thought you were a Lannister, Tommen. What are our words?"
His breath came in ragged gasps and breaths. But he could still answer. "H-Hear Me Roar."
"Are you a lion? Am I going to hear you roar?"
"I am a lion." He tried to get up but soon as he stood, another punch sent him back down.
"All I see is a mewling cub."
"He's just a boy!" someone shouted at his cousin but he did nothing to reply.
But it was the shout that made Tommen start to get back up. Was that Mother coming towards him? Was she trying to stop this? No, he would not allow it. He stood up and leapt at Tytos with a scream, already swinging wildly. But then the world turned upside down and he found himself on the ground, facing his cousin who had his fist pulled back to punch.
But then he lowered his fist and released him. "Good," he said approvingly.
Everything still hurt but it fell to a dull ache. He could still feel tears on his face. "Why?" he asked his cousin.
For some reason, he reached down and held up the necklace of the lion's tooth. "Do you know how I got this?"
He nodded. It was a story he had heard a lot of times from family and the like. Grandfather and his family were riding through the mountains and one night, a barely grown lion attacked Tytos. They barely fought (but the singers would have him believe that it lasted for hours) before the rest of the party fended it off, leaving Tytos with a wounded shoulder from where the lion bit and clawed him but also with a tooth he had knocked out of the lion's mouth.
"Do you think that it was nice and easy when I tried fighting that lion off? No. It was painful. I was half-numb with the pain and that pain stayed for the next week. Training to be a warrior is not going to be easy, Tommen It's going to be hard, tiring, and most of all, painful. Pain is going to be with you every step of the way. And even when you are done training, you find yourself on the battlefield and the pain will be there too. It's best for you to know it early, to know pain and focus past it. That was how the Hound trained me at the start."
The king was fascinated by the words he heard. "Does it work?" he asked.
"What makes you think I'm not in pain right now?" his cousin asked before showing his hands. "These hurt. They are going to hurt until my hands are normal once more. They hurt even more when I swing them. Does it stop me? No. Are you going to let the pain stop you?"
He wiped away the tears on his face and shook his head. "No."
"Then get up. We're not done." And he did.
(Location: Red Keep)
He sat in the chair opposite his grandfather, having been ordered to see him. "I suppose you think yourself clever," Lord Tywin said from behind his desk. There was a decanter of wine and two cups on the desk but they were not touched.
"In what way, my lord?" he asked.
"The duel with the Mountain," he answered.
"You were the one who gave him the order. I only used it to my advantage." Of course, he didn't mention having placed orders to have Ser Gregor's meals drugged as soon as he had arrived so he would be slow and weak by the time the duel started. Both he and his father figured out he would've been the only one Cersei would call if it came to a trial by combat.
"I was talking about your little gift to the Martells."
"Prince Oberyn came to King's Landing for the chance to kill the Mountain. Since he didn't do it himself after coming all that way, I thought it best to ensure he left with some kind of a gift."
"A gift would've been the Mountain's head, yet you give him his manhood."
"They do say that he raped Princess Elia before she was killed." They sat in silence for a moment longer. "Is there anything you need, my lord, or am I just here to being scolded?"
Lord Tywin ignored that remark and continued on. "You will be sent to the Westerlands soon with my brother Kevan. There you will be taught in how to rule. After you come of age, you will be knighted."
"I will not."
"You most certainly will."
"No, I will not. I lost my faith in knighthood and chivalry the night two Kingsguard held me down while my cousin cut out my eye." That had been why he had sought out Sandor to train him. He could still remember that day. Him all but running out into the courtyard with the bandage still wrapped around his head, going to the Hound with his helmet closed shut and telling him to train him. Sandor opened his helmet's visor to look at him better.
"Why don't you go find a knight to teach you, boy, and get the fuck out of the way of my horse?" he demanded.
But Tytos stood firm. "I don't want a knight to teach me. I want you to teach me." Sandor looked at him longer. And then he climbed down from his horse, agreeing to it. The lessons he had learn were painful and many, but he learned and survived.
"I will go to the Westerlands gladly, but I will not be a knight," he said. "I'm sure Sansa will finally enjoy being out of King's Landing. This place has not been good to her." It was a slow thing, but he found himself beginning to enjoy the company of his wife.
