Game Of Thrones : Starting as Tommen Baratheon

Oberyn narrowed his eyes, clearly probing me, "Weddings take a long time to arrange, King Tommen. What if one cannot be arranged in time? And Myrcella is too young to be wed, as is Trystane."

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I was tempted to threaten Oberyn with my knowledge of Doran's plot to wed Arianne to Viserys, or perhaps Arianne's plot to put Myrcella on the throne. Instead, cognizant of Oberyn's famed volatility, and the dagger that hung off the belt on his waist, I opted for a different approach. I wasn't looking to get stabbed, after all, and no number of guards could save me from internal bleeding or infection.

"It is not as if I am asking for some elaborate affair, merely a few words muttered before a Septon to bind my sister and your nephew together, followed by a public announcement that the ceremony has been completed as proof. As for them being too young, I call bullshit. Just because they are being wed does not mean that they have to immediately be abed. I'm younger than either Trystane or Myrcella, and I am to be wed to a girl five years my senior. A girl I neither know very well, nor particularly like."

Oberyn laughed as he sipped his wine, "Do the Tyrells know this?"

I let a little annoyance bleed into my tone, "Oh, come on, Oberyn. I am offering you the vengeance that you always wanted. Myrcella and Trystane actually like each other, so it is hardly a punishment for them. And it's not like Trystane is the heir to Dorne, not with both Quentyn and Arianne in the mix, so it's not as if you have anything to worry about there."

Of course, Quentyn was on his way to get roasted in Yunkai, potentially allowing me to secure Dorne as a future ally by having Arianne bumped off, but I didn't think that would be a productive fact to mention right now. "I know Myrcella's marriage to Trystane won't stop you from rebelling, not if you really wanted to, but it will insure she doesn't suffer a similar fate to your sister in that event. I merely want safety for my family, just as you want justice for yours. And, frankly, it is high time for our feud to come to an end, for the good of all involved."

Oberyn's eyes softened marginally, and he appeared contemplative, "The Martells did not initiate this feud."

I nodded, "Then it falls to me, as a Lannister and Baratheon both, to end it. Let us bury the hatchet between our two families, Prince Oberyn, preferably in the Mountain's ugly skull."

Oberyn let out a harsh bark of laughter, and the tension seemed to drain from his form, "That is a lovely image, King Tommen." He sipped his wine and looked at me and then nodded, "Very well. I will send a letter to my brother, and the wedding will be pushed forwards."

I stood, extending my hand for him to shake, "I'll be waiting for the announcement."

With that sorted, I left the brothel with Jaime and Balon in tow. I left the Gold Cloaks behind, enjoying their dose of rampant hedonism, though I found myself somewhat sickened to discover than many of them had opted for much, much younger girls than I thought suitable. With a twinge of guilt, I realised that I had probably overpaid. Girls, some of which looked to be as young as twelve, should not be spending their time on their knees servicing men more than twice their age, even if they were willing, or more likely, desperate.

Alas, what had been done was done, and I buried the twinge deep down. I had bigger fish to fry. I made a beeline for the Red Keep, not yet comfortable with spending a prolonged period of time in the city proper, with furtive glances given by all those on the streets, but once inside, I was content to meander for a good while. I had all day to meet Tyrion, he was hardly going to be going anywhere, and I wanted to shake off or at the very least confuse any of Varys's little birds hiding in the walls.

As my legs began to ache, Tommen's body not particularly well-adjusted to exercise, I made my way to the top cells, where Tyrion was being held. The gaoler let me inside, and I had Balon and Jaime wait outside. I could hear some grumbling on Jaime's part, likely an expression of frustration, and I elected to ignore it. Tyrion heard the gate to his cell close behind me, and he stood from his seat, turning his head to look at his latest visitor with curiosity written across his features, "Tommen?"

Tyrion, frankly, looked a bit shit. There were hints of Dinklage in there, but many features were entirely different. For one thing, his hair was a silvery white, and one of his eyes the characteristic Lannister green whilst the other was black, though neither eye appeared misshapen. The most noticeable feature was the complete absence of a nose, just a bit of bone and cartilage that left a whacking great hole in the middle of his face. It was a bit shocking, but I had seen worse, and I ploughed through, "It's King Tommen now."

He nodded and moved forwards, giving me a mock bow, "Ah, where are my manners. Welcome, Your Grace, to my humble abode. What can this servant do for you on this fine day?"

I smiled, "I should have known that your time behind bars wouldn't have blunted your wit, nor your tongue."

Tyrion looked to be appraising me, seeming to catch on with my friendly tone, and tried to build on the rapport, "I've found that being a prisoner suits me. Did I ever tell you about the Vale?"

I smirked, "I've heard bits and pieces. Something about you sullying the young Lord Arryn's ears with the tawdry tales of how you milked your eel into my mother's stew." I raised an eyebrow as if I were his disapproving mother, "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Tyrion blushed and coughed into his palm, "Ah. Well, no, not exactly. I was more referring to some tales regarding the famed sky cells and the trial by combat that ended with a fall through the moon door." He looked at me and frowned, "How did you know about that?"

I gave him a non-answer, if there ever was one, "The same way I know you're innocent."

"Varys, I presume?" When I neglected to respond with anything bigger than a smile, he brushed past the topic, "Am I to be released?"

"No. Your trial will still commence as planned."

"But you know I'm innocent! Why would you still try me as a kingslayer?"

"Just because I know you're innocent doesn't mean that anyone else does. My mother, in particular, seems possessed by some fury, and will accept nothing less than your head on a spike.

She's spent her time trying to bribe the judges who aren't grandfather, and gathering what is practically an army of witnesses, detailing those times you butted heads with Joffrey. I would free you outright, if I thought it were possible, but I'm afraid that when given the choice between following their king or following Lord Tywin, most people would choose Lord Tywin."

Tyrion seemed to deflate and become even smaller, "So, it's hopeless, then?"

"Not quite. Grandfather intends to have you shipped off the the Wall instead of executed. Whilst normally I would be inclined to agree with him and to abandon you as a lost cause, I can't just seem to let you go. I suspect it has something to do with loving thy family."

Tyrion snorted, "Yes, that old chestnut." His expression became serious again, "So, what can you do?"

"Just because the results of the trial has been rigged doesn't mean that the rules by which it will be conducted have changed. You can still call for trial by combat."

He gestured to his body, "I am hardly a warrior, nephew, and from what I can gather, there is not a man in all of Westeros willing to fight in my stead."

I nodded, "It is quite true that the attitude of the court has turned quite against you. But just because nobody is willing to fight for you doesn't mean that there isn't anyone willing to fight against the Mountain."

Tyrion's eyes narrowed as he thought it through, arriving at the only logical conclusion, "The Red Viper?" I nodded, "Risky."

"Not as much as you'd think. I've done my best to stack the deck in the Prince's favour. Even if that fails, I guarantee you this, no matter the outcome of the duel, I would have you alive, and not rotting in a cell or freezing at the Wall, but free as a bird. Likely in Braavos, or any other place in Essos where I could have you squirrelled away till your innocence could conclusively be proven."

He smiled a resigned smile, "I appreciate that, nephew."

"Of course, if that doesn't happen, and Oberyn wins his duel, then I would have you on my small council, if you would still like a place on it. My reign is in desperate need of competent, loyal, and most importantly genuinely good people as advisors, and I have it on good authority that you are all three. Given time, I think you'd even make a good Hand of the King."

"Your Grace, I... I would be honoured."

I nodded and moved on, "Naturally, there is a political cost to all this plotting. Once Tywin realises what I did by turning to the Dornish, he will be beyond furious. To keep him in line and ensure his continued cooperation, which I will need to retain stability, I'm going to have to dangle a particularly juicy carrot in front of him."

Tyrion looked suspicious, "And what would that be?"

"You know what it is."

Tyrion looked to be filled with hatefulness and spite at the very thought, "Ah, yes. The heirship."

I shook my head, "Don't act aggrieved, uncle, we both know it's only temporary. If I make uncle Jaime the heir to Casterly Rock, who do you think he will appoint to take his place when Tywin dies? Jaime openly admits that he never had much interest in governance, and you know it." I waved my hand and cut Tyrion off as he made to rebut, "The change in heir will last only as long as Tywin does. Though I wouldn't tell him that, if I were you."

Tyrion bit down his pride, "I see. Very well, then."

"And there is one other thing. Your woman, the Lady Shae, is one of the witnesses against you." Tyrion seemed stunned, "I suspect that mother has applied a mixture of coin and threats to get her to comply, and that her testimony will be particularly humiliating. If you don't want that happening, I suggest you shout and rage and scream at the end of the first day of the trial, and call for a trial by combat then and there. Mother will no doubt still want to use her to humiliate you, but I can stop that from happening if you ask at the end of the first day of testimony."

Tyrion's face cycled through a range of emotions. Rage, fear, concern, and most importantly, exhaustion. He nodded his head slowly in resignation, "I will."

I smiled and patted his shoulder, "Stay strong, uncle. It is only a matter of time. And don't worry, in due time, I will deal with mother's hatred for you as well."

His smile was more genuine this time, "I look forward to the day, Your Grace."

I stood, offered him a final farewell, and left.

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