"If you cherished your wife in such a way, you should already have gotten her with child."
He frowned. "I am not a monster. I will only bed her when she is willing to be bedded."
His grandfather only looked more disappointed. "And here I thought you were more like your father in that aspect, whoring little dwarf that he is."
He hardened his gaze. "It is only recent and it is one woman. You know well that he has spent these years raising me."
"The woman he is sleeping with is still a whore. This I will not abide."
"Why? Because you're sleeping with her too?" he asked. The only sign that showed his grandfather was surprised was in the slight widening of his eyes. "I may only have one eye, but that doesn't mean I can't see. I know what Shae is, as does Father and you. But you have only slept with her as a way of punishing him."
"And what if I am?"
"Then the Westerlands and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms will breathe a sigh of relief once they finally get over your death."
"Is that a threat, Tytos?"
He shook his head slightly. "No, it is a fact. Despite that your bannermen follow you, they do not like you. They find you over-proud, insensitive, far too ruthless, and much too concerned about your legacy. Uncle Jaime told me about your wish to 'establish a dynasty that lasts a thousand years.' But you're too blind to realize our chance for a thousand year dynasty has long since passed. It passed when House Lannister stopped being Kings of the Rock and became Lords of the Westerlands."
The fury coming from those eyes was almost palpable but he did not flinch from them. His Father had taught how to weather the Lion of the Rock. The silence dragged on before the Lion spoke again. "And how would do you go about it then? Be like your namesake and forgive every slight made against the house?"
He shook his head. "No, I won't. Father named me after his grandfather because he wished to have that name be remembered with strength again. Lord Tytos was too kind, I have heard. But you are too ruthless, Grandfather. I would be kind when I can and ruthless when I must."
"Foolishness," he stated.
"Smart," Tytos said back. "What has your ruthless gotten you, my lord?"
"It has brought House Lannister out of the mud my father was dragging it through and given the Seven Kingdoms twenty years of peace."
"And now, the house name is being dragged through a different kind of mud, all because you don't know how to take 'no' for an answer." He had known about the plans to marry Aunt Cersei to Prince Rhaegar and Prince Oberyn had quite the tale about him, his sister, and a trip by ship to Casterly Rock.
"Do you hate me, boy?"
"On the contrary, Grandfather, I respect you. For all you've done wrong, you've done as you've claim and brought the house back from the brink to where it can be respected once more. But respect can only go so far. Once you pass on, I will be left to clean up your mess and I will try and do so."
"Very arrogant of you to say something like before you even learned to rule."
"Aunt Genna once told me that I was as much as Tyrion's son as he was yours." His one eye narrowed. "I hope to the gods that's true."
Lord Tywin's face did not change. "Explain."
"Don't be coy, my lord," he said the two words with a spitting hatred. "We both know that you used Joffrey's death in an attempt to get rid of my father."
"He is a disgrace to the family name."
"He is my father. Tell me that you never loved your own father in spite of what he was." He received no reply. "I thought as much. It will be your last attempt to do so, yours and Aunt Cersei's."
"And do you plan on enforcing that?"
"If it happens again and I find out that it's either of you, I will kill you."
To that, the Lion of the Rock scoffed. "No man is as accused as the Kinslayer, boy. You seem to forget that."
"You seem to forget that I had no qualms in admitting to wanting to kill Joffrey. What makes you think that I wouldn't do the same to you?"
"I am your family," Lord Tywin declared.
Tytos kept his gaze level on him. "You may be my grandfather and Cersei may be my aunt, but I don't see you as family."
"Your house is your family. Your blood is your family."
"No, family is the people you choose to be your family. Tommen and Myrcella, they are my family. Uncle Kevan, Aunt Genna, and Sandor, they are my family. Joy Hill, your brother's bastard daughter, Uncle Jaime, for all his faults, is family. The man in Lannisport who taught me how to fish and who I make an effort to see when I can, Ser Benedict Broom, who first taught me how to wield a sword and who I always spar against when I can, and Podrick, my father's square, is family. You and Cersei are not my family." He stood up from his chair. "And if you are not my family and turn against me, I have no qualms about destroying you." He held his gaze against Lord Tywin as he spoke. "Good night, my lord. Please let me know when it is time to leave for the Westerlands so I, my wife, and my father can make our preparations. I will see myself out."
He turned and walked out of the room, keeping his eyes straight as he walked, closing the door behind him. Things were going well. He had been named heir to Casterly Rock and everything that came with it. He and his father managed to create a plan that was able to save his life, kill someone Tytos always wanted to kill for what he did, and stave off Dorne for a bit longer. Myrcella was safe and he was currently working on getting Tommen out of his mother's clutches by teaching him how to fight.
This would all work in the end. He wasn't his grandfather, who was blinded by what he could see. He saw the truth of the matter: House Lannister was one step away from losing the Iron Throne. The Dragon Queen was coming. He knew the truth of Cersei's children (he did wonder how no one had seen it before the war started) and wanted to make them safe. And Myrcella was safe in Dorne, betrothed to Prince Doran's youngest son.
Once word of Daenerys Targaryen's eventual march on Westeros reached him at the Rock, he would have Tommen brought there, officially to square but also to keep him out of the way. That would only leave his grandfather and (if he was lucky) aunt in King's Landing. He was counting on the fact that Cersei would want to rule when Tommen leaves, thus making her and Tywin fight for control in the capital.
Amidst that chaos, the Targaryen queen will descend. House Lannister earned King Robert's favor by murdering Princess Elia and her children. They would earn House Targaryen's appeasement by sacrificing Lord Tywin and his daughter (perhaps even his son, if Tytos cannot persuade Jaime to come with Tommen to the Rock), and ensuring that Tommen gave up his crown.
What came after Tywin's death would be him ruling the Westerlands for Daenerys Targaryen. Lord Tywin was respected and feared by the lords of the lands and they will most likely think that he will be easy pickings. He will rid them of that notion but he will not be like Lord Tywin. He was a lord who ruled by ruthlessness. He would be a one who ruled by example. That was the kind of lord Tytos Lannister, son of the Imp, would be. He would, in no way, be a second coming of Lord Tywin.
"Rejoice, Grandfather," he thought to himself as he walked down the corridor to his chambers. "When the dragons come with Fire & Blood, your life will be given to them. But the lions will not fall when you are gone. When I take your place as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, the Westerlands and Westeros will Hear Me Roar."
Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.
This was an idea that was bouncing around in my head as a part of my original Naruto/ASOIAF idea. But while I gave that up, this stayed around and kept me intrigued. So I finally figured, "What the hell?" and started writing it. It took me about half a week to do so. It's a mixture of the books and the show. Also, there's nothing about Stannis or the Wall because they aren't the concern here.
In this story, Jaime never spilled the beans on Tyrion and Tysha to his father, giving them more time to be together. When she became pregnant, Tyrion was smart enough to realize that the best place to hide her from his father was where no one would think to look for her: in the Rock itself.
She died giving birth to Tytos but Tyrion does not hate him for it like his father does. Instead, he does his best to raise his son, losing his attention to whores (but not the food or drink). Growing up, Tytos was an uncertainty. No one knew whether to call him a Lannister or a Hill. As you can probably guess, Cersei and Joffrey were on the side of Hill.
Originally, how Tytos got the tooth was because of how the lion ambushed him and they fought. Then I realized that I was talking about a lion ambushing someone. If that happens, they're dead, period. So instead, it landed on him and began going for his shoulder while he was able to get one good punch in and take out a tooth before the rest of the Lannister party drove off the lion. The singers are going to be the ones to say it was a duel. And of course he was going to get scaring. This is Westeros we're talking about here.
If you look at the two of them side by side, you can see how Tywin and his father were two extreme ends. Lord Tytos was far too kind, easy-going, and weak-willed. On the other hand, Tywin was not kind and completely and utterly ruthless. But both are not good for ruling a place. What you need is a balancing point between the two. You hit that spot, you're going to be just fine.
I personally subscribe to the theory that if anyone has declared anything remotely similar to the phrase "Establish a dynasty that lasts a thousand years," have officially fucked themselves over. If you don't believe me, go through every book you've ever read and find out if someone had said something like that. If they did, follow their story and see what happens to them. I know what happens. They and whatever they were trying to build, come crashing down hard. Look at the Lannisters if you don't believe me. Once Tywin's dead, everything that they have starts going down the drain.
I'll see you all in the next story!